The Birds (1963)

After Vertigo Hitchcock took what it my mind was a much needed break until his next film.  You could say three of the best films of all time in three years deserves such (though it might have not been said until years after the release of these films) but even though this gap existed, he appears to have still been busy with his TV show Alfred Hitchcock Presents and, I’m sure, developing his next movie project.  After almost completely shattering any clichés of his 30+ year career in film, he does so again with 1963’s The Birds, a tour de force of scarring thrills, beautiful score (if you call birds screeching music), and *technical bravura. 

*for the time…

For those interested in the plot (though the Master is clearly not concerned with how the characters come together for the main story) Melanie Daniels (played by Tippi Hedren) is kind of attracted to this well off man from Bordega Bay, an oceanside village near San Francisco.  She heads up there on a whim, playing an inside joke of sorts by placing a bird on his doorstep after running into him at a bird store (shit, there are already a lot of birds…).  After getting attacked by a BIRD, she looks to stay the night.  The next day more BIRDS attack her and others, until for some reason there are more and more of these creatures seemingly at war with the peaceful village and… if you’ve seen Tremors, Jaws, or countless other horror/thrillers that have nature or some warped version of it become the enemy, I probably don’t need to go any further (hell, Mars Attacks could be viewed as a remaks…it’s a stretch, I know).  

 

Coming out more than 50 years ago and only having seen/appreciated it when I was a kid, I went into this fairly nervously, mainly because I feared dated special effects and boring subject matter (in other words, major elements of the movie!).  Luckily I was overall surprised at its effects so many years and so many imitators later (one that unfortunately came to mind was M. Night Shamalamadingdong’s movie The Happening; see it for a laugh) and how days after watching it I was still affected.  It’s certainly not perfect, and very unfortunately dated, but it’s not bad.

As I alluded to, many of Hitch’s earlier tropes and traits are not here.  This is not a murder mystery, a “wrong man” thriller, a comedy, or even much of a romance.  Visuals are still clearly his, but also missing is Bernard Hermann’s quintessential score (though the lack-thereof here is welcome; more on that later) and a clear McGuffin.  If there’s one thing the characters are after, it’s… survival?

 

Story wise, it excels from a modern viewpoint as it clearly inspired many films that followed it and presented a genre not really yet seen in cinema: nature thriller.  Sure we had sci-fi schlock with other-worldly monsters like things, black lagoon things, spider things that are big, etc. but never something all of us can completely relate to, or really scare us to the point of scarring.  The effect may not be as common today as it was when the film was brand new, but now I look at birds and can’t help but wonder if they’re plotting something (reminds me of a quote David Fincher has said about his belief of cinema and essentially how he wanted this “scarring effect” on the viewer).  Music wise, it is truly wonderful: there is essentially no music!  Hermann was still a consultant on the film because he helped with the sounds/noise of the titular subject, which in a sense acted as the score.  Doing so helped to create a truly minimalist and effectively haunting atmosphere: instead of traditional orchestral movie pieces, we just hear the sounds of nature prepping to maim and kill.

Acting is fine and serviceable, with decent performances by Hedren, Rod Taylor, and an even better performance by Jessica Tandy (Miss Daisy!).  However these characters could almost be played by anybody, and are certainly positioned as second fiddle to the more complex main characters (complex due to their technical nature; I’ll discuss more about how “technical” in the next paragraph).

Technical effects of this kind were I’m sure amazing to witness in the 60s!  Having said that, they are majorly dated in this film.  This as I’m sure you’d understand relates to the birds, whether they be fake and actually flying at the actor, or real and superimposed/rotoscoped into the scene.  However, there are moments (i.e. God’s view of the city before a major attack) where believability is understood even for the most jaded viewer.  These moments owe considerable debt to Albert Whitlock who’s matte paintings added essential verisimilitude.

 

Overall, as the film progresses it gets better with regards to the lack of believability from a modern viewpoint.  Much credit is also due to the third act, where instead of seeing much of enemy with our protagonists (aka humanity) in hiding, we only hear the potentially impending doom.  I must say there were moments here, and elsewhere in the film, where this quinquagenarian of a film surpassed the suspense of its contemporaries.  It is truly these moments along with a few other elements that keep it as a certain highpoint in Hitch’s filmography, and again showing why he is the Master of Suspense without retreading familiar territory. 

If you’ve only ever feared birds because of them pooping on you, watch the below trailer (till the end).

