Frenzy (1972)

It’s been a difficult time for me and the Master of Suspense.  Ever since the Birds, I haven’t honestly been enthralled with any of his films.  This includes Marnie (though this is appreciate much more than the others) Torn Curtain and Topaz.  With the latter two in particular, it appeared the Master didn’t have any interest in creating something to the level of quality associated with his previous films.  Was it the demanding actors?  Or pressure from the studio?  These are only rumors and nothing can confirm definitely what caused their lackluster nature.  The only question I had as I proceed through his films: would the slump last?

The answer is a resounding no!  Three years after Topaz, Hitch made Frenzy.  Prior to my viewing the only knowledge of the film I had was that it involved a serial killer and it was Hitch’s first and only R rated film (I guess based on this I knew one additional thing: no matter what, it was going to be light years better than M Night Shyamalan’s first and only R rated film). 

Richard Ian Blaney (Jon Finch) is a down-on-his-luck, ex air force pilot who is now also an ex-bartender after being fired for supposedly pilfering some beer.  Things get worse as his ex-wife gets killed by the Necktie Strangler (the serial killer I mentioned in the last paragraph) and by very unfortunate coincidence Blaney is assumed to be him.  While he attempts to prove his innocence with help from the few friends he has, we deal with the knowledge of who the murderer actually is!  What follows?  SUSPENSE.

Now it’s not exactly brimming with suspense, as there this film contains some welcome macabre comedy.  Regardless, the film is a triumphant return to form for Hitch.  Original yet familiar, Frenzy is a dark yet very enjoyable film that most would commonly associate with the director.  Hitch tropes such as “the wrong man”, sympathy for the killer, and even the MacGuffin are all present in full force.  Something that we haven’t seen for some time is also the macabre humor that is present throughout, even causing this writer to laugh out loud multiple times.

While there is familiarity, plenty new material keeps one interested including the twisty plot and various characters.  The unique cast assists here, with standouts by Bernard Cribbins (the bar owner), Anna Massey (squeeze and fellow bartender Babs), Barry Foster (his successful businessman friend Robert... at the very least) and Alec McCowen as a smart yet wonderfully stressed inspector (stressed only because of his wife’s newfound interested in cooking; many a hilarious interludes follow with his innocent struggles portrayed on screen). 

Also music is decent by Ron Goodwin, if nowhere near the quality of Bernard Herrmann (supposedly Henry Mancini was responsible for the original/unused score; after hearing a sample I soooo wish it was his score we heard).  However cinematography and atmosphere are wonderful throughout, including many shots of silence or just diegetic sound portraying a seemingly normal sequence, though we the audience know that something dreadful is going on or about to happen.  These long takes show that Hitch still had the capability for unmatched cinematic talent. 

Now it’s worth mentioning: this film is arguably much more viscerally twisted and disturbing that all of his others.  However if you’re ok with some fairly naughty material, this is a masterpiece that belongs on the pedestal with much of his other classics.

Topaz (1969)

A lot can happen in three years.  Get married, divorced, kids, or follow up the lackluster Torn Curtain with a new hopefully superior film.  That’s actually what I anticipated going into this, though I had no reason too.  The international intrigue behind the plot, the unusually long length of the film (close to 2 ½ hours) and the lack of star power had me hopeful that this would be Hitch’s film through and through.  Sadly, these changes and time did not help much.

The plot deals with a Russian defector to the US who lets them know about a traitor in their midst.  This leads CIA agent Michael Nordstrom (John Forsythe in his first Hitchcock role since The Trouble With Harry) to utilize one of his French contacts Andre Devereaux (played by Frederick Stafford) and send him undercover to Cuba so that he may discover the extent of this conspiracy, and what exactly “Topaz” is (besides the title of this fairly average movie). 

