First, some background
to the film . . . Although Hitchcock began his
film career at the British arm of Paramount, a
major American studio, his first two credits
as a director were Anglo-German co-productions
filmed in Munich at the studio of the largest
German production company, UFA. Many of the
masterpieces of early German cinema were UFA
films, and many were produced by the man who
supervised Hitchcock’s co-productions, Erich
Pommer. Some key German directors--including
F.W. Murnau, at work on The Last Laugh
on an adjacent sound stage--were making their
own films at the same time or present on the
lot during Hitchcock’s stay in Germany.
Hitchcock was also exposed to German cinema,
including The
Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, through the
Film Society in London.
He made The Lodger
shortly after his return to England, so it’s
worth considering whether or not Hitchcock’s
experience in Germany and his exposure to
German cinema is evident in that film (and
possibly in his later work, too). Think about
the clip (a murder scene) from Caligari
shown in class, or take a look at the images
in the class notes on the website. What
similarities do you notice when comparing the
two films? Which elements of visual style do
the two films have in common? Think in
particular about the way the films focus on
the anguished, tormented, or frightened
expressions of the characters. How do the
films convey those emotions? Try to describe
the acting style, the makeup, the costumes,
and the overall appearance of these
characters. How are they different from the
more realistic style we’re more accustomed to
from classical Hollywood cinema? Think also
about the world these characters inhabit. How is that world
different from the environment of a classical
film? Does the
anguish and fear seem to seep into the world
represented in the films (for example, the
buildings, streets, the light, etc.)?
Which elements of The Lodger seem more closely
related to more standard Hollywood films?
The main star of the
film, Ivor Novello, was a major singing star
and matinee idol at the time. Describe the way
the film presents him to us. For much of the
film, he’s supposed to be a killer, or at
least a suspect. Does he appear threatening?
When does he look like a possible serial
killer, and at what points in the film does
that persona break down? Think in particular
about his close-ups. Does he look like the
“Avenger” in those moments?
The Lodger
is based loosely on the story of Jack the
Ripper, but there are some clear differences
between the two. Where does this film depart
from the source material? Why do you think
Hitchcock and his producers chose not to make
a faithful adaptation of that story?
Blackmail began production as a silent
film but transitioned into a “talkie”
midstream and eventually became famous as
Britain’s first sound film. Can you see
evidence of that history in the film itself?
Does the film look like a transitional
picture, with some elements of a silent film
and some elements of a talkie? Which
particular scenes or types of shot seem to
fall into one category or the other? What are
the key stylistic differences between the two?
Early sound films were
usually concerned with mundane technical
matters like how to capture clear,
intelligible dialogue. Were there any scenes
in the film that seemed to move beyond these
technical considerations and use sound in a
more expressive way?
One of the common
criticisms of sound films in the late 1920s
was that they were less visually inventive and
experimental than silent films, mainly because
there were so many restrictions placed on the
actors and camera by bulky and finicky new
sound technology. Does that criticism apply to
Blackmail?
Compare it with The
Lodger? Are the images, camera
movements, and staging less complex in the
sound film than in a “pure” film like The
Lodger?
Imdb
entry on The
39 Steps The 39 Steps
begins in a theatrical space with a
performance by Mr. Memory, and you’ll notice a
fascination with theater, stages, and
role-playing in a number of Hitchcock’s films.
Think about other scenes in the film that take
place in a theater or in an environment
analogous to a stage. When do characters in
the film walk into the limelight and
impersonate someone else? When do we see them
making a transition from their everyday selves
to a theatrical role and back again? What are
the rewards and punishments for deception? For
being straightforward and perhaps naïve?
What other spaces are
characteristic of the world represented in The 39 Steps?
Besides the stage, what environments does the
film return to repeatedly? Think about the
exterior shots of city streets and the
repeated images of the Scottish landscape, and
describe the atmosphere created in those
establishing shots. Is the world of The 39 Steps
an active, bustling, and urban? Is it empty,
isolated, lonely? Which adjectives would you
use? How is that atmosphere related to the
overarching story of an innocent man wrongly
accused, a man trying to save his life by
demonstrating his innocence, and a man trying
to unravel a complicated spy plot hatched by
men he knows almost nothing about?
Is Hannay the kind of
hero you’re accustomed to seeing in a
thriller? Which parts of his character are
typical? Which set him apart from other action
heroes?
If you’ve seen other
Hitchcock films in the past, think about the
formal elements (the framing, the use of
darkness and light, the editing, etc.) that
this film has in common with those other
movies. Think also about the narrative
elements that this early film begins to
develop. (I’ve alluded to the “wrong man” plot
above, but which other aspects of the film
seem typically Hitchcockian?) If you’re less
familiar with Hitchcock’s films, think about
how The 39
Steps fits within other genres that
you do know well. What elements of the spy
thriller are used or discarded in this
particular variation on that genre? What other
genres are alluded to? (Think about the
relationship with Pamela and the moment when
she blows Hannay’s cover at the political
rally. What genre does their dialogue most
closely resemble?)
