When it comes to the suspense genre, one of the few directors who shaped it and defined it is, well, of course, Alfred Hitchcock. He may not have just shaped the suspense genre; he might have carved it in stone.
The director behind Psycho (1960), Rear Window (1954), and Vertigo (1958) believed cinema was the truest form of visual storytelling and treated it with near-religious reverence. Hitchcock was famously a traditionalist; he built his films on tightly planned scripts, meticulous storyboards, and total control over the audience’s gaze. He even resisted the 3D craze that swept Hollywood during his lifetime, convinced it was a gimmick—although succumbing to the studio pressure only once for Dial M for Murder (1954).
So, if we were to imagine a realistic evolution of Hitchcock in today’s world, there’s every chance he’d remain doggedly loyal to his methods and steer clear of flashy new tools like virtual reality or interactive storytelling.
But for the sake of this article, we’re loosening that leash. We’re imagining a hypothetical Hitchcock who softens his traditionalist stance just enough to embrace the technology, industry shifts, and audience habits shaping modern cinema.
Would he still demand the full theatrical experience? Would he rewrite his suspense techniques for the age of TikTok attention spans? And how would he respond to streaming wars, IP-driven franchises, and international co-productions?
This article aims to playfully speculate how one of cinema’s most influential filmmakers might evolve if dropped into 2025, rather than rewrite his legacy. From AI-driven thrillers to globalized horror storytelling, we’re exploring how the Master of Suspense could adapt—and whether his signature style would thrive or struggle in today’s landscape.
Hitchcock’s Style vs. Modern Filmmaking Tools
The Evolution of Suspense Techniques
Hitchcock wasn’t flashy. He didn’t need plot twists every five minutes or frantic editing to keep you on edge—just a stairway, a shadow, or a silent look across the room. His suspense was slow-cooked, rooted in anticipation and audience manipulation. But today, suspense often leans on high-concept gimmicks or jump-scare marathons. So, would Hitchcock embrace it? Or roll his eyes?
With access to CGI, deepfake tech, and AI-generated faces, Hitchcock’s imagination would probably go wild—but not in the obvious ways. He might use deepfakes not to shock, but to plant false identities, twist character arcs, or even mess with audience perception mid-film. Think of how he played with doubles and identity in Vertigo. With today’s tech, that idea becomes terrifyingly real. Instead of pure spectacle, Hitchcock would likely weaponize technology to make you doubt everything you see.
The iPhone & Guerrilla Filmmaking
Hitchcock was obsessed with control—but also with innovation. He pushed the limits of what a camera could do, from tracking shots in Notorious (1946) to the illusion of a single take in Rope (1948). So no, it’s not far-fetched to imagine him going full Steven Soderbergh and shooting a thriller on an iPhone.
Movies like Unsane (2018) and Tangerine (2015) proved that mobile cameras can capture claustrophobic chaos and real-world grit. Now, Hitchcock wasn’t exactly known for the real-world grit—being more of an icon of stylized filmmaking—but who knows, maybe he would dabble in such techniques today. Add social media to the mix, and you’ve got a suspense narrative unfolding in real time, maybe even on social platforms. I don’t see Hitchcock using TikTok only for promotion. He’d probably write a plot around it.
The Streaming Wars & Audience Fragmentation
Hitchcock on Netflix, Amazon, or A24?
Would Hitchcock play nice with streamers? Possibly. Would he love having full creative control and a massive reach? Duh! But he’d hate the autoplay countdown.
While Hitchcock loved the theatrical experience (he famously banned latecomers from screenings of Psycho), he also knew how to work with the audience’s psychology. In today’s world, he might see streaming as a new kind of suspense engine. Series like The Haunting of Hill House and Mindhunter show how slow-burn tension can thrive in long-form, bingeable formats. Hitchcock could easily make an 8-episode miniseries where every episode ends with a question mark, not a full stop.
Global Storytelling & Cultural Adaptation
If Hitchcock were working today, he wouldn’t be making films just for English-speaking audiences. He’d probably be collaborating with international studios, hopping between languages. A Psycho-like narrative in South Korea? A Rebecca-style drama set in Mexico? Totally plausible.
The success of Parasite (2019) and Squid Game (2021) showed how a story rooted in local culture can still hit global nerves. Hitchcock, who shot in the UK and the US, wasn’t shy about settings—so chances are, he’d be even more adventurous today. And with platforms like Netflix throwing money at global content, he’d have the resources to match his ambitions.
Modern Technology Reshaping Hitchcock’s Classics
AI, Algorithms, and Interactive Storytelling
Would Hitchcock go full Bandersnatch? Possibly—but not just for the novelty. He’d probably use interactive storytelling to manipulate the viewers in ways they think they control but don’t. Classic Hitchcock.
AI-generated scripts? That’s murkier. Hitchcock was a perfectionist. He famously storyboarded every frame. The idea of handing narrative beats over to a predictive language model might make him wince. But he could use AI as a tool for crafting alternate endings, testing audience responses, or generating fake news articles within the film’s world. More tool than storyteller.
VR & Immersive Horror
If Rear Window were made today, it might not even be a movie. It could be a VR experience where you become L.B. Jeffries—watching your neighbors, zooming in, missing things. The Birds (1963) could morph into a survival horror AR game where your phone alerts you every time something with wings gets too close.
What Hitchcock understood—and today’s immersive tech amplifies—is that the scariest place isn’t outside—it’s inside your own head. With VR, he’d turn passive viewers into paranoid participants, questioning what’s real and what’s scripted.