Psycho (1960)

It’s very hard to find a director who has made three exceptional films in three years, much less three exceptional films over any amount of time.  1958 brought the tragic romantic thriller Vertigo and 1959 gave an aggregation of Hitchcock’s “Wrong Man” oeuvre with a career best North by Northwest.  With solid stories, scores, credit sequences, action, mystery, and even humor, they stood out among the rest of Hitch’s considerable filmography.   What could possibly have a chance of originality after all this?

It comes in the form of one man named Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins in a career best even without regarding the lack of other options) in the horror classic Psycho.  Even if you’re a cinebriate novice at best, chances are you’ve at least heard of the film and are aware of both the iconic shower scene and its accompanying music (again, and at the risk of sounding like a shitty record, the great composer Bernard Herman).   The Master of Suspense famously started a promotional campaign of sorts that stopped late movie goers from entering the cinema so as to avoid ruining a major shocks ~45 minutes into the film.  As such and in respect to it, I’ll avoid spilling out many other plot details (even artwork in this post is meant to avoid spoilers) except that Janet Leigh is also serviceable along with Perkins as the “main” character Marion Crane (watch the movie to find out what the quotes are for… and if you’re smart, I’m sorry for already ruining it for you).

With North by Northwest servicing up a solid dose of entertainment, Hitch was apparently ready to delve out the dread once again, except this time in such revolutionary fashion.  Traits are consistent here with some of his more recent previous films, including a blonde at the center, Herman score, mystery, intrigue and the MacGuffin (though not obvious, and almost something anybody would want: a bag of money).  Otherwise, he creates a truly gritty atmosphere with black and white cinematography, seedy (for the time) sex scenes, and a really dank motel that even its caretaker Norman Bates thinks is creepy.  The low budget doesn’t hurt the feel of grime (and neither did it hurt Hitch’s pockets when this film become a full fledged phenomenon).

Again, if you really haven’t seen this, to describe more of the film would only take away from the potential surprises that lay ahead (and there are a multitude of points for candidates).  Just know that it is a fairly unique entity in Hitch’s filmography, and that is saying something.

Again again, if you really haven’t seen this, get it done now!  Instead of checking the trailer, listen to this piece of score below.    

North By Northwest (1959)

Vertigo was truly the cat’s proverbial pajamas, and shocked me with a fully cinematic experience.  Perhaps it was a little to serious for a onesie, but still very solid.  However word on the street is that audiences of the time didn’t dig the film they way it is regarded today.  Hitch appeared to have been working on his next film even during Vertigo’s production, which appears to be very prescient of him.  After all what would be better than following up this gloomy thriller with what is probably his most entertaining film ever?

North by Northwest (or NBN as it will be called throughout this post so we can save lives) follows Cary Grant as ad exec Roger Thornhill with quite possibly the most ridiculous case of mistaken identity ever (be careful when you ask for a waiter).  He then gets involved in a plot with all sorts of fancy evildoers (headlined by James Mason and a very young/weird Martin Landau), assassinations of UN officials, planes attacking in the middle of nowhere in very uneconomical fashion (um run him over with a car?!) and a forward young woman (Eva Marie Saint playing Eve Kendall) way too many years his junior … unless you are a character played by Cary Grant.  Does this make for some ridiculous movie fodder?  Yes, but Hitch’s appreciation of audience awareness makes this one thoroughly thrilling and equally comical ride.

Seeing this movie as a youngster, my only recollection was that Cary Grant was on the run, being falsely accused or something.  Still I knew that would happen going in, and as such the moment I saw how he gets into this predicament, you can't help but laugh.  Even though it may seem a lame course by which to get the plot rolling, the fact that right before this moment the lead is truly incredulous as to how he got into this mess leads to totally hilarity.  It is a twist on the "wronged man" mold the Master established, with a comedy of errors blended in.

Continuing phase 3 of his career (as mentioned in the last post, the arguable apex of his talent) the Master starts NBN with a great, unique, and electric credit sequence setting the stage for the journey you and the characters (literally West… and kinda North) will take.  Set pieces are sometimes large, with the UN and Mount Rushmore being key though completely overshadowed (in this viewer’s humble opinion) by a train where Thornhill and Kendall meet, as well as backdrop near a cornfield where an infamous airplane attack occurs (we’re foreshadowing Bond villains with these ridiculous murder attempts).

Still as I reference earlier, a fine balance is taken to keep the film funny while still building suspense, mystery and romance.  Hitchcock certainly appreciates the audience; he always gives us crucial knowledge the characters don’t have.   But here he furthers that fondness with understanding of clichés and traits of other films, including those he made beforehand.  Now granted it may not work for everyone, and I am a self professed film geek that might appreciate it more than others, but with the amount of love for this film I highly doubt it. 

