Discontented by remakes and the overall current state of cinema, I’m relieved to know that I can still turn to a diminutive number of laudable havens. The auteur I’m currently referring to made it his indelible mission to create voyeurs out of all those who possess eyes, forcing us to hawkishly view things we’ve never been allowed to, things we should perhaps not view.
But this is of course where the fun comes in.
I know I’m not alone in holding Alfred Hitchcock and his prolific body of work in high regard. Few directors have managed to alter not only the art of movie making but the movie going experience, and all for the better.
Famously credited as “The Master of Suspense,” Hitchcock knew how to jar audiences and how to honor moviegoers with a promise of horror, action, intrigue, romance, and adventure—all while creating a compelling and original story (hardly a minor feat). Many have tackled Hitchcock’s work and buried it knee deep in criticism and analysis as they have Shakespeare’s prose and poetry, and I don’t feel it’s necessary for me to add myself to this list.
Rather, I’ll take this time to be self-indulgent and highlight five of my favorite Hitchcock films. I want to make it clear that these “Top Five Hitchcock Films” are only my opinion and hardly a permanent stamp or declaration to be imposed on others.
Feel free to share your favorite Hitchcock films and be sure to take note of his memorable works that I’ve managed to overlook: Rear Window, Notorious, The Birds, The Man Who Knew Too Much, To Catch a Thief, Suspicion, Marnie, Spellbound, and North by Northwest.
Vertigo (1958)
Out of all of Hitchcock’s films, Vertigo is my favorite. I feel Vertigo is Hitchcock’s most personal project. Hitchcock was notorious (no pun intended) for molding his icy blonde leads (Grace Kelly, Tippi Hedren, Kim Novak) into his stringent ideal of perfection, and Vertigo beautifully explores that. James Stewart plays Scottie Ferguson, a San Francisco policeman who suffers from vertigo. When hired by an old friend to investigate the man’s troubled wife (she is believed to be possessed by an ancestor), things begin to get interesting. As Ferguson continues to investigate the wife, Madeleine (played by Kim Novak), he becomes troublingly engrossed with her, believing that she is in fact possessed. Scottie’s love for Madeleine grows in intensity, and when he encounters a “new” love interest after Madeleine’s passing, he can only impel her to take on the persona of his previous love. As more twists and turns are unveiled, the story only becomes more and more intriguing and unforgettable. Bernard Hermann’s score is appropriately haunting, and the film is famous for Hitchcock’s creation of the important dolly out, zoom in shot (a brilliant method of manifesting Scottie’s vertigo on screen).
Psycho (1960)
I truly admire Psycho because of how Hitchcock manages to beguile the audience. This is a horror film that knocks off the main character, Marion Crane as played by Janet Leigh, within the beginnings of the film. As a result, we end up clinging to other characters, like Marion’s sister Lila, and of course Norman/Norma Bates. The film follows Marion as she steals a large sum of money from her work and is forced to take refuge at the Bates Motel for the night. She briefly becomes acquainted with motel owner Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) and even decides to battle the consequences of her thievery by returning to work the following day. But before Marion can even get through a shower, Norman Bates’s mother pays her a visit that quickly ends her stay. Even though Psycho is based on the same character as The Texas Chainsaw Massacre films, that being serial killer Ed Gein, Hitchcock’s remarkable ability and willingness to tinker with audience expectations still manages to set his work apart, even by today’s horror standards.
Rebecca (1940)
Daphne Du Maurier is one of my favorite writers, and Hitchcock was no stranger to adapting her material to screen. Rebecca is by many standards a woman’s picture, and mainly because of the material Hitchcock selected to labor with in this case. Joan Fontaine plays the meek and docile second Mrs. De Winter. She falls head over heels for Laurence Olivier’s Maxim De Winter, and the two are quickly wed. Mrs. De Winter seems quite out of her element when she moves into the massive Manderley, and is surrounded by more servants than she can count. She is not simply overwhelmed by her surroundings; she also has Maxim’s first wife to worry about: the now deceased Rebecca. What I most adore about this film is that a character who never even appears on screen holds all the cards and even orchestrates the entire plot. Rebecca exists only in name and luxurious items, from fancy stationery to wardrobes brimming with the finest silks, but her presence proves to be much heavier. Until the second Mrs. De Winter takes charge, Rebecca will always reign supreme.
Strangers on a Train (1951)
Hitchcock cleverly knew how to create and portray a villain, which brings me to my favorite part about Strangers: Bruno Antony as played by Robert Walker. Tennis player Guy Haines (played by Farley Granger) and Bruno Antony meet on a train. We are meant to understand that these characters could not be more different from personality to shoe style. The two begin conversing, revealing the troubles that plague each of their lives. Antony takes these conversations to a dark edge, suggesting that he will murder Haines’s wife if Haines will in turn murder his father. Unsurprisingly, this plan does not sit well with Haines. But, as deliciously evil as Antony is, he goes through with killing Haines’s wife, putting Haines in quite the predicament. There are a number of memorable scenes throughout the film, courtesy of stunning black and white cinematography by Robert Burks: the murder of Haines’s wife as shot through her glasses and Antony’s very obvious presence at one of Haines’s tennis matches.
Shadow of a Doubt (1943)
Another worthy villain to conclude the list is Uncle Charlie as adeptly played by Joseph Cotten. As revealed early on, Uncle Charlie is the “Merry Widow” strangler. After murdering his latest unsuspecting victim, Charlie decides to visit his sister in Santa Rosa, California. His sister’s family adores and idolizes Charlie, especially his niece (Teresa Wright), who also goes by the name of Charlie. Both Charlies are a lot alike, as is revealed by Hitchcock’s mise-en-scene, but it doesn’t take long for young Charlie to begin to unravel the dark coils of Uncle Charlie’s psychotic inclinations. What is done masterfully here is allowing the viewer to know from the start what kind of man Uncle Charlie is; we’ve seen his ruthless evil firsthand and know exactly what he’s capable of. His ability to so seamlessly morph into a kind, family man and prey on an innocent household makes his presence all the more terrifying. More than any other character in the film, we are able to learn much about Uncle Charlie by delving deeply into his thoughts and behaviors, gaining a unique inside look at a serial killer. Though this territory is usually prohibited, Hitchcock not only brings it to the forefront, but doesn’t allow us to look away.