The Business of Hitchcock: IP, Franchises, and Big Budgets
Hitchcock’s Films as IP Powerhouses
In today’s IP-obsessed Hollywood, Psycho would most probably be a brand rather than a movie. Prequels, sequels, spin-offs, reboots, true crime docs, Norman Bates Funko Pops—you name it. (Bates Motel already tested the waters.)
Would Hitchcock be okay with that? Maybe, if he had final cut and merchandising rights. But he’d likely push back against studio interference. He once said, “To make a great film, you need three things – the script, the script, and the script.” That doesn’t vibe with test-screened-to-death franchise building. Still, given how savvy he was about marketing (Psycho posters literally threatened spoilers), he’d know how to game the system.
The Influence of Modern Horror Trends
Today’s horror landscape is split—on one end, you have slasher sequels and ghost-ridden franchises. On the other hand, “elevated horror” à la Hereditary (2018), Get Out (2017), and The Babadook (2014). Hitchcock would probably lean toward the latter. After all, The Birds was more about human chaos than it was about birds.
Would he work with Blumhouse? Possibly. They’re low-budget, director-friendly, and suspense-driven. That’s basically Hitchcock’s sweet spot. And if Jordan Peele or Ari Aster ever handed him a script, you bet he’d pay attention.
If Hitchcock Made a Horror Movie Today
Hitchcock never quite called himself a horror filmmaker—and fair enough. Psycho (1960) shocked people, but it wasn’t packed with blood. The Birds (1963) delivered existential dread, but there were no ghosts, demons, or ancient curses. His horror, when it showed up, was more psychological dissection than supernatural spectacle. He was less about what jumps out of the dark and more about what your brain does while you’re staring into it. Still, both films arguably laid the groundwork for entire subgenres. If he were alive today, the horror tag wouldn’t scare him off—it’d probably challenge him.
Modern horror is a wide spectrum. You’ve got slasher nostalgia (Scream franchise), arthouse trauma-core (Hereditary, The Babadook), and everything in between. If Hitchcock were playing in this space now, he’d likely skip the gore and lean hard into atmosphere, dread, and emotional tension. Think Rosemary’s Baby with more control, or Get Out without the overt political framing—but still grounded in something real and socially uncomfortable. He’d probably obsess over sound design (already one of his key tools) and shoot in tight, domestic spaces where fear festers slowly. Would he ever do a jump scare? Maybe just one—but it would wreck you.
The truth is, Hitchcock had the bones of a horror director, even if he rarely wore the label. His restraint, pacing, and psychological focus are exactly what modern horror thrives on today. Directors like Robert Eggers, Jennifer Kent, and Mike Flanagan are walking a path he quietly cleared decades ago. So if he were making a horror film now, it wouldn’t be flashy—but it would linger. The scream wouldn’t come in the moment—it would hit you hours later, when you’re alone, and something creaks in your hallway.
Reimagining Hitchcock’s Classics in the Present Day
Now, let’s have some fun reimagining Hitchcock’s iconic classics. I mean, why not?
Psycho (2025)
Written by: Sarah Phelps | Directed by: Alfred Hitchcock
Norman Bates (played by Paul Mescal) now runs a true crime-themed motel that doubles as a livestreaming Airbnb. Marion Crane (Florence Pugh), a stressed-out tech employee escaping a workplace harassment case, checks in while dodging viral attention. Meanwhile, social media sleuths begin piecing together her disappearance in real-time, unknowingly closing in on a very unstable livestream host.
Hitchcock, with so much more freedom, wouldn’t stop at playing with the murder mystery. He’d most likely weaponize the viewer’s complicity—turning the camera on us, the voyeurs. With today’s 4K surveillance, motion-sensor lighting, and Ring cams, he’d blur the lines between predator and audience. And Marion’s fate? It would probably go viral before the police even showed up.
This reimagining reminds us that fear evolves—but human behavior doesn’t change much. Hitchcock understood that. He changed with the times before—from black-and-white to color, studio films to more experimental ones. Reinvention, for him, was more like survival than just a tactic.
Vertigo (2025)
Written by: Alex Garland | Directed by: Alfred Hitchcock
Scottie (Andrew Scott), an ex-cybercrime detective suffering from dissociative episodes, is hired to tail a woman named Madeleine (Anya Taylor-Joy), who may—or may not—exist. Instead of physical surveillance, it’s all digital: scraping metadata, facial recognition, and deepfake videos. As obsession grows, so does the blurring of truth and simulation. When Madeleine “dies,” Scottie recreates her using AI and stolen social media data—until reality starts to crack.
Hitchcock would thrive here. The theme of identity manipulation, already central to the original, gets supercharged by today’s tools. He’d frame screens like he once framed staircases. The spirals would still be there—just now in code, in the digital footprints we leave behind.
The real lesson? Obsession is timeless. But the way we feed it changes. Hitchcock had no fear of adapting, even when critics didn’t get him right away. Vertigo was once panned. Now it’s revered. That arc alone proves that good storytelling always finds its way back into the spotlight—sometimes decades later.
Would Hitchcock Thrive or Resist Today’s Cinema?
Would Hitchcock thrive today? Yes—but not by following trends. He’d bend them. Twist them. Probably break a few. The tools have changed, the audience has changed, but the desire to be thrilled, deceived, and haunted? That part’s eternal.
Maybe he’d shoot on an iPhone. Maybe he’d stream his films on Netflix with a viral TikTok promo campaign. Or maybe, he’d still be the guy who made you sit quietly in a dark theater, heart racing, trying not to blink.
Now your turn: If one Hitchcock film had to be remade with today’s tech and talent—which one should it be, and who should direct it? Hit the comments and start directing your own suspense.
