Hitch's Birds: Happy Birthday Hitchcock

Today is Alfred Hitchcock's birthday and what better way to celebrate the master's 110th than through his women? His wounded, weird, gorgeous, sexually strange but extraordinarily erotic women -- femmes who'd drive most of us to a state of amour fou. And Hitchcock understood such mad love. He also, despite some claims to the contrary, understood women, or rather, a certain kind of woman. Hitchcock, whom people love to apply the actors as cattle quote ad nauseam, saw something deeply disturbed inside womankind --especially blonde womankind. He understood their perfected calculations, their sexual mystery, their age-old competitions, and their alternately reserved and hysterical glamour and power.

Though I could point out numerous Hitchcock films (Janet Leigh in Psycho for one), three stick out: Vertigo, The Birds and Marnie. All reveal the director's predilection for leaving his heroines vulnerable to danger, dementia and doom. In these films, we can see Hitchcock's bent, or as Camille Paglia states in her excellent assessment of The Birds, his "perverse ode to woman's sexual glamour...in all its seductive phases, from brittle artifice to melting vulnerability."

Who more perfect to represent Paglia's declaration than Kim Novak, who gave the best performance of her life in Vertigo, and Tippi Hedren, a woman whose career seems to have revolved around Hitchcock's? The luminous Grace Kelly may be considered the quintessential Hitchcock blonde goddess but she's not as cinematically artistic as Novak or Hedren. She is a supreme Hitchock heroine for certain -- an assured actress with mathematically perfect features, a patrician on the outside and a sexual animal underneath, Kelly's not a simplistic princess. But Kelly is interesting because she's too perfect (James Stewart's complaint in Rear Window and why Sinatra fell for her in High Society). And with that, she never touched the wounded, transgressive eroticism of Hedren or Novak. Part of that could lie in Hitchcock himself -- he never tortured her. The more neurotic Hedren and Novak appeared in his pictures (and Hedren was a particularly bizarre interest for the director), the more responsive they seemed to the darker situations their auteur placed them in.

Hitchcock explored truly disturbed female protagonists in his early films, but none matched the wrenching melancholy displayed by Kim Novak in Vertigo. While Stewart was lauded for his flawless performance as the detective who becomes morbidly obsessed with resurrecting the image of his dead lover, Novak unjustly received criticism (at the time) for her uncomfortable portrayal of that lover. She presented a woman whose beauty bequeathed her a power she was ultimately unable to control, making Novak's Madeleine/Judy both wise and naive, hard and soft. Novak revealed the sadness that lurked beneath the smiling facades of bombshells like Marilyn Monroe or Rita Hayworth, by allowing that nervousness to bubble to the surface. It's all in the way she holds herself, talks or furtively moves her eyes. It's as if her mind seems ill-suited for her body, unhealthy almost, making her something of a sexual contradiction. It’s not merely that underneath the classy, gray-suited, sternly coiffed Madeline there's an even bustier, tight-sweatered and common Judy -- it’s that she, like the picture itself, embodies the irrationality of desire.

Like Novak, Tippi Hedren was criticized for her performances in The Birds and Marnie. But time has proven them to be close to or perhaps just as brilliant and challenging as Novak's in Vertigo. The Birds is a movie of endless complexities--all helped, not hindered, by a terrific performance from Hedren. Hedren's Melanie Daniels, an independent rich girl in pursuit of Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor) meets all sorts of problems when she journeys to Bodega Bay, including resentment from every other female character (though there's a strong homoerotic undercurrent in her dealings with Suzanne Pleshette).

But what makes the film so intriguing is that it's not just the millions of bloodthirsty birds messing with poor Melanie, it's the gals as well. Watching the weird interplay between Hedren and Mitch's mother (a wonderfully terse Jessica Tandy) brings up all kinds of strange scenarios -- is the mother just being overprotective, or is she a little too caring about her son? Why does she dislike her so much? Indeed, why does every woman in Bodega Bay seem to hate Melanie Daniels? In one of the film’s most telling scenes, a frightened mother blames the bird invasion on Melanie, screaming at her “I think you’re evil! Evil!”