It’s not all fun and games however, with the unfortunate dating issues.  There are some great shots with matte paintings that while appearing dated and fake, are nonetheless beautiful and respectable.  But this along with some odd experimental choices and rear-screen projection are present throughout Hitch’s filmography.  I can nit pick all I want, but these minor critisms can’t hold back major compliments to most of his filmography, especially this film.

I’m almost certain that even my contemporaries that are more interested in the movies of the day could fall for this, which goes to show the power the Master of Suspense imbued in his 56-year-old masterpiece. 

Vertigo (1958)

We come to it at last!  No more waiting, no more suspense (aka waiting for the bomb to explode), and plenty more vibrant colors then we’ve seen previously in films by the Master of Suspense!  Apparently regarded as a better and better film with time (Sight And Sound’s 2012 poll of directors, writers and critics worldwide had it at #1 among voters) Vertigo was altogether off of my radar besides such aspects as the iconic love theme, the infamous dolly-in, zoom-out effect (or vice versa) and notes from family that it was colorful (whether that meant literally or figuratively was unknown to me until now).  After 13 posts on films made before this “masterpiece” however, I’ve finally come to the point where I view what Hitchcock could do at his arguable apex.  If I were able to classify my feelings as symptoms of Vertigo : early enamoration with only slighty lessened optimism after 2 hours.

Let me start by elaborating on that first symptom regarding enamoration (which if not a word, should be): wowza (this has less of a chance of being a real word… but it should be as well)!  The opening credit sequence is amazingly, surprisingly, stupendously so much more cinematic than that of Hitch's previous films (and by extension many others) that my jaw was literally dropped possibly earlier on than in any other films.  You will find no traditional credits sequence (i.e. including lack of apparent book pages full of actors and crew) but you will see visuals that seem to go far beyond 1958 in regards to their uniqueness.  It could be this remastered Blu-ray (via the special features, apparently Universal put in 2 years and 1 million buck to restore the physically decrepit negative) but other movies get their cleaning time too and yet this looks vastly superior.  Overall, if I was otherwise uninformed it appears to be a film from the 1978 rather than 1958.  The music doesn’t hurt either; backing the awe-inspiring void on the screen full of yearning, haunting, and love all at once, this sequence leads us to a film so much more natural (and cinematic at the same time) than most films before and many after.

If Hitch had phases during his career, this is Phase III (that is if Marvel Phase III ends up being the best) with The Man Who Knew Too Much and Rear Window being soft beginnings to the epoch.  It’s unbelievable that it was made only 2 years after the former, especially as besides rear screen projection and cinematography, so many of his regular story, plot points, and other cinematic traits aren’t necessarily present.  Here he seems to go above and beyond his already experienced and sharpened skills into a realm of nirvana for cinema.  I’m so struck that there needs to be a new term like…Cinemana?  

Probably not, but that is fairly representative of how it felt, and made me realize how I feel about my most favorite movies: important aspects such as story and visuals are in place, but all other combined aspects of the film lead to something that goes far beyond the first two points. It transcends these traditional defaults.  So much so, that it almost becomes secondary to everything surrounding the story (and doesn’t work for everyone, Michael Bay).

Still even in my blissful state, I can/need to dig into some of the details of this standout by Hitch:

• San Francisco is ideal setting: with so many driving scenes, the hills obstruct the pursuit and keep for a mysterious ride
• Acting by Stewart was expectedly, but the unknown (to me ) Novak excelled
• Music was great (#already covered)
• Colors were vibrant, with only issue being almost too vibrant dream sequence (maybe title should’ve been Technicolor Dream Boat)

I wish I had more, but this really is a superior oddity in the director’s filmography (and I’m still reflecting on how it made me feel).  As the film progresses, I have to be honest that I was distracted trying to decipher why so many cinephiles have recently thought this film was greater than Citizen Kane.  I can’t say I agree at the moment, but can certainly see reasons why the propose it.  He rises above all of his usual traits – the McGuffin, the mystery, the innocent man, even the suspense to a substantial degree – substituting it with romance, obsession, and how both completely overtake the main character. 

I’ve just realized that I completely skipped over what the plot even was!  As you may be able to gather from the rest of the post, that may just be one of the unique effects of Vertigo.

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934 AND 1956)

One of my favorite/only full viewing experiences of a Hitchcock film as an adolescent was the (at the time of viewing) fairly scary 1956 classic The Man Who Knew Too Much.  I recall with fondness a riveting suspense thriller, even though it was probably going on 40-something years of age.

