Monday, March 18, 2013

Week 9: Rebecca (1940)

Rebecca, based on the novel by Daphne Du Maurier, follows the story of a young woman (Joan Fontaine) who travels to the South of France as a paid companion for a rude, abrupt woman. She is swept off her feet by the handsome but mysterious Maxim De Winter (Laurence Olivier) who recently lost his wife in a tragic drowning accident. To keep her from returning to New York with her employer, Maxim proposes to and marries the woman, taking her to his home, Manderlay. But once there, she finds that the shadow of his ex-wife, Rebecca, has a haunting presence that she can't seem to overcome.

I don't even know where to begin when talking about Rebecca. While not necessarily my personal favorite, it is certainly in my top five or so, and it is probably the most fascinating of all his works in my mind. It was his first film made in Hollywood, and it won Best Picture in 1940, his only film to do so.

Something I particularly love about this film is the symbolism of names. Maxim has three first names, giving him lots of esteem and apparent power and prestige. Rebecca's name titles the film and is used frequently, but she never appears. And the second Mrs. De Winter, the "lead," has no name. She is only identified by the name of her husband, and even then when the characters refer to Mrs. De Winter they are most often referring to Rebecca. De Maurier was very crafty and deliberate in this tier of names and power.

Hitchcock was ever his controlling self in this film. He studied handwriting in preparation, and he was quite adamant that the characters should have handwriting that matched their personality types. So if you were to analyze the notes written by the characters you would find their character traits in their writing.

Furthermore, he butted heads with producer David O. Selznick quite a bit in this film. One particular instance is that Selznick insisted that the film should end with smoke over Manderlay in the shape of an R. Hitchcock thought that was tacky and lacked subtlety, so he waited until Selznick was busy with his work on Gone with the Wind, and he changed the shot to the embroidered case in the flames. He even edited the film in the camera so that Selznick could have no possible way of changing it back. Hitchcock always had to have his way, auteur that he was. 
The directing and cinematography are beautifully executed. Hitchcock chose to shoot the film in black and white to contribute to the dark mood. He used deep focus photography, in which both close and distant planes are kept in focus, which was at the time a relatively unused style. And so much of the film is about the look in people's eyes, and reading what the characters are thinking without hearing what they are saying. It is through this that we feel the pain in Fontaine's character, the conflict in Olivier's, and the hatred in that of Mrs. Danvers, Rebecca's confidante and maid of Manderlay. It is lovely to see the dynamics in the characters.

The acting in the film is wonderful. Laurence Olivier is flawless as always. The viewer watches a strong man with a dark secret that turns him weak and heavyhearted, and he plays it to perfection. Fontaine is amazing. She was not a very big star at the time, and competed with over 20 other actresses for the part. In fact, Olivier wanted Vivien Leigh, whom he was dating at the time, to play the part, and she was strongly considered. He was so bitter about Fontaine getting the part over Leigh that he treated Fontaine awfully on the set. Hitchcock, not one to let such an opportunity pass him by, chose to tell Fontaine that everyone on the set hated her, contributing to her performance as a woman with no power and no self esteem. Fontaine shows a great range in this film, as her character is the only one who takes a great journey. Not many Hitchcock films focus primarily on the story of a woman, and she pulled this one off with grace and elegance.

Of course I would be amiss to not point out the breathtaking performances of some of the minor characters. Judith Anderson delivers a cold, chilling portrayal of Mrs. Danvers that gives me nightmares every time I watch the film. She is showstopping in this film. And Florence Bates provides some lovely comic acting at the beginning of the film as Fontaine's rude and overbearing employer. Interestingly enough, Bates had never acted in a film before this part. She began stage acting just years before, but she had a long list of careers before that. Besides running an antique shop, teaching, and being a social worker, she was the first woman to pass the bar in Texas. She met Hitchcock briefly before he cast the film and he offered her the part.

I am always surprised when I meet a fan who has not seen this film, and I would recommend it to anyone. It's a classic, so if you haven't seen it, do yourself a favor and go watch it!




Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Week 8: Young and Innocent (1937)

Young and Innocent follows the story of a young man who finds a body on the beach of a woman who had met before. He runs to get help, but two witnesses walking along the beach see him and believe he is fleeing the scene of the crime. When it is discovered that she left him money in her will, the police believe they have their murderer. He escapes from the courthouse before arraignment and enlists the help of the chief commissioner's daughter to assist him in proving his innocence.

This is one of Hitchcock's British films, and was renamed when released in America to The Girl Was Young. It is very loosely based on the novel A Shilling for Candles by Josephine Tey. This film, while enjoyable, definitely lacks some of the substance Hitchcock typically provides.

Some of the filmwork is very beautiful, particularly the shots of the beach toward the beginning, and shots of a crumbling mine later in the film. It was visually very appealing and well edited.

The acting is quite good. By far the best part of the film is the development of the relationship between the escapee, Robert Tisdale (Derrick De Marney) and the commissioner's daughter, Erica (Nova Pilbeam). Pilbeam is particularly impressive as the witty, insightful girl who at first doubts Robert's innocence, but ultimately comes to realize that he is telling the truth. She is quite conflicted about helping him because of her personal ties to the policemen involved, but knows that without her help he is doomed. They have an excellent onscreen chemistry, and Hitchcock allows plenty of time for us to see them fall in love. We don't always get the chance to see that process in a Hitchcock film because so much is typically going on that it has to happen in a matter of two or three scenes, but in this work we get that added benefit of realism in the love journey.

