Relationship Advice from Alfred Hitchcock - The Birds

This is the conclusion to this series:
Part 1 - Rear Window
Part 2 - Vertigo
Part 3 - The Birds

The movie The Birds (1963) presents, what in many ways is typical of a great Hitchcock film, a brilliant relationship study set against a backdrop of extraordinary, horrific, and deadly events. The film begins with Melanie Daniels in a pet shop. This starts with a short game of foiled deception with Mitch, centering on the topic of lovebirds and thus immediately suggesting the the subtext of a possible love relationship. During this encounter, they are held in frame together through a series of over-the-shoulder reverses that immediately begin to create a sense of connection. Finally, with the escape of a canary, which Mitch catches and then refers to as Melanie Daniels as he returns it to its cage, the relational subtext is fully confirmed. In the final verbal confrontation in this sequence, Mitch's shot also contains Melanie, signaling his desire and intent to catch her. The reverse of Melanie frames her alone, suggesting her freedom and authentic outrage at Mitch.

This defeat leads to Melanie attempting to pull one over on him by bringing him the two love birds he claimed he wanted. Thus, in the world of the film, their relationship is sealed. Melanie drives up to find Mitch in Bodega and tracks down Annie Hayworth to confirm Mitch's sister's name for whom the birds are for. Annie appears in a red sweater, already marked for death, and is helpful if perhaps aloof and judicious. Melanie enters into the Brenner house successfully, delivering the surprise love birds. This intrusion foreshadows the birds' later invasions of the house. Melanie escapes back across the bay and as she approaches the dock, and is greeted by Mitch, who has raced around the bay to meet her, a sea gull swoops down hitting her head. This is the first of the mysterious and terrifying bird attacks. While no direct explanation is given, at this point it appears to be a manifestation of Annie Hayworth's conscious or subconscious jealousy. The gift of the love bird, which is tantamount to a relational proposal, is an explicit intrusion and cannot be tolerated. However, it may be in response to the both physical and relational invasion of the Brenner house. Mitch then questions her presence and accuses her of liking him. She feigns to have disinterest and the pretext of having been old college friends with Annie and coming up for a visit with her. It is at this moment that Mitch's mother enters. Perhaps to increase the Oedipal tension, she looks strikingly like an older version of Melanie. The rest of the conversation that occurs with Mitch is framed with his mother and Melanie framed alone with occasional reverses to Mrs. Brenner, spelling out visually for the audience exactly what the relational dynamics are. The blocking of the scene before dinner with Mrs. Brenner on the telephone is also masterful. While Mitch and Melanie are able to share the background space briefly, when they finally settle into the room, Melanie sits on one the couch framed to the left of Mrs. Brenner and Mitch stands by the fireplace to the right. Mrs. Brenner stand talking on the telephone in the foreground as a wall between them. However, before the phone call is over, Mitch moves across the room again and, sitting down, is now framed with Melanie.

Mrs. Brenner is Mitch's domineering mother, a figure not uncommon to Hitchcock films. Most notably, Psycho (1960) alludes to this sort of figure, as well as Marnie and Notorious, both to a lesser degree. Slajov Zizek argues that the birds represent a foreign dimension that literally tears apart reality. In this sense, he suggests that they are manifestations of the the mother' raw, incestuous energy attempting to prevent the sexual relationship between her son and Melanie.1 It should be noted that throughout, Melanie is wearing a green skirt suit, highlighting her positively. In contrast, Mrs. Brenner's bedroom is that repeated yellow. This seems to signal the aggressive subtext of jealousy, mistrust, and aggression below the relatively benign conversation, which sends Melanie off to the school where she encounters a large group of crows, aptly named a murder of crows.