Needless to say, as I’ve been going through Hitch’s filmography I’ve been looking forward to the day where I could view this film with more adult/jaded eyes.  

However before I even attempted to start watching these films in a row (now going on more than one year… people do know me to be long-winded) I discovered this film is actually a remake… of one of his own films (The Man Who Knew Too Much from 1934)!  Having watched both back to back (hence the “3 oz shot” in the title, cause 1.5 oz is a shot and if you multiply that by 2 you get 3…“double shot” would’ve been better in retrospect), what fascinates me more than just the revisit of the 1956 version is why the Master conducted a reboot of one of his classics, what changed the second time around, and if there is a clear victor.

Note: from here on out, the films will be referenced by code names: “Swatch” for the 1934 version, and “Mint Tea” for the 1956 version.  I may explain why, but I reserve the right not too as then you’ll know too much... 

The similar plots and almost identical 2nd act peaks could make a brief plot description to cover both films possible: a couple and their child go somewhere foreign, only to have said child taken away because the dad learns something is isn’t supposed to know.  Thus the parents are put into extraordinary circumstances where they must choose between their child or the potential assassination of a public figure.  Suspense with sly humor ensues (aka duh, it’s a Hitchcock film).

While I’ve already mentioned that the plot is fairly similar in structure, differences are happily plentiful (why else would the Master want to perform a redo?)  One clear difference is visuals, specifically the setting for the first act, with Mint Tea taking place in the temperate climate of Africa while Swatch took place in Switzerland (well that didn’t take long to spoil the code).  Besides locale, Swatch has a certain suspenseful quality that is more effortlessly portrayed due to the grittier atmosphere (i.e. no saturation of colors with 1950s Hollywood production standards like in Mint Tea; the prettiness removes the realism at times).  The remake lacks the much more magnetic villain being played by Peter Lorre in the original.  However the focus in Mint Tea is clearly all on Stewart and Day (proof is only needed by looking at the posters for the films) where attention is almost equally divided between parents and villain in Swatch.  Another major departure is the end of each film, in which the antagonists receive justice via very different methods (Mint Tea wins the day here, as suspense keeps us going whereas a understandably dated shootout scene in Swatch becomes repetitive).  

One cannot overlook the elephant in the room - the fact that Swatch is much older.  Editing and sound are slightly dated (Criterion has a release that may be superior than the release I watched) understandably along with visuals, and humor is much more dated than Mint Tea.  Just as well, scenes that shouldn’t be funny are unintentionally so (I’m looking at you very fight scene with evil dentist).  Technically there is no contest - Mint Tea surpasses not just because of advancements in equipment, but also the precision that Hitch developed over the 20 years since.  This is also shown in character development: while Swatch does appear more taut and focused at times, the film is possibly too rushed, leaving us without much feeling for the parents and their lost child.  In all honesty, all I wanted to do was watch Peter Lorre perform, which is an issue/blessing either because of the character, Peter Lorre’s acting, or (probably) a combo.  (One area where the Peter Lorre character detracts is the reveal: we know he’s the villain when we first see him, but the antagonists in Mint Tea are much more of a fun surprise.)

Though these projects differ, fine similarities exist.  The idea of a (ostensibly) intelligent but innocent husband (doctor in Mint Tea, unknown profession in Swatch) and his wife is intriguing: an everyday man with book smarts but naiveté when it comes to street smarts, especially as a fish out of water.  It harkens to other Hitchcock films with similar main characters like The 39 Steps, Saboteur and the soon to be watched North by Northwest (should call this Hitch-subgenre Man On The Run… better yet something way more original/clever/fun).   Fish out of water

There is scene however that was cut right out of Swatch and inserted into Mint Tea (with some wonderful embellishment of course): the Symphony sequence.  Both have the same music, similar shots of the killer’s weapon (no pun intended) and the key antidote to stopping the killer from fulfilling his duties (hint: it’s loud).  While each scene excels, as it is essentially an update of the scene in Mint Tea, Hitch has a chance to really flesh it out with a wonderful stage, multiple characters, better acting, and of course higher quality sound.  With the backdrop of score taking prominence in the scene (the exact same piece of music in both films) it truly is the operatic and cinematic centerpiece.  

So with all of this in mind, how does this writer lean?  Overall, I generally feel comfortable shouting (as you, for example, when you’re at the opera) that both films should be seen.  However, I also quietly want to tell you, while looking around the room to make sure no one will stab me, that watching the second would be a much better experience, and better so by not watching this film first and spoiling the latter.  

I’ve already said too much…