Though a "carefree" playgirl, Melanie is truly a tightly wound bird herself. Her biggest challenge is handling the numerous flocks (human and otherwise) inhabiting the town. Mothers, sisters, earthy women, common townsfolk and birds crack Melanie's pristine exterior of white gloves, mint-green suits and matching handbags. And by the end, those suits and gloves are torn to bits. It’s not just birds against man, its birds against birds (the female variety) and if they’re flocking together, something is deeply, deeply wrong.

In the psycho-sexual thriller Marnie (a film I've seen over 30 times -- which makes me wonder about myself), Hedren's traumatized woman and criminal past leads her into the imprisoning, Freudian arms of Mark Rutland (Sean Connery). Hedren again plays an independent spirit of sorts, albeit an icy, frigid and mentally traumatized one. She can't stand the color red, she has an unusually strong bond with her horse (but then, what women doesn't?) and she loves her cold, flinty mother to the point of masochism. She's clearly never had a normal sexual encounter and though she shows flickers of attraction and flirtation, she appears to hate men. Or maybe just all of humanity.

But the movie expresses sympathy towards Marnie making it hard to blame the woman for her antisocial tendencies. In her experience, men (people) are beasts who've only done her harm (flashback to a very young Bruce Dern freaking out a very young Marnie). In return she violates them by lying, cheating and stealing without ever giving them the full pleasure of her lovely body. If Connery is going to have her, he must break her, via marriage, psychoanalysis and what can only be described as... force.

Like Novak's Madeleine/Judy in Vertigo, Marnie is a magnet for freaky men. And yet, in spite of her pathological frigidity, there's a feeling that somewhere, a ravenous woman could emerge oozing the kind of kinky sexuality that Judy displays in Vertigo. And yet, through Hitchcock's subversive eyes (and our own), this unhealthy, yet accurate depiction of sexual madness becomes strangely, intensely romantic. Quite clearly Hitchcock, like Woody Allen (as he professed in Husbands and Wives) not so secretly loved his women a little crazy. And really, don't we all?

 

Comments

[Reno Sepulveda]

Yes we do.

[erica david]

Vertigo and Marnie always seemed like the weird Hitchcocks to me and now (old) I find I like them much more. Probably because of exactly the weirdness you're talking about. How strange it never struck me till now that Tippi named her daughter Melanie! Also makes me think of the stories of real life tortures endured by the leading ladies during production, beyond just warding off advances. A more obscure one is how all the snooty English actors ostracized poor Joan Fontaine on Rebecca and wouldn't let her in their reindeer games and wouldn't come to her birthday party. Very Mean Girls versus the obvious violence of being pecked at by birds.

[George Schmidt]

I love VERTIGO; my fave Hitch flick & your namesake so delivers the silky/sad goods; Stewart is excellent as well in a towering performance of confliction.
I haven't seen MARNIE yet - in my DVR queue!

[Mark Malevani]

It's always annoyed me whenever I've heard people say that Kim Novak plays a "dual" role. The key to understanding and ultimately enjoying "Vertigo" is that she is ALWAYS Judy. It's fun to pick out which scenes she's Judy acting as "Madeleine," and when it's actually Judy. The first viewing of the film we're with Jimmy Stewart following "Madeleine," all subsequent viewings we're with Judy leading J.S. on. Loved the article, Kim! HAPPY BIRTHDAY HITCH!