The 39 Steps
is still a relatively early sound film (the
first British sound film was released only six
years before). Were there any remarkable or
experimental uses of sound in the film? How
would you characterize the relationship
between sound and image in the film? Were
there any moments when the film seems to
relegate sound to a secondary role and tell
the story exclusively through images? Or vice
versa?
The
Lady Vanishes (1938)
Imdb
entry on The
Lady Vanishes Like The 39 Steps,
The Lady
Vanishes adopts the conventions of a
number of different genres. Which genres do
Hitchcock and the screenwriters use as they
construct the plot and flesh out the
characters? Think in particular about the
first 25 minutes of the film (the scenes
before the train departs). Which genres are
alluded to in that section? Does that part of
the film belong to the same genre as the rest?
What similarities does it have in common with
the scenes on the train? What differences
distinguish the first act and the second?
What are the
characteristics of the fictional country of
Bandrika, where the film takes place? In what
ways does it resemble real geographical and
political entities at the time the film was
made (basically the beginning of WWII)? How
are the people of various national and ethnic
groups represented? The British? The
Americans? The Italians? The Bandrikans? What
attitudes are considered dangerous and ignoble
in the world of the film? What can a filmmaker
do when representing an invented country that
would be impossible if the country actually
existed? What can a filmmaker do in a comedic
representation of the world that would be
impossible if the film claimed to be about
reality?
If The Lady
Vanishes is in part a thriller, who
are the heroes of the film? How are the people
who pursue justice in this film different from
more standard heroic figures we’re used to
from other political thrillers? Do they have
anything in common with their counterparts in
The 39 Steps?
Hitchcock would
operate with much higher budgets when he moved
to Hollywood shortly after making The Lady
Vanishes, and especially in the later
years of his career. Were there any moments
that this seemed like a low budget production?
What strategies do the filmmakers use to
compensate for their relative lack of
resources?
What role does music
play in the film? Although it’s sometimes
difficult to decide where the music is coming
from, The
Lady Vanishes uses only diegetic
music (i.e., coming from and audible to
characters in the world of the film rather
than a soundtrack intended for the audience
alone). Why would music be such an important
part of film that draws upon these particular
genres and alludes to the political events of
this historical moment?
Rebecca (1940)
Imdb
entry on Rebecca One of the great
mysteries at the center of Rebecca
is the title character, whose memory is
omnipresent in the film, though Rebecca
herself remains completely absent and unseen.
In what ways does the film establish her
presence? How do we learn about her character?
How would you describe the Rebecca who
dominates the first 2/3 of the film? When
Maxim says that he hated Rebecca, he offers an
entirely different perspective on her
character. How would you describe the
individual who emerges through the accounts of
Maxim, Favell, and the doctor? Which views of
Rebecca are missing in the film? Would any of
the other characters construct a different
portrait of this central figure than the one
we glimpse throughout the film? How much of
Rebecca is the product of the narrator’s
(“I’s”) perspective?
What is the
relationship between the first and second Mrs.
de Winters? In which particular scenes do we
see their conflict dramatized? How is that
struggle visible in the mise-en-scene
(costumes, set design, lighting, props, and
figure movement—everything that film has in
common with theater and that the filmmakers
place before the camera)? Does the second Mrs.
de Winter attempt to inhabit the role that her
predecessor once played? What is that role?
Does she succeed or fail? What happens when
Maxim reveals more information about his
unhappy marriage with Rebecca? How does this
revelation change the second Mrs. de Winter?
As she looks back, what is the relationship
between the narrator who recites the famous
opening line—“Last night I dreamt I went to
Manderley again”—and her brief interlude at
Manderley?
Does this film—an
adaptation of a Daphne du Maurier novel with
at least two major female leads (three if you
count Rebecca)—represent the psychology and
subjectivity of its female characters with
more subtlety than other classical Hollywood
films? Does it represent or at least allude to
issues that are usually left untouched in
mainstream films? Which issues? Or is it more
of the same?
Aside from the
lingering, ghostly memory of Rebecca,
Manderley is one of the most prominent
features of the film. What was your initial
reaction to the setting, especially the
interiors? What genres does the set evoke?
What kind of expectations do you have about
the film after your introduction to those
surroundings (or before that, to the hotel in
Monte Carlo)?
Imdb
entry
on Shadow
of a Doubt The film opens with a short
sequence on the East Coast before
moving to Santa Rosa, a small town in
northern California. What qualities
does the film attribute to each of
those spaces? What do we learn about
the environment, the society, and the
people in each location? What kinds of
continuities and contrasts do you see
between the East and the West Coasts
or between big-city and small-town
America? If Santa Rosa is in some ways
an idealized little community, are
there any locations in town that don’t
seem quite so pure or innocent?
