Every genius has their doubters — Hitchcock (2012)
As a movie lover who regularly rents movies online with Google PlayStore or Apple Movies as well as a resident who lives in, well, politically, China, I’m constantly asked this question, “Why should you have to pay to watch movies (when you can watch them for free online)?” The answer to this question is simple. Apart from the morally tiresome reason that ‘We should respect copyrights and the production’s efforts.’ (Duh!), I also find that by actually paying to watch a movie, I take in more from a movie because I become more attentive while watching it (Obviously the Law of Demand is at work here: The more a person pays for a product, the more a person values it as reflected by the fact that he’s willing to pay for it); the fact that there’s a 30-day time limit to consumption (I must watch a movie within 30 days after I’ve rented it) also forces me to set aside time for movie nights and embark on a much-needed art detox session from work).
Anyway, let’s talk about this movie, Hitchcock, released in 2012. For some reason I didn’t have high expectations for it — perhaps it’s because of the relatively low scores it got on Rotten Tomatoes? Perhaps it’s because of its so-plain-it’s-bland and eponymous title? Perhaps it’s because I assumed, myself being someone who has watched most of Alfred Hitchcock’s famous works, written reviews on them after doing quite a lot of research, that I knew much about the Master of Suspense’s life?
The movie is, to say the least, a pleasant surprise. Not only did Anthony Hopkins did (Silence of the Lambs, Two Popes, watching which on Netflix recently had me once again marvelling in awe at his brilliance) a more than decent impression of the Master of Suspense himself. Helen Mirren also gave a rock-solid and respectable performance as Alma, Hitch’s wife and equally talented writer as well as director who, when need be, stepped in for her husband. Bernard Hermann, who composed the spine-chilling score to both Psycho and Vertigo, was also seen. Hitchcock’s obsession with blonds, his ‘fantasy romances’ and control-freakish (and some would say patriarchal) manipulation over his female leads as well as his idiosyncratic love for making cameo-appearances in his films were also portrayed. Obviously, either the director and the writer are ardent fans who are eager to pay tribute, or they have done their research. Simply put, this film is a heart-warming feast for anyone who has had a fond encounter with the Master of Suspense’s works. As someone who self-identifies as a creative, I know that there’s nothing like effective collaboration that makes good art. And for me, there’s really nothing more inspirational to see how a master auteur like Hitchcock and his crew work together to actually produce a film.
Even though this film is about the making of Psycho, it spoils very little for people who haven’t yet had the privilege to see it. Plus, there’s an interesting take on Alma and Hitch’s relationship. While many commentators seem to be saying that it is the film has put its focus wrongly on the dynamics between the two. I do think its the subtle tension between them that’s constantly holding my attention. Things get even more interesting when you consider the fact that their relationship is both marital (and thus supposedly romantic, despite the celibacy) and business in nature as they are business and creative partners. At times, their interactions seem like an intellectual tango between two artists who are on par in terms of artistic ingeniousness. (In this sense, the film is, of course, also a feminist’s triumph.) At times, it seems like a domestic tug of war between a watchful wife who nags her partner into healthy eating and a stubborn husband who is reluctant to obey. Their relationship is intriguing and suspenseful. On one hand, Alma obviously isn’t enjoying the sexlessness and being under-appreciated for the sacrifices she has made for her husband’s career;
‘Well, I suppose he’s like any great artist. Impossible to live with, but worth the effort.’ — Whitfield Cook on Alfred Hitchcock
On the other, Hitchcock is feeling increasingly helpless as well as suspicious that his wife, who is still quite attractive for her age, might be straying into an affair with her fellow writer. One cannot help wondering at what point Hitch would, like his characters, react to betrayal with homicidal rage.
Sure, there’re the corny parts of the film. Towards the end, the film definitely verged to that side of things, but I do feel that as Alfred and Alma are a couple I root for, I buy into it anyway.
It also doesn’t hurt that the movie makes us feel for Hitchcock, who doesn’t only show himself as vulnerable to betrayal, human and fallible as a husband and a director;
‘Why are you spending all the hours of day
and night with that
talentless mummy’s boy?’ — Alfred to Alma, in jealousy, referring to Whitfield Cook
but has also made an unfair amount of effort trying to convince movie studios like Paramount and MGM that his works actually do not contain as much nudity and violence as they seemed to think. One gets a feel of how much, in those days, censorship used to play into rendering so many films, which could otherwise seen daylight and been brilliant, in Hitchcock’’s words, ‘stillborn’ or miscarried. And it’s kind of a relief to see that even such masters of the art as Hitchcock would have to be doubted by movie studio executives, who had little artistic vision and a discorporate hunger for profits and aversion to risks. One can only imagine how he could have convinced them into investing in his productions. It must have taken so much self-confidence, guts and business acumen.
Many parts of the movie also fondly remind me of the brilliant series, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, which, by the way, was once called one of the best 100 TV Shows of all time by TIME.