Within the film itself, it is suggested that the birds are a plague and a sign of the apocalypse. Furthermore, P. Adams Sitney has noted that the names Melanie (in Greek) and Daniels (in Hebrew) have the combined meaning “the blackness of God's judgment.” 2 The birds provide a terrifying sense of “The Other” ominously watching, often from above, referencing again the theme of voyeurism. Thus, the trademark high angle anxiety shot, which are used to spectacular effect in this film find their fulfillment in The Birds. Hitchcock's Catholicism obviously allows for the possibility for this to be interpreted as God. During the attack in the town, people identify the attacks as beginning with Melanie and thus accuse her effectively of being Jonah. However, Hitchcock has clearly taken pains to identify Melanie with the birds, beginning with the opening scene and including a reference to her breaking a window, which the birds then do in the movie. Thus we must understand the birds as generally manifesting in physical symbolism, the destruction of reality that Melanie represents for Mrs. Brenner as well as Mrs. Brenner's response. The echoes of Psycho support this dual representation, as the stuffed birds in Norman's office represent both his mother, whom he has killed and effectively stuffed, as well as the aptly named Miss Crane, whom he is about to kill and whom he compares to a bird. The final moments of horror in The Birds are those of Melanie again entering the mother's bedroom, only to find it filled with birds. What follows is best described as a crucifixion scene as Melanie receives innumerable wounds as well as the distinct emphasis on the piercing of her outstretched hand. She appears to die due to these attacks. However, Mitch and his mother rescue her and she is revived. Whether it is that God is satisfied with Melanie's sacrifice, or nearly the dead girl snaps the mother's super ego out of its jealous rage, Melanie is finally allowed to be integrated into the family as is noted by the shared hand squeeze with Mrs. Brenner, shown in a close cut in, before they all drive off to the hospital. Mrs. Brenner has come to accept that she is not going to be abandoned and embraces Melanie as a new daughter, being able also to be the mother that Melanie never had. As the new family escapes taking along the love birds that started it all, Mitch and Melanie's love and fidelity throughout the film is highlighted. Thus with relationships established and resolved, there is a happy ending that was not possible in Vertigo, or Psycho.

Hitchcock placed a great deal of priority on relational dynamics in his films. By examining his body of work, we see clearly that people cannot succeed or, at least not well, on their own. The trap of independence is one that men are particularly susceptible to as is clearly shown in Vertigo and also addressed in Rear Window. It is the strong, independent women such as Midge, Lisa, and Melanie that Hitchcock truly honours, perhaps because this is how he viewed his wife and the amazing partnership they shared in their work. Ultimately, it is the truth of these relationships that allow us to weather life's storms. Hitchcock reminds us that life is short and fleeting, with death lurking in every corner and on the end of every telephone call. However, it is precisely our insecurity which must energize us to commit deeply to that love relationship now, rather than waiting for the perfectly “compatible” person or for financial circumstances to create a false sense of security (a la Psycho). It is the outrageous grace of the love relationship in Spellbound (1945) that vindicates an innocent man and convicts the guilty. If only more characters were so faithful, perhaps less people would wind up in the awful predicaments they do. However, our voyeuristic appetites and creativity would be sadly disappointed by such a turn of events.

1Sophie Fiennes, The Pervert’s Guide to Cinema, Documentary, 2009.

2Kent Jones et al., The Hidden God, First Edition. (The Museum of Modern Art, New York, 2003), 249.

Relationship Advice from Alfred Hitchcock - Vertigo

Again it is probably sensible to have watched at least Vertigo before reading this analysis...

Part 1 - Rear Window
Part 2 - Vertigo
Part 3 - The Birds

Vertigo examines relationships in a much more complicated sense, both directly and indirectly, as seen in Rear Window. Also similarly to Rear Window, the protagonist, Scottie, is an injured man, whose cane suggests the subtext of impotence. He is introduced with the female counterpart, Midge, in the second scene. However, it becomes clear that despite the clear sexual potential and also history to the relationship, it is, at present, an arrangement of convenient companionship rather than faithful partnership. Hitchcock keeps the two framed separately for almost the entire scene, except for a brief moment when Scottie pokes a bra on Midge's desk with his cane – one that she is designing advertising for. Midge's desire for a relationship is made clear by her comment that there is only man for her, indicating Scottie. Midges distress regarding their relationship is highlighted in Hitchcock's typical high angle shot, indicating the anxiety of the person or situation, and cued by Scottie's comment, “We were engaged once. Weren't we?” This trademark high angle anxiety shot is found in Hitchcock's films as far back as The Lodger (1927). In fact, much of “Hitch”'s visual brilliance as well as his innovation was born out of the fact that his career was developed in the era of silent film making, forcing him to learn to tell the story primarily visually and value this ability of cinema. According to Hitchcock, this sense of visual cinema was mostly lost with advent of sound to, “photographs of people talking,” and effectively transformed cinema into theatre.1