When the detectives come to the
Newton’s house they present themselves
at pollsters interested in capturing
the life of a typical American family.
What qualities do they see as typical,
and what strategies do they use to
represent the everyday life of a
“normal” family in a small town? How
does Emma Newton want her family to
appear? How does Uncle Charlie
characterize the work of these
pollsters? Young Charlie later
suggests that Uncle Charlie wouldn’t
be an interesting subject for this
study because he isn’t “typical.” How
is Uncle Charlie similar to or
different from the typical and normal
American family? Or, if it’s
impossible to say what’s truly normal
or typical, what is his relationship
to the mythical vision of the small
town and the nuclear family that we
see elsewhere in the film?
Think about the many ways that
the two Charlies are doubled in the
film. In what sense are they “twins”
(as they both claim to be)? What
qualities do you associate with each
of these characters? Does Uncle
Charlie possess any of the
characteristics you associate with his
niece? And vice versa? Are there any
specific scenes when Charlotte becomes
more like her uncle? And vice versa?
Uncle Charlie has some
choice words to say about both society
as a whole and women in particular.
How does he characterize women (or
specific categories of women)? Does
the film as a whole share or endorse
those attitudes? Does it estrange or
distance itself from the positions of
Uncle Charlie? How would you describe
the femininity that Emma (the mother)
and Charlie (the daughter) represent?
What do you make of the fact that the
female Charlie is given a typically
masculine nickname?
At the end of the film we hear a
eulogy for Uncle Charlie that appears
ignorant of the crimes he committed,
and little Charlie and the detective
stand outside and talk about her
uncle’s dark vision of the world. The
detective then suggests that the world
needs to be watched vigilantly because
every once in a while it goes crazy
“like Uncle Charlie.” Given the timing
of the film—it was the middle of WWII
and the Axis power still occupied most
of Europe and East Asia—how is the
character and personality of Uncle
Charlie related to this global
conflict? Is this an exaggeration of
the significance of his character and
the film itself, an attempt to give Shadow
of a Doubt the appearance of
political and social relevance? Or
does understanding this particular
character and his web of relationships
help us understand broader
geopolitical issues at this moment in
history? If so, look back on the film
through this historical lens. How do
you see Uncle Charlie, Charlotte, the
Newtons, the police, the big city and
the small town, and the East and West
Coasts within this more political
framework?
Think about the title
of the film. Most of the other Hitchcock
titles we’ve encountered have been more
concrete: The
Lodger refers to the main character
in the film; The 39 Steps alludes to a
spy ring; The
Lady Vanishes is a complete sentence
that summarizes the plot; and Rebecca
is another title character. The notoriety
alluded to in the title of this film is far
more abstract and ambiguous. Who is
“notorious” in the context of this film? Why?
In whose eyes is that person notorious? How is
that notoriety established early in the film?
How does the plot show that person attempting
to redeem his/her reputation from that
condition of notoriety?
At the suggestion of
the Hays Office, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover
and David O. Selznick exchanged letters in
order to ensure that the government agents in
the film upheld high moral and professional
standards. Is Devlin an idealized portrait of
an American spy? Or are there moments when
that façade cracks and we see a less
high-minded, more flawed character? When? In a
film where reputation is everything and the
eyes of others can be judgmental and even
dangerous, how does Devlin view Alicia? Does
Devlin see Alicia as a notorious figure? Which
aspects of her history and personality does he
condemn? Which does he defend?
The film is structured
around two sets of family relationships:
Alicia’s with her father and Sebastian’s with
his mother. How would you describe those
relationships? Does anyone seem excessively
controlled by another member of his/her
family? How do people rebel against that
control?
Released
in 1946, Notorious
already begins to update the spy thriller for
a new, Cold War era. Do you notice any changes
in the thriller formula as it adapts to these
new historical circumstances? How important
are the locations in the film? Were Miami and
Brazil crucial elements of the plot? Were they
represented convincingly? Do those locations
enhance the connections between the film and
real political events? Or do they make the
film seem more like a stereotypical Hollywood
picture divorced from the real world?
Rope is
probably best known for its formal conceit: from
just after the murder, the film appears to
consist of a single shot, without any editing
whatsoever. Because the length of each shot was
limited to the length of a reel of film (under
ten minutes), the film actually contains several
shots edited together, each roughly the length
of a reel. (If you look closely for moments when
the entire frame goes black as it’s filled by
the back of a jacket or a chair or the trunk
lid, you can see where Hitchcock and the editors
have spliced the reels together.) In your
experience of the film, what were the advantages
and limitations of this strategy? What is
possible in a film that appears to be one long
take or sequence shot? We usually think of
editing as a force of energy in a film, with the
pace of editing increasing as the action heats
up. Editing is also a way to include more
information, more points of view, more
locations, etc., in a single film. Was Rope
lacking that kind of energy, scope, and economy?