However, that is about the extent of any realism in the film. It contains two of his main go-to themes, that of a wrongly accused man, and that of police being completely incompetent. When Hitchcock was a small boy his parents had the police pretend to arrest him as some form of punishment. It left him pretty frightened of police and very bitter, as evidenced in many of his films. This one takes it to an extreme.

To Hitchcock's credit, I believe this was a deliberate choice on his part, in an attempt to make a very satirical film about the criminal justice system and police incompetence. We see the police as bumbling fools from the beginning, latching on to the smallest bit of evidence against Tisdale and not considering any other suspects. Tisdale's appointed lawyer is even worse, a fool who can barely put together a thought, much less a criminal defense case. But the fact that the police never even consider to look into the murdered woman's ex-husband, who she recently went to great efforts to divorce, and who she got into loud screaming matches with, takes that satire to an unbelievable level, and I think it weakens the film.

Furthermore, the movie has ridiculous plot manipulation as well as several plot holes. We never get a satisfactory explanation for why Tisdale is in the murdered woman's will. She knew him but they have no serious relationship or even friendship. There would simply be no reason for her to leave him a substantial amount of money.

Even worse is the fact that she was strangled with a belt off of a raincoat that belonged to Tisdale. It had been conveniently stolen the week before from his car outside of a bar and then the raincoat had been passed along to a bum who ultimately helped Tisdale identify the killer as the man who had given him the coat. The killer also left a book of matches from his place of work in the coat pocket so they knew exactly where to find him. I assume Hitch wanted us to think that the killer had stolen Tisdale's coat in order to frame him, but it seems very unlikely that he would be so meticulous in stalking Tisdale, pouncing at the first possible opportunity, stealing the coat, and using the belt as the murder weapon to set him up, but all the while being so careless that instead of disposing of the coat or returning it to Tisdale's car, he would just give it to a bum who frequents the bar and could easily identify him, not to mention forgetting to check the pockets for clues. It just doesn't make any sense. It's very convoluted and not up to the master's standards.

That being said, watching the journey of the characters figuring out how to locate the true killer is fairly entertaining. I had seen this film years before and could barely remember it, and now I am well aware of why I couldn't. 

My ultimate decision on this film is it's worth a watch if you happen to catch it on TV, but only if you are in the mood for some light comedy, and not a true work of art, great suspense, or a satisfying plot.

Monday, March 4, 2013

Week 7: The Wrong Man (1956)

The Wrong Man is based on the true story of Christopher "Manny" Emmanuel Balestrero, a bass fiddle player at the Stork Club and a devoted family man. One day Manny goes into the insurance office to check on his wife's policy in order to acquire a loan needed to remove her wisdom teeth. The women there falsely believe that he is the same man who held them up twice and they call the police. Based on the eyewitness testimony, Manny is arrested and goes to trial for a crime he did not commit.

I had never seen this film before tonight, and I am very sorry that it took me this long to get around to it. This is one of Hitchcock's best works, and I would venture to say his darkest film this side of Psycho. The case of mistaken identity, of a man falsely accused, was one of Hitchcock's favorite themes throughout his entire career. But this one truly stands out for a number of reasons.

The first being that it is indeed based on a true story, and Hitchcock chose to follow the story fairly closely. Hitchcock himself appeared at the beginning of the film to tell the viewer that the story is real. It created a sense or urgency and panic. I found myself yelling at the cops on the television, I was so angry and frustrated with the investigation.The realism was extreme. I felt very attached to Manny, and I felt that I could truly sense his pain.

The second was the very dark, cynical edge this movie had. This was partially due to the realism, but also to pure Hitchcockian technique. I think this was his best shot film as far as the art of camera work goes, all contributing to that dark, hopeless feel. One particularly impressive sequence of film is when Manny is being marched into the prison. There is a series of quick shots of Manny's face, looking down, then his feet, then a back view of the feet of prisoners walking in front of him. The entire sequence is very unsettling. It was truly a work of art.

The score also helped create the dark atmosphere. I found myself hooked by the music from the opening scene. Even in the peaceful moments I never felt settled or safe, because the music was constantly lurking creepily, creating a sense of suspense and reminding me that this story would not be a pleasant one.

The final scene of the film left me with a sick feeling, in a good way, a Hitchcock-is-definitely-the-master-of-suspense way. It was extremely dark and creepy and very disturbing. 

The acting was phenomenal. Henry Fonda captured Manny Balestrero. He was sympathetic, real, and very true to the character. The star of the show turned out to be Vera Miles though, in her performance as Manny's wife Rose. The viewer most likely takes little notice of her for most of the film. But her performance in two scenes of the film had me speechless, and at the end of the film it was her I was thinking about, and not Fonda.

I would rate this film very high in terms of ranking Hitchcock films, and still can't believe it's taken me this long to see it. I'm very glad I chose this one, and if you haven't seen it, you should make it your next Hitchcock to watch.