Thus Vertigo begins with what ought to be a relationship but isn't spelling disastrous results from the very outset. Scottie becomes involved in an investigation regarding a college friend's wife, Madeleine, after rescuing her from San Francisco Bay in what appeared to be an attempted suicide. Hitchcock now show us in reverse the couple that ought not to be. Scottie sits on the couch in a green sweater framed by red curtains signaling a sense of stage. Green used here echoes the green used to highlight Madeleine in her debut at the restaurant. The fact that Scottie is now in green framed by the red curtains suggests both that this scene is the reverse of the other in that this is when Madeleine first sees Scottie. However, it also serves to indicate Madeleine's psychological possession of Scottie. Green is often used by Hitchcock as a colour to indicate something positive. It is with subtle reinforcement such as colour that the audience is aided in liking and identifying with Scottie and Madeleine as well as warned of their fate. The camera pans and dollies across the room revealing Madeliene's clothes hanging across Scottie's cane in the kitchen and Madeleine, now understood to be naked, through a doorway in a bed. Scottie gets up and walk toward the bedroom, stopping and staring at the woman across the threshold. A telephone call draws him into the room. Telephones are a common device used by Hitchcock across a number of his movies. The telephone represents, in a very real way, an intrusion into one's life or equally significant, a manner in which to intrude on others. In this way, the telephone is often used to underscore the insecurity of our lives, perhaps hinting at the fact that death could call at any time2.

Madeleine's bare shoulders further add eroticism into the situation as she hides herself under a yellow blanket. Yellow has only been seen significantly in Midge's apartment, thus there is the subtext of Madeleine being where Midge ought to be. Yellow is also usually an aggressive colour in Hitchcock films, as most clearly displayed in Marnie(1964). Mark Rutland, while on his and Marnie's honeymoon, clothed in a housecoat of an identical yellow, is frustrated by Marnie's pathological inability to consummate their marriage. He and Marnie, who is clothed in a green dressing gown, have a strained conversation in the front room after which he storms after her into the bedroom becoming verbally aggressive and tears her nightgown off, in the most sexually violent moment of the film, an act which he immediately regrets and apologizes for. Thus we should be alerted and concerned by the yellow colour of the blanket, which also confirms the violation already suggested by the drying clothes. Furthermore, when Madeleine enters the front room in a red dressing gown, it echos the red restaurant in which Scottie first saw her, highlighting the passion he feels for her but also marking her for death. Again, going back to Marnie  and her pathological fear of red because of its psychological connection to murder, is key here. Also the red carpet in Frenzy (1972), running down the stairwell of Rusk's apartment, is significant. It is seen just after he and Babs enter to, what the audience is certain via a dialogue cue, will be her doom. The slow camera moves away from the closed door and down the stairwell, highlighting the red carpet, suggesting a waterfall of blood, and serving to underline the audience's horrified awareness of the present rape and murder in a long string of rapes and murders that have taken place in the room above. Vertigo's use of colour remains consistent within this framework and thus Scottie's presentation of two yellow pillows for Madeleine should be understood to maintain the subtext regarding Midge as well as perhaps foreshadowing his responsibility for Madeleine's death. In the course of Vertigo we discover that Madeleine is not actually Madeleine but rather Judy, an aid in a deception so as to make the murder of the real Madeleine, by her husband, look like a suicide.

The death of Madeleine at the Mission, in spite of Scottie's futile attempt to cure her psychosis, plunges him into a catatonic state. It is in the hospital that we have one of the final moments for redemption slip away as Midge is unable to coax him out, acknowledges his ongoing love for Madeleine, and leaves the hospital. She is unable to save Scottie in the way that Lisa is able to save Jeffries in Rear Window. Her exit of the hospital marks her last appearance of the film. When he emerges from the hospital he is alone, a point consistently emphasized by the camera framing throughout the film. He blunders once again down the trail of his torrid affair with Madeleine only to discover Judy, in front of the flower shop, wearing a green outfit, matching that of the flower shop's cart and definitively drawing the connection between her and Madeleine.

Scottie discovers Judy by accident and is unaware of the truth and sets about recreating her into Madeleine. The final moment where their doom is sealed is Judy's renewed resolve to restart their relationship in reversed deception in order to make their love true, in contrast to her initial intention to reveal the truth. There is significant echoes between this process of transformation and that which occurs in Rebecca (1940) and Scottie's makeover of Judy – both explore the desire for transformative deception in a lover. In Rebecca, it is the perception that transformation is desired that is, in reality, false. Whereas, in Vertigo, the desire is real and instead it is the unanticipated truth of the deception which reveals its own horror. Furthermore, what in Rebecca is more or less dressing up, Vertigo reverses into a slow erotic undressing.3 The scene after Scottie and Judy first have dinner, when Scottie proposes another meeting as he drops her off in her apartment, demonstrates further Hitchcock's genius at being able to tell the story through image. The scene is lit in low key and Judy disappears into the shadows early in the scene. Scottie stands lit, proposing a 'non sexual' relationship to her dark, haunting silhouette, as he lusts with necrophilia for the ghost she reminds him of. She remains hidden in the shadows of her own secrecy and love for Scottie. She, Judy, loves Scottie, but Scottie loves the non-existent shadow called Madeleine, whom Judy pretended to be. This division of person is perfectly captured in the shot of Judy sitting looking out the window away from Scottie, her face cut perfectly in half by shadow. Scottie sees her only in shadow but longs for greenish lit side of her which evokes Madeleine. When, later, Judy exits from the green light fully reversed back into Madeleine she stands finally naked before Scottie for his necrophilliac fantasy.