Why or why not?
Think about Rope
in relation to the much more classical form of Notorious.
Did Rope
seem to violate any of the rules of film
“grammar” that you’ve come to expect from
Hollywood cinema? Is Rope a formal experiment pure
and simple? Could you tell almost any story this
way, in a single shot? Could you film Notorious
in this way? Or is there something about Rope’s
subject matter that lends itself to this kind of
treatment? Rope
was adapted from a successful play by Patrick
Hamilton, who himself adapted for the stage a
real life incident in which two University of
Chicago students, Leopold and Loeb, attempted to
commit the “perfect crime” and murdered a
teenager in order to demonstrate their
intellectual and moral superiority to the
masses. Throughout the film, and especially
during the cocktail party discussion, Brandon
and Philip espouse a philosophy similar to that
of Leopold and Loeb. Is there any relationship
between these philosophical and moral arguments
and the structure of the film? Does confining
the film to a small space and limiting it to
what seems like a single shot help underscore
the limits of their ideas? Why or why not?
What do we know about the Jimmy Stewart
character? Are you convinced by his
transformation from the teacher who introduced
this superman theory to Brandon and Philip into
the man who uncovers and reports their crime? Is
he similar to the typical Hitchcock citizen hero
that we’re now familiar with?
During the production of the film, people
involved in the project discussed the film’s
homosexual overtones as “it.” Nobody wanted to
identify “it” by name, but everyone acknowledged
that the film alludes to a homosexual
relationship between Brandon and Philip. The
Robin Wood reading discusses this aspect of the
film in detail. From your viewing, did it appear
that there was any link between the
homosexuality of the main characters and their
criminality? Would this then be an example of
Hitchcock’s “murderous gays”? Or is that
dimension of the characters too subtle and
unpronounced for us to make that connection
between sexuality and violent, criminal conduct?
The play suggests that the teacher was also
involved in an intimate relationship with his
pupils. Was that aspect of Jimmy Stewart’s
character present in the film? Would that deepen
or diminish your understanding of his character
and his status as the person who educated
Brandon and Philip in their theory of the
superman?
Strangers
on a Train (1951)
Imdb
entry on Strangers
on a Train
The film begins with a virtuoso
sequence that introduces the two main
characters through a series of close-ups and
following shots focused on their shoes. If, as
haberdashers say, the clothes make the man,
what do we learn about these two characters in
the opening two minutes of the film, before we
see anything but their wardrobes? What do
those shoes signify about the personalities of
the people who wear them?
Much of the film takes
place in Washington D.C., though there are
also several excursions to the Northeast,
including a small town with a main street and
a fairground. (The train trips take place
primarily on the main railway corridor running
north-south on the east coast.) What functions
do the repeated shots of famous Washington
landmarks serve in the film? Why does the film
locate this bizarre tale of crossed paths and
elaborate murder plots in the nation’s
capital? Why does the murder take place on
lover’s lane in this all-American town? Is
Bruno an insider or a marginal figure in the
environments shown in the film? What about
Guy? Is criminality in the film a sign that
the perpetrator is outside the social order?
Or is criminality a product of these
quintessential American locations?
Strangers on a
Train is another Hitchcock film
revolving around a sinister “family plot.” How
would you describe Bruno’s relationship with
his mother and father? Is this family a
slightly more exaggerated version of the ones
we’ve seen in Rebecca and Notorious? Or are
these characters excessive, over-the-top,
cartoonish parodies of the families we’ve seen
in other Hitchcock films? Or does this
approach to characterization help highlight
important dimensions of the film? What about
Guy’s marriage and the new family he hopes to
join? Is this a “normal” family seen in
contrast to Bruno’s? Or does that family have
its own secrets?
Robin Wood also
mentions Strangers
on a Train in his discussion of
Hitchcock’s homophobia, and once again we have
a film where the homosexuality of the murderer
is never discussed openly but remains just
beneath the surface. (And once again, this
aspect of the plot is more obvious in the
source material than the film. In the Patricia
Highsmith novel, Guy responds to Bruno’s
initial advances by saying, “Try picking up
somebody else.” The British release of the
film includes more explicitly flirtatious
dialogue that was considered too direct for an
American audience.) Think back to the question
on the homosexual overtones of Rope. Is
Strangers
a case where sexuality and criminality (and
mental illness) are linked in troubling ways?
Is this an instance of Hitchcock’s homophobia?
If it’s not, how should we understand this
aspect of Bruno’s character?
In
what ways does the experience of Jefferies as he
watches events unfold across the courtyard
parallel that of a spectator watching a film? Be
as specific as possible, and think about each
aspect of the process of watching a film: think
about the physical condition of Jefferies and/or
Lisa, about their state of mind (as they betray
their fascination with what happens in the
windows across the way and their desire to know
more), and about the object of their attention
contained in those rectangular windows. Which of
these elements is most closely analogous to some
aspect of watching a film? Why?