Hard to say what the Master of Suspense saw interesting about this story.  Granted it was more relevant possibly at the time, being made during the cold war and taking place during the Cuban Missile Crisis (the plot is actually positioned to be the cause of the crisis, though references to this just feel forced).  However for me there was hardly any suspense at all, which is of course one of the major traits generally in all of Hitchcock’s films.  Mystery of who the mole was kept the plot moving and my attention on the screen, but only barely so.  Another issue

Actors do fine, with some standout performances by the female leads Dany Robin and Karin Dor, playing wife of Devereaux and lover of Devereaux respectively, but are hardly given the time or space necessary to shine adequately (save for an almost iconic shot with her and her purple dress).  Just as well, John Vernon as the antagonistic Fidel Castro-type Cuban commander Rico Parra almost made me think he was Cuban, but anyone who’s seen Animal House will recognize him right away.  Even Forsythe and Stafford are fine… but that’s it: just fine.  Usually “Hitchcock” mean “exceptional” or some similar adjective when describing aspects of his films.

If I had seen this movie without knowing it was directed by Alfred Hitchcock, I would’ve told you it was an above average thriller made during the 60s and that I would’ve been mildly curious to see who the director was.  There are minor moments that do stick out, mainly as they are unique or experimental (wide shot of dialogue without audio, blending of stock footage with film footage) which can certainly be associated with many films of the Master.  Mostly however, everything is relatively mundane and uncharacteristic of his cinematic abilities or counterparts (music, editing, and other technical features are lacking too). 

Apperantely 3 years wasn’t enough to get back on track.  Maybe Hitch should try another 3…

Marnie (1964)

One year after the relatively unique nature thriller The Birds and terrifying horror film Psycho, Hitch comes back to one of his oft-used tropes (though less so than something like his wrong man thriller archetype): the “psychological profile mystery” or something like it.  Movies like Suspicion and even Rebecca fit into this mold.  I’ve never been extremely fond those films, at least more so than some of his others.  Would returning to this common theme after such originality? 

The titular Marnie (played by The Birds’ Tippi Hedren) seems to survive in life through stealing from employers and then moving on.  However she has some deep rooted issues with her mother, sleeping, and the color red.  For decades no one has been able to help her, until debonair James Bond (sorry, actually his name is Mark Rutland, but he’s played by Sean Connery so…) comes along, reads a book and then psycho analyzes the love of his life.  Realistic?  Not really.  Does it matter?  Not extremely.

Marnie is supposedly a classic.  For those not aware a classic is defined by Google as:

1. A work of art of recognized and established value
2. A school subject that involves the study of ancient Greek and Latin literature, philosophy, and history
3. A major sports tournament of competition, as in golf or tennis

I guess its meant to fit #1.  However, my own definition would include iconic, re-watchable, and indispensable, and I really can’t view that in these terms.  I’ve only seen it once now and perhaps it needs another viewing, but this doesn’t hold much of a candle to Hitch’s previous works which I do regard as classics, and unfortunately doesn’t bode well for the rest of the films produced afterwards.

Much of the issue has to be attributed to the story, which just doesn’t seem to give this writer much interest. However some major problems also relate to certain special effects, such as the red flashes on screen when Marnie sees red, supposedly personifying her condition when instead it just creates unintentional humor.  Other such effects include camera zooms representing her interest in something, backed by Bernard Hermann’s gorgeous yet inappropriate score resulting in me giggling hysterically. 

Acting is fine for the most part, especially with Tippi Hedren improving greatly on her debut in The Birds.  Also Connery is effective as the debonair businessman who is borderline obsessed with Hedren’s Marnie and at times believable with his dabbling in psychotherapy.  However it is Marnie’s mother, played by Louise Latham who is wonderfully realistic, even though she wasn’t that much older than Hedren.  Makeup effects being what they were with Latham at her age, it’s amazing how effective she is as the old and then young mother (in flashbacks).

The film eventually ends with a fascinating resolution of sorts, but the fact that it was so difficult to see that it was going in this direction made it that much more difficult to watch such a directionless bore.  It was at times likeable, but also much a frustrating film all on its own as well as the fact that this is the Master behind it, besides the familiar story territory and production values (though hard to determine a MacGuffin here).  One scene of poignant suspense while Marnie attempts to steal money is fairly redeeming, but not necessarily to save the whole movie. 

Some call it a standout classic.  Right now, I feel like it is a misstep. 

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).

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…