The 39 Steps (1935)

 “There are twenty million women in this island, and I've got to be chained to you..."

I ought to begin with a confession that I've never read the John Buchan novel.

This is the earliest Hitchcock film I've yet to blog, and it's rather good; a cleverly and appropriately directed tale of paranoia where reality is a slippery thing and, brilliant, the spy plot remains somewhat vague and unreal throughout, leaving us to question our sense of reality no less than Richard Hannay himself.

Redundant though it may be to say so, the suspense is exquisite. Robert Donat is excellent, despite his questionable Canadian accent, with Madeleine Carroll excellent too. The two of them are convincing in the tempestuous yet sexually charged situation in which they find themselves, with lots of sexual chemistry. A very young John Laurie is also superb as a religious zealot and, unlike literally all of the other characters in a film largely set in Scotland, has a genuine Scottish accent.

Yet this is a film about how the world we think we know may have less comfortable realities lurking bebeath, which feel almost supernatural in their unreality. The thirty-nine steps; the missing fingertips; the shadowy nature of the whole conspiract and, of course, the grand guignol circumstances of the mysterious woman's murder all combine to give us a film which establishes a creepy mood well beyond its mere plot. There's nothing supernatural here on the surface, but it certainly doesn't feel that way. Superb.

Rear Window (1954)

 "We've become a race of Peeping Toms."

I last saw this film a scary number of years ago, and can't remember what I thought, although I seem to recall liking it. And yet... this is one of those films that is easy to admire but hard to love.

It's not that this isn't a masterpiece. The very concept is inspired- the claustrophobia and boredom of beng stuck in a two room apartment leads Jeff (a too old but neertheless excellent Jimmy Stewart) to spend his time spying on his neighbours, until he thinks he's witnessed a murder.

And there is such mastery in how the visuals are handled, from the design of the neighbourhood (deliberately complex, three-dimensional and amost Escher-like) to the moment where Thorwald eventually meets Jeff's gaze, and the tension that follows. The future Princes Grace of Monaco is superb, as is good old Hollywood stalwart Thelma Ritter. There's a rather nice theme running throughout of marital harmony or its absence.

And yet... it takes ages to get going and, clever though it is ad as charismatic as its stars may be, the film is just too slow for most of its length for the suspens to realy work: the concept ad execution don't really maage to fill the film's length.

Still, none of that takes away from the fact that this film is a super technical achievement.

The Birds (1963)

" I have never known birds of different species to flock together. The very concept is unimaginable. Why, if that happened, we wouldn't stand a chance. How could we possibly hope to fight them?"

This is probably the last film I'll be blogging before Hallowe'en. I wanted to do a horror film and considered all sorts- there were all sorts of more obvious candidates, but this film seemed irresistible. And it was the right choice.

I'd like to start with how I just don't care that the bird effects are sometimes dated and not quite right; it was 1963,the film is sufficiently well made to render it a minor issue (it's Hitchcock), and it works in context. But this film makes birds terrifying, and makes you fear that they will, indeed, all gang up together, attack you and peck out your eyes. It’s also a fascinating early ‘69s artefact in which everyone is Mr This or Mrs That, men wear hats and indeed suits for dinner at weekends, and there are all sorts of small “c” conservative indicators yet you just know that none of these people are so moronic as to have voted for that orange wanker. Sigh.

It’s a horror film through and through, with birds terrorising a Californian seaside town gradually but totally. Wonderfully, it offers no explanation of why birds have suddenly attacked humans, but it hints at a bleak, perhaps apocalyptic future while leaving the wider world building to our imagination, focusing on Melanie and her obsession with the handsome but rude Mitch and his interestingly characterised family. The main characters are all compelling and, indeed, the early scenes, very Hitchcock-like, appear to be pointing towards a screwball comedy, with the first scene being blatant romantic farce. But Hitchcock tends to play with genre tropes and then change path, which he does here with perfection.

Tippi Hedren is superb, yes, as is the entire cast. But the real star here is Hitchcock as he once again breaks new ground. Suspense, real horror, perfect for this fiendish season.

Psycho (1960)

"We all go a little mad sometimes..."

Wow. This film is a bit good, innit?

