P.’s book, his follow-up to Classical Myth in Four Films of Alfred Hitchcock (2016), continues the exploration of Hitchcock's work and legacy through the lens of classical studies. Classical art, myth and philosophy become hermeneutic tools with which he reviews Hitchcock's films both in terms of their authorial intent but also their narrative and aesthetic composition. This is an interdisciplinary project, a classical reading of post-classical texts, that aims to marry film study with classical reception in an attempt to offer what seems to P. to be the most convincing interpretation of these films.

P. is committed to making this book accessible to all audiences independently of their discipline of origin. Hence he spends a lot of time introducing concepts, myths, traditions, historical events, plots, production practices and film techniques. The avoidance of excessive jargon helps him deliver a monograph that can be read by both classical and film scholars alike – let alone Hitchcock enthusiasts. Although either side might be tempted to skip parts they feel more comfortable with, or the ones that alienate them, P. weaves his interpretation throughout these discussions by carefully going back and forth between texts to present a plausible and, ultimately, fascinating reading that is aided by his extensive knowledge of both sides of the project. As a result his book merits attention not just as a curiosity but as a serious attempt at film analysis.

A rather striking aspect of P.’s work is his persistent effort to convince the reader that Hitchcock was aware, knowledgeable and indeed influenced by classical culture. He wants his interpretation to be justified by authorial intent, be that Hitchcock's or his closest collaborators. His conviction that his reading is not arbitrary or idle speculation leads him to review the upbringing, educational background and biographies of Hitchcock and his collaborators emphasising at every turn how they might have been (or actually were) aware of classical culture. Even when he cannot find hard evidence to corroborate his perspective, circumstantial will do; a strategy that leads him to a number of inferences that for him confirm intentionality. These may puzzle the reader, as he goes into detail about the education of screenwriters or whether Hitchcock noticed the large neoclassical structure he passed by going from his home to work, leading one to wonder if there is any need for this kind of detective work. For P., however, this effort is essential, as he wishes to maintain that classical culture is at the very least the inspiration behind these films, and consequently his interpretation serves them best.

In many ways his interpretations are interesting of their own accord without this type of justification, and it is because of these interpretations that P.’s book stands out. It could be argued that an interpretation of a work of art such as a film should be value maximising. That is, it should add value to the work's reception allowing the audience to see it in a new light and gain insight into character, narrative, design or even historical context. P.’s work certainly manages to achieve that and more. Independently of whether Hitchcock or his collaborators were knowledgeable of what he references, which might well be the case, his readings of these films elevate their worth as cultural texts with substance.

P. smartly divides the book into two parts, two triptychs as he calls them, one dedicated to three ‘wrong-man’ films (The 39 Steps [1935], Saboteur [1942], North by Northwest [1959]) and one to what he describes as the ‘erotic woman’ films, all starring Grace Kelly (Dial M for Murder [1954], Rear Window [1954], To Catch a Thief [1955]). Each chapter deals with one of the films, offering in-depth accounts of the classical cues and motifs he sees in the films. His interpretations are detailed and thorough, paying close attention to the narrative and visual elements of the film, their place in history in general and film history specifically. Even though these are films endlessly analysed by film scholars, P. brings a fresh perspective that is well informed by the existing scholarship, but also manages to embrace this without losing his own original viewpoint. For instance, in his reading of North by Northwest P. draws a parallel with the myth of Oedipus in its various iterations. The myths, historical details and alternative readings offer a plethora of archetypes and incidents to see in relation to the film. As such, the actions, adventures and character development are seen in a different context and become richer as a result. His reading is stronger when he draws parallels between the protagonist and Sophocles’ Oedipus, and weaker when he turns to details, such as that the protagonist is called Roger O. Thornhill – and where the O. is perhaps a nod to the character of Oedipus. However, he also finds space to draw connections between the wrong-men of the different films he has chosen to interpret in the book. Concepts such as the archetype of pharmakos that he introduces in his reading of The 39 Steps serve his explorations well as he successfully connects the ambiguity that the concept entails with the myth of Oedipus and Odysseus but also the protagonists of these films.

Possibly the most interesting reading in the book is that of Rear Window, which he discusses in relation to The Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite, but also the ‘Dog Days’ of summer, marked by the star Sirius (the dog star), which in Ancient Greece were conceived as a powerful event with immediate and biological consequences on the people. He looks closely at the surrounding myths and rituals and proposes to trace these in the film. Two parallels stand out here; first, his explanation of the murdering of the dog in the film as a nod to the dog sacrifices in ancient Greece during these days. Second, his linking of the pseudo-scientific explanation that during these ‘Dog Days’ men suffer a lack of libido, whereas female sexual drive is enflamed. This matches very well the narrative arc of the story, where the ‘too perfect’ Lisa (Grace Kelly) attempts to seduce a disinterested and immobile Jeff (James Stewart). Their peculiar sexual chemistry, and especially his lack of response, has attracted much analysis in terms of impotence, homosexuality and voyeuristic preferences, but P. manages a unique interpretation of this ambiguous, yet crucial, narrative moment. P.’s analysis is stellar here, as he picks up all the relevant narrative and visual moments in the film, rendering his reading plausible as he successfully explains Jeff's response to the heat and evident lack of energy and Lisa's vitality and lack of concern over the rising temperature. In his exploration of all these, he also manages to connect the character of Lars Thorwald (Raymond Burr), the murderer of the story, to Jeff. In several scholarly accounts Thorwald is explained as a ‘darker-double’ of Jeff, a stand-in character that allows Jeff to play out his most violent fantasies concerning his relationship to Lisa. P. recognises this parallel and notes their shared aversion to beds and the women in their lives, but also explains how it was thought that during these ‘Dog Days’ the person affected by Sirius, as Lars and Jeff seem to be, would become diseased, rabid, displaying frenzied madness. Jeff's voyeuristic tendencies, then, become a kind of disease as he becomes fascinated by neighbours and dismembered corpses alike. In this sense P. benefits from alternative readings of the film, but his eye remains always on his perspective, thus making his interpretation original, insightful and very interesting to read.