[Warts and all]

I actually saw Marnie based off the mention of it in your article on The Piano Teacher (a film that I will probably only see again when I feel timing is right, because thats how I react to a certain grand breed of cinematic impacts on my senses) So to gather your 30+ viewings of Marnie, I guess you make a personal connection in some way. It must be difficult to not further dissect with each viewing and/or pick up on something new that you don't automatically fit within your sculptured form of it, altering the experience to nurture your own viewpoint. I wont go into the blatant faults of Marnie (who cares, right?) because it has its own power beyond all the extra baggage (which I would image would make multiple viewings more interesting). There's the Gilliam quote from an interview that "No masterpiece is without its faults"
But I wanted to say after my initial view, how sexed/threatening/and powerful and exotic Sean Connery's character seemed to me..maybe just the baby James Bond beginning, bleeding over. And the inclusion of the peeping, doting girlfriend to do what? Be a Midge. Was that her name from Vertigo? and the mother of Marnie.
All the characters surrounding her are like a trap she has found herself in. The fox hunt, escape, killing the horse - come to mind.
The man is the threat whether its the perfected winner Connery/Bond or the fall from grace/obsessive/frantic Jimmie Stewert. Both become fierce in the necessity with uncovering the hidden within the mystery of their desire. What they cant have and why not.
The Novack/Hedren blondes are cursed with the bait of their disguise.
That's a tricky thing to say, right?
Also the power of their fears are really manifested outside whatever psychological murkiness.
I mean, that's not all of it. It's multi layered, but this is just a simple comment by somebody somewhere.
Now I am thinking of telekinesis in pre-teen and teen girls.

[Warts and all]

"And yet, in spite of her pathological frigidity, there's a feeling that somewhere, a ravenous woman could emerge oozing the kind of kinky sexuality"

oh thats it!

[Steve-O]

I watched Marnie over and over again on video when I first got into Hitchcock. The movie backdrops are wonderfully fake looking, Connery wears a very Bond-like gray suit that he wore in Goldfinger, and "Spinster's Tea." That's the only mention I've ever heard of the drink - tea with a splash of rum.

I'm in the minority but I pefer Marnie over The Birds.

[Larry Gross]

Dear Kim:
It was great meeting you today and fun sharing thoughts/opinions.
The high esteem in which you hold Vertigo and Marnie is of course totally correct.
I just wonder though, whether accounting for this topic can afford missing mention of Teresa Wright in Shadow of a Doubt,
and Ingrid Bergman in Notorious. Hitchcock plain old seems to like the characters these two women play, there's a tenderness toward them that may not be the MOST interesting attitude in the H. ouevre but it deepens our sense of him. In Teresa Wright's case she's such an archetypical but authentic "all American girl next door" that you feel Hitchcock actually expressing tenderness toward America itself with her. And Ingrid Bergman in Notorious is the one sexually voracious female in Hitchcock's pantheon that he really seems to side with...the scene in the wince cellar in Notorious where Bergman must "pretend" to kiss Grant, when in fact she WANTS to kiss him more than take her next breath, is a moment of ironic but powerful sexual passionateness equal to anything in Ophuls or Mizogouchi.

Anyway, keep up the good work,

best,
Larry Gross
breathinc@mac.com

[don r. lewis]

Interesting readings of the films, Kim...but I feel this comment: "It's all in the way she holds herself, talks or furtively moves her eyes. It's as if her mind seems ill-suited for her body, unhealthy almost, making her something of a sexual contradiction." might be giving too much of a read into something that's fairly surface.

As Mark pointed out above, Novak is ALWAYS Judy so her furtive eyes and discomfort come from the fact she's dually lying in the film. First, pretending to be Madeleine and later, pretending to NOT be Madeleine.

I also wish I shared your idea that Hitchcock loved women in his own way when I think the opposite is true. I've always considered "The Birds" to be Hitchcock's screed against the burgeoning rise of femininity in the 1960's.

For a man scared to death of women, feminism must have been terrifying to him.

Melanie's independent woman seeking to threaten the bizarre familial relationship the Brenners share is when the birds attack so I think that's one of several key things to look at when discussing what Hitch is getting at.

In any case, Happy belated bday to the master of suspense (no, not you Quentin). I'll take a 20 minute drive out to Bodega Bay this weekend in honor of you, sir.