Think about the physical environment established
in the film. How would you describe the space
where Rear
Window takes place? Can you see any
similarities or differences between the space
constructed in this film (i.e., its size and
scope, its boundaries, its possibilities for
confinement or movement and escape) and others
we’ve seen so far this quarter?
What point of view is established by Hitchcock’s
camera? Is that POV always consistent, or does
the film depart from that POV at certain
moments? Also consider the many glances and
gazes shown to us and exchanged by characters
throughout the film. Who looks at whom, who is
seen by whom, who watches without being seen in
return? What technological devices aid or impede
vision in the course of the film? How are those
devices related to the film camera?
How does the relationship between Jefferies and
Lisa (discussing issues of marriage, commitment,
gender roles, etc.) relate to the drama
unfolding across the courtyard? Which
relationships are most analogous to those of
Jefferies and Lisa? Miss Torso? Miss
Lonelyheart? The Thorwalds? How does the dynamic
of the film and their relationship change when
Lisa moves over to the other side of the
courtyard and participates in the drama that she
and Jefferies had been content only to watch?
Although we’re watching a
“flat” version of the film, Dial M.
for Murder was originally shot
and released in 3-D, during a brief craze for
that technology in the early and
mid-1950s. Can you identify any traces of the
film’s 3-D origins in the version
we saw? Which shots look as though they were
staged for 3-D?
Like Rope,
Dial M.
was adapted from a stage play.
Does the space depicted in the film have
anything in common with Rope?
An adaptation of a play would probably
not be the most obvious choice for a film
using one of the most advanced film
technologies of the time. Which elements of
the drama seem best or worst suited
to 3-D? If you were making a 3-D film based on
a stage drama with a limited
number of sets, how would you transform that
material and environment into
something truly three-dimensional?
We’ve looked at
Hitchcock’s distinction between surprise and
suspense before, and we’ve tried to
distinguish between a suspense film (key
information is supplied to the audience) and
the more common mystery genre
(essential information is usually withheld).
Where does Dial M. fit within that
framework? It shows us the confrontation
between a criminal and investigators looking
into the crime, but is it
different in significant ways from, say, an
Agatha Christie or Sherlock Holmes
mystery? Why?
All quarter we’ve been
trying to trace connections among the
various films we’ve seen, and we’ve focused in
particular on the ways Hitchcock
portrays his villains and his usually female
victims. In Dial M. do you see any
significant variations from the patterns we’ve
noticed so far?
Imdb entry on Vertigo What is vertigo? What
is the precise cause of Ferguson’s vertigo in
the film? How is this sensation represented
visually on screen? What other conditions and
states of mind do the filmmakers relate
metaphorically to vertigo? If vertigo is
characterized by a feeling of dizziness and
disorientation, an uncontrollable falling
sensation, what other psychological states do
the characters in Vertigo find themselves
falling into?
One aspect of the film
that has received enormous critical attention
is the way that Ferguson remakes one woman in
the image of another by changing her clothes,
her hair, her makeup, etc. Critics have
related this process to the production of
Hollywood cinema, as directors send actresses
to makeup and costume designers and transform
them into “ideal” women, whose image is then
projected for everyone to see and emulate. In
what ways is this transformation of Judy
similar to the making of a Hollywood icon?
What are the differences? Do the women in the
film have any control and power over their own
image? Or does an active male viewer/director
control the production of that image? If the
first 2/3 of the film (including the character
of the “original” Madeleine) was an elaborate
performance designed to trick Ferguson, does
that affect your interpretation of the gender
dynamics in the film?
In Rebecca
the second Mrs. De Winter modeled her
appearance on magazine visions of femininity,
on a portrait hanging on the wall in
Manderley, and on Rebecca herself. In Vertigo
another female character sits in front of a
portrait that she tries to imitate and embody,
and we later see Judy slowly changing into
Madeleine. Is the process of modeling and
emulation the same in both films? Why or why
not?
Near the halfway point
in the film, the James Stewart character and
“Madeleine” enter a grove of giant sequoias
and see a cross-section of an ancient tree
with markers of important events from
centuries of human history. Think first about
the way this sequence is shot (especially the
lighting). What is the significance of this
interlude in the drama? What do the tree rings
signify? Why does the film take such great
pains to show us the distant and recent past
brought together and displayed feet apart on a
single plane?
Vertigo
presents a stunning vision of San Francisco,
and from the time of its release to the
present day, people have taken the Vertigo
tour of San Francisco and visited the
landmarks, famous and otherwise, glimpsed in
the film. Could this story have been set
anywhere or anywhere else? Or does Hitchcock
(a part-time resident of Santa Cruz, about 90
minutes south of San Francisco) incorporate
the surroundings into the film in ways that
make it impossible to imagine a New York or
Seattle Vertigo?
