A strong candidate for Hitchcock's worst film. It's basically a one note "comedy" about various people in a small Vermont town dealing with the recently deceased Harry. Stagey, at times amateurishly inept. John Forsythe tries to pull off Cary Grant-like charm and fails. And why would you discover a dead body in the woods (as Edmund Gwen does) think you were responsible, and then take a nap by a nearby tree.