The film concludes with the horrifying repetition of the earlier death scene. Scottie has once again transformed Judy into Madeleine and Madeleine will once again fall to her death, only this time Scottie, in the midst of the madness of his psychotic obsession, has become Gavin Elstor. Scottie, while not wanting to be alone and lamenting his availability in the opening scene, is also unable to admit dependance or need for a woman. Because of this, he is blind to Midge's consistent assistance, clarity and love, unable to stand her independence, he instead drowns in his own obsessive desire for the illusion of love, power, and control presented to him in Madeleine. An illusion, which when revealed, results in a fit of erotic rivalry4, ultimately causing Judy's death, albeit indirectly. Interestingly, this theme of illusion, deception and artifice, while worked out most often in relationships, has also a definitive reflexive nature that casts judgment on both the desire to and watching of films as well as the creation of them.

It is this exploration of the desire to be deceived that I continue to find most haunting. In what ways do I reject reality around me and pursue illusion and delusion toward my own and others destruction? In what ways do I construct those around me into false personae, related to my own neurosis? In what ways do I allow myself to be constructed by the neurotic fantasies of others?

1François Truffaut, Hitchcock, Rev. ed., 1st Touchstone ed. (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1985), 61.
2Dial M for Murder
3Truffaut, Hitchcock, 244.
4Jones et al., The Hidden God, 256.

Relationship Advice from Alfred Hitchcock - Rear Window

The following posts were taken from a film paper I wrote this past semester. Fortunately or unfortunately, you may find yourself needing to watch a bunch of Alfred Hitchcock movies... which I am suggesting will be not only enjoyable but good for you.


Part 1 - Rear Window
Part 2 - Vertigo
Part 3 - The Birds

Hitchcock specialized in high-anxiety thrillers and suspense-laden plots that strung the audience along on a tight rope. In the course of his oeuvre as a director, he developed a number of distinctive techniques, and explored a small number of particular themes repeatedly in his work. Crime, espionage and theatre are the common backdrops for Hitchcock to work out his thoughts on deception and artifice, both our propensity for it and its destructive power. Death lurks in every corner of the world according to Hitchcock and is unlikely to be avoided alone. It is this treatment of relationships, particularly sexual relationships, juxtaposed and intertwined into the plots, crimes and crisis of the various films, that universalize Hitchcock's films and provide perhaps his most poignant commentary on the human condition. 

Right from the beginning of his career, marital relationships were prominent in his work beginning with his first break finishing the two reeler Always Tell Your Wife (1923) and his full directorial debut The Pleasure Garden (1925). The themes of marriage, sex, infidelity and a murder, in particular of a spouse, are already present and will recur in numerous of his subsequent films. In fact, the murder of a spouse occurs, is attempted, or is otherwise referenced in a shocking number of Hitchcock's films. While perhaps contributing to the accusations of misogyny, this ultimate violent betrayals fits into Hitchcock's oeuvre on a number of fronts. Marriage, like all relationships, is open to deception and artifice. Furthermore, marriage is intended to be a life long loving and committed relationship, the epitome of safety and support. Thus it is not surprising at all that Hitchcock exposes us to the devastating violence and horror that is possible in our closest relationships - reminding us, as always, that we are never safe and secure. Three films which capture some of the breadth of Hitchcock's address of relationships are Rear Window (1954), Vertigo (1958) and The Birds (1963).

Rear Window is one film in which the setting is confined exclusively or primarily to a single location. James Stewart stars as L.B Jeffries along side Grace Kelly (his girfriend Lisa), as an impotant photographer confined to a wheelchair in his apartment due to a broken leg and reticence to get married. His impotence is most notably signified by the enormous and phallic lens on the camera he uses to spy on his neighbours. An impassioned speech made by Jeff's nurse, Stella, early in the movie presents the 'Hitchcockian' expectations regarding appropriate relational behaviour: “When a man and a woman see each other and like each other, they ought to come together, wham!- like a couple of taxis on Broadway - and not sit around analyzing each other like two specimens in a bottle.” Hitchcock's positive view of this statement can be seen in the positive outcomes of the relationships in his film that manage to follow this advice. The 39 Steps (1935) is a similar an example to Rear Window in a number of respects. Both films center around a relationship that has been added to the original story by Hitchcock. Furthermore, both films require the resolution of some initial relational conflict in order for the other external plotlines to resolve well. The lead male character would have been quite incapable of success without the assistance of his female partner. Grace Kelly makes this point explicit in the final scene of To Catch a Thief (1955) saying, “ Were you afraid to admit you just can't do everything by yourself? You needed the help of a good woman. You aren't the lone wolf you think you are.” To which Cary Grant responds affirmatively. In The 39 Steps, Hitchcock literally insists on the relationship, having the two handcuffed together and holding them in frame as a couple for three full scenes forcing them to learn to live together. Rebecca is a lovely example of this plot idea of a couple liking each other and then coming together and getting married rather quickly ultimately being a positive way to enter relationships. In contrast, the relational premise of Psycho is exactly the opposite.