How does the SF or California setting affect
the meaning conveyed by the film?
In a
1965 essay on Vertigo, Robin Wood writes
that the James Stewart character is left
hanging from a gutter at the beginning of the
film without any means of escape. “There seems
no possible way he could have got down,”
writes Wood. “The effect is of having him,
throughout the film, metaphorically suspended
over a great abyss.” How did he manage to
climb up or down from that dangerous position?
Is there any explanation? If not, does that
lack of an explanation alter your
understanding or interpretation of the film?
What is the main
reason that Roger Thornhill and the narrative
leave New York and head west? What is the core
of this mystery or confusion? How does the
rest of the film resolve the questions
introduced at the beginning? Does the story
arrive at a satisfactory resolution to the
issues raised at the beginning (e.g., who is
Kaplan?)? Does it matter? Do Thornhill’s goal
and target change at any point in the film?
What genre is this
film? If it’s a spy thriller (as the DVD box
suggests), which conventions of the genre does
it emphasize? Which does it leave out? Which
other genres does it combine with the spy
story?
Does the
film have any relationship to its Cold War
context? Think of the locations visited in the
film, and remember that other Hitchcock films,
most notably Strangers on a Train, also
parade past well-known American landmarks. Why
these particular places? Do we learn anything
about the settings as the film progresses, and
do the locations enhance our understanding of
the film? Or is the itinerary just a pretext
for a juicy plot?
For much
of the quarter, we have looked at the
strategies that films use to visualize
narrative, to tell the story through pictures
as well as words. (A good example of this
would be films based on comic books, where the
conflict between good and evil is played out
both in the story and in the way their lairs,
their costumes, their vehicles, and every
other element of the film emphasize that
contrast on screen.) How are the images we see
in North by
Northwest related to the main
concerns of the story? Think of some of the
key narrative moments (e.g., the crop duster
sequence). How does the composition of the
shots and editing pattern in that sequence
make visible some of the major interests of
the narrative? If one of the main purposes of
the film is to keep everyone moving west, how
does the film reflect that movement, that
dynamism in the image?
Did you
notice any narrative or stylistic continuities
between these television episodes and the
films we’ve seen so far? What do you see as
the possibilities and limitations of the
shorter form of a half-hour television
program? Do you see Hitchcock taking advantage
of the format or stumbling in this more
constrained environment?
Television critics have often emphasized that
the structure of television is very different
from cinema. Instead of a film with a very
clear beginning (lights off, previews,
credits) and end (“The End,” credits, lights
up) television provides a “flow” of images and
sounds, with one show leading into the next
and a parallel flow available by changing the
channel. Also unlike movies, commercials
interrupt each program, dividing the flow into
short segments of several minutes each. The
result is a much more divided, disrupted, and
distracted experience. How does Hitchcock
manage the flow and segmentation of
television?
What is your impression of the Hitchcock
persona who introduces and concludes each of
the episodes? How would you describe his
appearance and tone of voice? Is he actually
introducing and summing up the episode you’ve
just seen? What function does his introduction
and conclusion serve?
Psycho
(1960)
Imdb
entry for Psycho The credit sequence
for Psycho
was designed by Saul Bass, who also designed
the credits for Vertigo and North by
Northwest. How do these darting lines
and broken letters introduce us to the major
thematic and narrative elements in the film?
The lines then dissolve into a cityscape, with
the place and date identified by titles
superimposed over the city. Why begin this
particular story with images of what look like
relatively banal, nondescript, harmless
buildings?
For an unusually long
period in the first third of the film, Marion
Crane drives her car along a highway, and the
camera concentrates primarily on her face as
the landscape and opposing headlights rush by.
In most films, shots like these serve as
filler to demonstrate how a character traveled
from one location to another. If they last
longer than a few seconds, these sequences
usually involve some form of dialogue between
characters in the car (as at the beginning of
Notorious).
But these shots last a long time and Marion is
the sole occupant of the car. What information
is conveyed during these sequences? What do we
learn about Marion during these peculiar
shots? Think in particular about the
soundtrack. How does this interior monologue
help link her to (or distinguish her from)
other characters in the film? What do they
have (or not have) in common?
Think about the
sequence when the police officer approaches
Marion’s car after she parks along the highway
to rest. Is there anything remarkable about
the way the highway patrolman is presented to
us? Is this image of a man gazing at Marion
echoed elsewhere in the film?
How is the office at
the Bates Motel decorated? Beyond its obvious
importance to the narrative, what is the
significance of Norman’s fascination with
taxidermy and birds? What other habits or
nervous ticks did you notice in the character
of Norman Bates? What is their significance?