I suppose what strikes me, aside from the sheer power of the shower scene and the suddenly artier camerawork with  Marion’s corpse, something which is profoundly effective- and brave, doing something so arty in a film pitched at such a mainstream audience.

But the genius of the film isn’t limited to individual scenes or shots, or indeed to the gloriously radical decision of killing off what we’re implicitly told is the main protagonist halfway through. No; it’s the masterful code-switching between parts of the film which feel like ordinary drama and parts which ramp up the tension and unease- and the sheer mastery of switching between them.

This is a Hitchcock film, of course; you expect tension. Janet Leigh is superb, and carries the film, in thosezearly scenes where she’s on the run and evading the ever-present police. But once we reach the Bates Motel, the mood changes- or rather, it doesn’t, at least not immediately. The excellent Anthony Perkins comes across as lonely, weak, a little dorky perhaps, but he feels normal at first, and we (and Marion) feel at ease.

And then we don’t.

The sudden switch where Marion says the wrong thing to Norman- about putting his mother away- is deeply effective, and that’s certainly down to the performance but also down to the direction; suddenly the entire visual grammar of the film changes and the way the camera is used- the very thing that controls our sense of reality- suddenly becomes uncomfortable, unnerving. And stats that way whenever Hitchcock wants it to.

What lingers, though, is that extraordinary final shot of Bates looking as scary, through sheer acting, as anything in all of cinema. Superb.

Suspicion (1941)

"What did you think I was trying to do? Kill you?"

In hindsight it's easy to see why this isn't one of Hitchcock's most well-known films. Oh, Joan Fontaine and Cary Grant are their usual charismatic selves and the direction is, as one might expect, superb. Except that the story upon which the film is based is both not that good and somewhat lacking in suspense. Essentially, rich heiress Lina marries gambling ne'er-do-well Johnnie, who is irresponsible but has a good heart, ad the film comes up with unconvincing and contrived reasons for her to suspect him of trying to kill her for her money. Even the idea that he might be a killer is broached late in the film, never seems convincing even with Hitchcock;s bag of tricks as a result of the script failing to establish him as a potential threat, and the frantic ending just feels odd and at variance with the rest of the film.

It's notable how very posh the milieu of the film appears to be, just as there doesn't seem to be a war on; our couple honeymoon in Paris, Monaco and Italy- in 1941. It's engaging for much of its length, and both Joan Fontaine and Cary Grant are obviously watchable. Just... don't necessarily make this the only Hitchcock film you ever see.

Notorious (1946)

"I am married to an American agent!"

I'm not entirely sure why German spies should still be up to no good by April 1946 when the film takes place, but this is a justly celebrated classic with magnificent dialogue, splendid performances from Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant- whose chemistry is electric- genuine suspense, and some absolutely astounding directing, specially towards the end when the camera shows us just how disoriented Alicia is.

Behind all this, though, is a pleasingly progressive message: the superbly hard-drinking Alicia is brave and patriotic for infiltrating these dangerous Nazis as she does, making the sacrifice of even having regular sex with Sebastian, their leader, yet the men (all of them are men) who are "running" her simply dismiss her as a whore, with only Devlin to defend her honour. Such are the double standards applied so depressingly often to women even today, but Hitchcock is to be applauded for addressing this in 1946.

The plot is like clockwork, the final few minutes electric, and the conclusion deeply satisfying. This is a truly fine film.

The Lady Vanishes (1938)

"I never think you should judge any country by its politics. After all, we English are quite honest by nature, aren't we?"

I've seen a fair few Hitchcocks but, shockingly, this is the first film helmed by the great Sir Alfred that I've blogged. It's an early, pre-Hollywood film, but all his gifts for suspense are already on evidence. Engaging characters, a worry script and a solid presence- an old lady mysteriously vanished from a moving train and people start denying that she was ever there- make this a bloody good film. Margaret Lockwood and Michael Redgrave are superb as leads.

The characterisation, direction, dialogue and acting come across as fresh and mover considering the film's age, and I love the two cricket-obsessed Englishmen. The plot twist is also handled extremely well and successfully as the conspiracy unravels and peril (I love that word) ensues. This isn't perhaps one of the best known Hitchcocks but it's certainly a bloody good film.