Rear Window makes a full treatment on the topic of voyeurism, along with its relationship to film. Rather than handcuffs, it is Jeffries' broken leg which confines him to his apartment. He, however, transfers this sense of confinement onto his relationship with Lisa, which he suggests is incompatible with his adventuresome photography. Grace Kelly is treated with some of the most beautiful film ever created, brilliantly undermined by the foreboding shadow she casts over James Stewart as she leans in for a kiss. An axis jump to a slow motion shot of the kiss disorient and overwhelm the audience in such a way as to draw them into the kiss. The axis jump provides that element of surprise and spontaneity that is important in great kisses and romance. Holding the couple closely in frame, we are informed of the goodness of their intimacy regardless of Jeffries' earlier evaluation regarding their compatibility. The treatment of this kiss further underlines the importance of this relationship to a happy ending. Jeffries' final question, “Who are you?” breaks their intimacy and frames the relational question of the film. To the audience's relief, Lisa is not to be deterred by Jeffries' analysis regarding their compatibility. She returns as seductress and accomplice, entering into his current adventure even more deeply than he is able, becoming the subject of his voyeurism and successfully regaining his affection.

Even the neighbourhood, which becomes Jeffries' soap opera, is a study of relationships. There are the newlyweds who are continuously having sex, the ballet dancer being hounded by men, the suicidal Miss. Lonleyhearts, the childless couple with the dog, the man who murders his wife, and the musician. How does one move from the lustful, infatuated fidelity of the newlyweds to the unfaithful, murderous action of a criminal? Hitchcock's placement of these couples close together and in the apartment block around Jeffries highlight his own relational dilemma regarding marriage and both its potential joys and horror. I think it is important that he and Lisa address this horror together and conquer it, in a sense, despite it coming very close to killing both of them. They are however, ultimately, successful in their adventure and reinvested into their relationship.

The film successfully raises a number of unnerving questions below concrete realities of the plot such as, “Are you being watched?” but even more disconcerting for an audience is the implication also of being discovered as a voyeur and the potential consequences of what one sees. The film very distinctly reminds the audience that death and violence can invade your own backyard and even your home. We are safe only insofar as our relationships of love and trust are real. If, however, our marriage is filled with deception, as is the case in Notorious (1946), one is not unlikely to wind up murdered or dead, as in the film Rebecca (1940).

I found myself recently reflecting that Jeffries strong sense of calling and identity as a photographer, which prompts his hesitancy in relationship is distinctly reminiscent of Kierkegaard. Kierkegaard breaks off his engagement to a woman he loves, Regine Olsen, near the beginning of his career to pursue his sense of call. This decision, which may be celebrated as a tremendous self sacrifice for the sake of calling, he later reflects on in Fear and Trembling, where he celebrates most highly "the knight of faith," who is able to suspend the ethical by virtue of the absurd and thus both marry the princess and pursue his holy calling or at least somehow believe both to be possible despite full acknowledgement and resignation to their impossibility. Kierkegaard clearly presents this awesome picture of faith in contrast to his vision of himself as the "Knight of self resignation" who sacrifices himself for the greater good. Thus I suggest that Kierkegaard effectively presents great relationships must be characterized by faith, in that they must contain both resignation to the impossibility of their success and simultaneously belief in their possibility. This is the contradiction and paradox of faith. In Rear Window Jeffries is the "knight of infinite resignation" however Lisa is able to, after resignation, make the move of faith and thus the relationship, by virtue of faith succeeds. The dangerous possibility of entering or being in a relationship with neither self sacrificing resignation or faith yields results, both exceedingly common such as divorce or as depicted by Hitchcock in the film Dial M for Murder (1954), which centres around the murder of spouse. Thus by Hitchcock we are constantly reminded both of the danger of life and in particular relationships, while simultaneously being encouraged to be in them and having them presented to us as our only hope and the necessary path of salvation.