How would you describe
the first interaction between Norman and
Marion? On one level she seems to pity Norman
because of his isolation and his domineering
“mother.” But this conversation also convinces
her to return the money and attempt to right
any past wrongs. What about this conversation
with Norman has such an impact on Marion? What
is the source of their sympathy and
understanding? Are we given any indication
that these otherwise very different characters
might have some things in common?
If you’ve just seen
the famous shower sequence for the first time,
how would you describe it? Was it shocking?
Why or why not? How would you describe the
editing in that scene? And the music? How do
the editing and music contribute to the sense
of terror and disorientation in that sequence?
Norman Bates is one of
the most unforgettable characters in the
history of cinema, and the career of Anthony
Perkins was largely defined by this role. At
the time when Psycho was produced,
however, he was considered a handsome
heartthrob and best known for playing
wholesome young men in mainstream pictures.
Janet Leigh was also an important Hollywood
actress, and she received top billing in Psycho.
What expectations do you have when you see a
film featuring major stars of that magnitude?
Do you know of any other movies that kill off
a major star halfway through? Why is that so
rare? What are the implications of this
decision to do away prematurely with the most
famous and most bankable star in the film?
Just
before the murder of Arbogast and at a couple
of additional moments Hitchcock returns to his
favored high angle shots, but in Psycho
the shift in angle is abrupt and jarring and
seemingly unmotivated. There are obvious
reasons for this choice of camera angles
(Hitchcock didn’t want the audience to get a
good look and say “that’s not Mrs. Bates with
the knife, it’s…”), but given the director’s
fascination with that particular shot, it’s
worth thinking about its significance here.
Whose perspective (if anyone’s) are we shown
in those shots? What does that choice of shots
have to do with the other remarkable stylistic
features of the film, especially the images of
people staring voyeuristically at others, the
interior monologues and voice-offs, and the
horrific violence at the very heart of the
film?
The Birds (1963)
Imdb entry for
The
Birds Although The Birds
is based in part on true stories (of
disoriented migratory birds that smashed into
buildings in California towns, including Santa
Cruz), attacks of this kind are obviously
unprecedented. Given that the film takes some
liberties with reality, how would you identify
the genre of The Birds? Is this a slight
exaggeration of a plausible, vaguely realistic
scenario? Or is this closer to science fiction
or horror, with its monstrous birds unlike
anything in the real world? What
characteristics make these birds a greater
threat than any actual animals? If they are
distinct in important ways from the birds we
encounter in everyday life, what do you think
these birds stand for? What other kinds of
creatures or threats do they resemble and
substitute for in the film? How does the
response of the people in Bodega Bay to this
surprising and terrifying threat? How does
that reaction change over time?
Think
about the attack scenes in The Birds.
These were very difficult to accomplish
technically, and Hitchcock tended to focus on
that dimension of the film in his interviews.
But beyond the technical questions, how would
you describe the attacks in this film? Are
they graphic and explicit? Subtle and
restrained? Which elements of each attack are
shown explicitly? Which are left implicit?
What signals indicate that an attack is
imminent? How much of each assault is visible
or audible? Did any of the attacks seem to
hark back to other scenes in Hitchcock’s
career?
Tippi Hedren was a
relatively unknown performer before her
emergence as a star in The Birds.
(She was a model and occasional actress, and,
after “discovering” her in a television
commercial for a diet drink, Hitchcock
immediately offered her a screen test for The Birds.)
In
many ways Hedren fits the type of the blonde
lead in a Hitchcock film, and Hitchcock
alluded to his own films and stars when
describing his transformation of Hedren into
Melanie Daniels: “I supervised the choice of
wardrobe in every detail—just as Stewart did
with Novak in Vertigo.” In what ways is
Melanie Daniels similar to and different from
the other main female characters in the
Hitchcock films we’ve seen so far? What
qualities does she have in common with the Kim
Novak characters in Vertigo or Eve Kendall in North by
Northwest or Lisa Fremont in Rear Window
(or any other examples that come to mind)?
What distinguishes her? Beyond the dialogue
she recites and the action she performs, what
does Hedren herself bring to the character?
As in
many previous Hitchcock films The Birds
centers on a particular family: a mother, her
son, her much younger daughter, and the women
who try to insert themselves into that family.
Is this an exact repetition of the family
plots we’ve seen elsewhere in Hitchcock? What
differences can you identify, and what is
their significance? Think in particular about
the number of women involved in these
relationships (Mitch is the only major male
character in the film). How would you describe
the interaction between and among women in the
film? Are their relationships supportive and
harmonious? Bitter and full of rivalries? What
does the overarching story of the bird attacks
have to do with the story focused on a family
and in particular on the women inside and
outside that family?
