Re: Track the Films You Watch (2008)
1/22/08
The Birds (1963) Dir: Alfred Hitchcock
“It’s the end of the world!” And so it may very well be in Hitchcock’s fable apparently about man and nature’s capriciousness.
A couple of recent items in the news led me to this viewing of
The Birds. One was the recent passing of Suzanne Pleshette. Not that I was a particular fan of hers. Her television work was before my time and the only other film of hers I’d seen was
The Shaggy D.A. The second item was more disturbing than the movie. Speculation has it that in the Michael Bay-produced upcoming remake of the film, the birds will be given a motivation for their attack: global warming. Talk about missing the point. So I sought solace with the classic original.
The plot is simple enough. In the midst of the boy-meets-girl story, a horde of birds gathers and invades the town of Bodega Bay. There is no explanation for the attacks and we watch to see if Melanie Daniels (Tippy Hedren), the ‘girl’, Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor), the ‘boy’, his mother, Lydia (Jessica Tandy) and sister, Cathy (Veronica Cartwright) can make it out alive. And what of Ms. Pleshette? She plays Annie, the schoolteacher. It’s a small but important role in the story. Through her we get the background on Mitch and Lydia. Annie and Mitch once had a relationship that ended because of Lydia’s controlling nature. Annie is bitter and regretful, but also resigned, though definitely still holding a torch for Mitch. Pleshette is good, she makes it matter when we learn of her eventual fate.
Perhaps my favorite scene is the one in the diner, after the attack at the school. It serves as a brief respite for the film in that it comes after an attack and precedes an attack. There are even some moments of levity. We’re introduced to the characters populating the diner, like the verse-spouting drunk, the doubting ornithologist, Mrs. Bundy, the increasingly hysterical woman with her two scared small children and Mr. Sholes, the fisherman (Charles McGraw). Then another attack begins and all hell breaks loose in the town. There’s the Eisenstein-esque shot of Melanie tracking the flame along the gasoline as it’s about to blow up. More mayhem outside, including a magnificent process shot, this of the bird’s eye view of the town being mucked up, as more and more birds enter the frame. Then back into the diner where everyone is cowered in a hallway, even Mrs. Bundy. Marvelous.
The ending is mostly seen, I guess, as ambiguous. Is the car attacked when they round that last bend? Possibly, but I believe they get away regardless. I see plenty of signs of optimism. For example, all the damaged relationships have been repaired. There’s Mitch and Melanie (they’ve moved beyond the preconceptions they first had about each other), Mitch and Lydia (she’s no longer unnaturally possessive of him/substituting him for her husband), and Melanie and Lydia (their closeness gives Melanie the mother figure she wants and relieves Lydia of her fear of abandonment). The mere presence of the lovebirds at the end is also a clear optimistic sign.
The Birds is a technical marvel. The mixture of live birds, puppets and some animatronics is virtually seamless. The bird-wrangling is certainly impressive, with live birds pulling off some purposeful dive bombing (the man at the gas station, the children fleeing the schoolhouse). Hitchcock also made the decision to have an electronic soundtrack of just bird noises, which creates a disorienting effect and keeps the viewer on edge. There are some famous shots, like the last one, which utilizes some 30 or so pieces of film in an elaborate process shot. Think the film is a bit influential? At about the 1 hour 44 minute mark (the bird attack on the Brenner house) there is a low angle shot of Lydia’s face, shooting into the ceiling with the shadows from the lit fireplace dancing all over the room. She looks around as she hears the birds somewhere in the house. Then we pan out and track back as Melanie enters the left foreground, followed by Mitch, and then stop with all three in the frame, looking around. It’s a shot that’s been ‘homaged’ over and over again. You see it, you’ll recognize it right away.
Needless to say, a must-see for anyone interested in classic cinema (I gather most people knock this one out rather early in their explorations).




out of 4
1/23/08
Phantom Lady (1944) Dir: Robert Siodmak
Scott Henderson (Alan Curtis), following a nasty fight and split with his wife, looks to drown his sorrows at the local watering hole. There he spies a woman in a similar emotional state and, looking for some companionship, asks her to a show at a club to get both their minds off their problems. She agrees, but only on the condition that they keep their names to themselves. Sure enough, when Scott gets home he finds the police there, waiting to question him. His wife’s been murdered. Where were you at 8 o’clock this evening, asks Inspector Burgess (Thomas Gomez)? But Scott has an alibi, right? Only he doesn’t know the woman’s name. And the bartender remembers Scott but not the woman. Neither does the cab driver. Nor the drummer (Elisha Cook Jr.) at the club. Even the dancer at the club, who Scott clearly caught looking at the woman (they were both wearing the same hat), won't acknowledge there was someone with him. Something is going on, but whatever it is Scott is helpless to defend himself at a trial and is sentenced to death for his wife’s murder (on the flimsiest ‘evidence’ in Hollywood judicial history). It’s left to his loyal secretary, ‘Kansas’ (Ella Raines), who’s later joined by a sympathetic Inspector Burgess, to find out the real killer before Scott is executed.
Phantom Lady is built on themes that recur, almost compulsively, in Woolrich’s work. For example, the schizophrenic antagonist is also seen in
Black Angel and
The Leopard Man. Additionally, there is the character who becomes mentally unhinged by the death of a sweetheart or spouse as found in
Rendezvous in Black and
The Bride Wore Black. It can leave a viewer feeling like he’s treading on well worn ground. But in the right hands, the feverish plots, sorry dialogue, the narrative inconsistencies, all are beside the point. Fortunately,
Phantom Lady was being guided by sound hands.
This is Siodmak’s first noir. He would go on to distinguish himself as one of the, if not
the, preeminent practitioners of the style (
The Killers,
Criss Cross). Here he is fortuitously paired with cinematographer Woody Bredell (they would be reunited on
Christmas Holiday and
The Killers). There is some great storytelling done in the camera. In one shot, the deteriorating mental state of a character is shown as he sits in front of a 3-way mirror, suggesting multiple personalities. The same character, who is an artist, has Van Gogh’s self portrait with the bandaged ear hanging on the wall in his apartment. But what Siodmak and Bredell are really doing in
Phantom Lady is practically creating the mise-en-scène blueprint for noir. Released very early in 1944, it’s all here; the wet pavement, the bags of atmosphere and dread, the sharply contrasting b&w, the wildly expressionistic versions of reality (when Kansas visits Scott in prison), the discordant shafts of light, etc. It is a terrific picture to look at.
Franchot Tone aside, the cast, as well as the subject matter and relative inexperience of the director (and presumably, the budget), suggests ‘B’ movie ambitions. I thought Tone was a little hammy. Alan Curtis (
High Sierra) is not up to much, and actually comes off pretty weak in a few scenes. Ella Raines is mostly good (and quite beautiful). Her ‘sex scene’ with Elisha Cook Jr. is so deliriously perverse it has to be seen to be believed. A real highlight. Another standout scene is when Kansas goes after the bartender to question him. It amounts to a chase scene, as she relentlessly dogs him through the streets, with a stop at a subway station. Some real good tension in there.
One of the indisputable pillars of film noir, well deserving of a DVD release.



out of 4