Marnie
was originally intended as a vehicle for the
return of Grace Kelly to the screen (she had
become Princess Grace of Monaco in 1956), but
she ultimately declined to participate
(primarily because the role was considered too
unseemly for a sitting princess, at least
according to the royal family and its
advisers). While Marnie was in limbo,
Hitchcock made The Birds instead; and when
he resumed work on Marnie, the lead role passed
to Tippi Hedren, the star of The Birds.
Like the film itself, Hedren’s performance in
Marnie
was panned by critics, and this setback
severely damaged her career. If you were asked
to review the film, would you give it a
positive or a negative one? In other words, is
this a good movie? Would you also join the
criticism of Hedren? In your experience did
she create a convincing portrayal of a women
suffering from psychological trauma? Why or
why not? At which moments was the acting
particularly poignant? When did the
performance break down? In many ways this is
the Hitchcock film that most foregrounds its
female lead and relegates the male star to a
secondary role. Is this film successful at
exploring the psychology of this especially
important female character? Or is the
character of Marnie no more realistic than the
woman shaped and molded by Scotty in Vertigo?
How does the famous (and infamous) rape scene
affect your understanding of the film’s gender
dynamics?
The McElhaney reading
for this week attempts to trace Marnie’s
connections to the international art cinema of
the 1950s and 1960s. He argues that Marnie is
often misunderstood because it’s usually
viewed within the context of Hitchcock’s
thrillers and Hollywood melodramas instead of
the more closely related films of the French
New Wave, Michelangelo Antonioni, and many
others. He argues that Marnie is
Hitchcock’s attempt to bring “various aspects
of European art cinema into the forms and
structures of a Hitchcock thriller.” If you’ve
seen films by any of the directors mentioned
by McElhaney, did you notice any similarities
between Marnie
and their work? Think in particular about the
use of filters that bathe the image in tinted
light. Whose consciousness produces those
flashes of color? What do we learn from those
scenes? Are these shots unique and new at this
moment in Hitchcock’s career? Or are there
other moments where an individual’s psychology
appears to take over the image or sound track?
Do these shots provide any explanation for why
Marnie steals and why she refuses to allow
anyone to get close to her?
Robin Wood called the
film “expressionist.” Do you agree with that
assessment? Do you see any parallels with
Hitchcock’s earliest work (especially, films
like The
Lodger, made immediately after he
returned to England from Germany)? Whose
vision is expressed in the mise-en-scene of
the film?
What was
your opinion of the ending? What are the
similarities and differences between this
ending and the psychologist’s monologue in Psycho?
The German director Rainer Werner Fassbinder
once said: “I just couldn’t make a film like
Hitchcock’s Marnie
as Marnie
is told, because I don’t have the courage for
such naïveté, simply to make such a film and
then at the end to give such an explanation. I
don’t have that something which is a natural
part of courage, but maybe some day I will
have it, and then I’ll be just like
Hollywood.” Is the ending of Marnie
naïve? Is it courageous in its simplicity? Or
is it a conspicuous attempt to tie up loose
ends and therefore an unsatisfying (or too
easily, cheaply satisfying) conclusion?
Hitchcock described
several of his films as “run-for-cover”
projects that allowed him to return from more
experimental and uncharacteristic productions
to signature Hitchcock stories told in a
familiar style. Is Frenzy a “run-for-cover”
film? Does it echo themes familiar from other
Hitchcock films screened in the course? Which
films seem to be the most similar to Frenzy?
Why?
The Lodger
was also a film about a London serial killer,
and it also centered on a wrong man plot. Is Frenzy a
retelling of that same story but 45 years
later? Or does Hitchcock return to a serial
killer story but alter the form in significant
ways? What are the major differences between
the two films? Remember the expressionistic
lighting in The
Lodger and its experiments with
perspective (e.g., when the landlord and
police inspector “see” the Ivor Novello
character walking across the ceiling while the
chandelier shakes). Does Frenzy
give us access to the states of mind of its
main characters in the same way? If not, what
does Frenzy
focus on?
At the same time he
was reading the early treatments for Frenzy,
Hitchcock confided to an associate: “I’ve just
seen Antonioni’s Blow-Up [made in 1966].
These Italian directors are a century ahead of
me in terms of technique! What have I been
doing all this time?” Antonioni’s films of the
1960s would (by most standards) be as far from
a standard Hitchcock film as possible. Is
there anything in Frenzy that seems like an
attempt to deal with the cinematic and social
revolutions of the 1960s? Is there anything in
the film that strikes you as a radical
departure from the Hitchcock you’re familiar
with?
Thnk
about the environment where the film takes
places. Hitchcock had returned to his hometown
for what many expected to be his last film.
Did you see anything remarkable about the way
Hitchcock presents London in the film? Is this
the London you’d be familiar with from
postcards and tour books? Does he approach the
city in the same way as Rio in Notorious
or San Francisco in Vertigo? Or does Hitchcock,
raised in the London suburbs and returning in
the early 1970s, present this particular world
city in an unusual light?