Hitchcock (2012)
– One of our finest actors portrays one of the greatest directors of all time,
yet somehow the results leave something to be desired. Sacha Gervasi’s directorial debut follows the
corpulent Alfred Hitchcock (Anthony Hopkins) during the making of his
ostensible masterpiece, Psycho. It sounds like a recipe for success, but
something’s missing; my vote is that, engaging though they all are, there are
far too many subplots going on in the film.
We’ve got Helen Mirren doing fab work as Alma Reville, but it’s a
performance dulled by a lifeless tease of adulteries (Danny Huston, usually
equally compelling, is uninteresting here).
The bits where Hitch hallucinates encounters with Ed Gein are wacky in a
Tim Burton kind of way, but these scenes are mere sidebars to other
narratives. And the making of Psycho itself, which was the major draw
for me, gets short shrift – a shame, since it’s Hitch/Hopkins at his liveliest,
and we have solid turns from Scarlett Johansson and James D’Arcy (as Janet
Leigh and an uncanny doppelganger of Anthony Perkins, respectively). On top of all that, though Hopkins is divine
as always, his own star power sometimes overshadows the role, so it’s difficult
to see him just at surface level; his Hitch voice is killer and his mannerisms
accurate, but Hopkins still bleeds through.
All told, there’s nothing wrong with the movie, but it teases so
many fascinating movies within itself that nothing feels fully fleshed
out. If nothing else, you’ll be itching
to rewatch Psycho when all’s said and
done.
Psycho (1960) – What
do you say about a movie which the universe has already agreed is a landmark
classic? Alfred Hitchcock, the
undisputed master of suspense, directs the hell out of Robert Bloch’s pulpy
novel about the shady Bates Motel and its troubled proprietor Norman Bates
(Anthony Perkins), burdened with his own unique brand of mother issues when
Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) arrives with a bundle of stolen cash. Though it’s part of the air we breathe, the
rest is criminal to spoil just in case, and I can only say that what
Hitch does with the material is nothing short of golden. He’s helped by a more than able score by the
legendary Bernard Herrmann, who crafts no less than three unforgettable themes
for the film (including those unmistakable violin screeches); indeed,
Herrmann’s compositions are almost characters in themselves, governing the mood
almost as much as Hitch’s own deliberate direction. But oh, those directorial decisions: the black and white, the montage
(Eisenstein’s idea of montage as violence never felt so appropriate), the
angles, the shadows, even the color of Janet Leigh’s underwear – all are the
marks of an obsessive genius lending all his skill to a real project of
passion. Each visual is a treat unto
itself, the shots of Norman’s taxidermy lending a beautiful horror to his calm
conversation. And from an industry
standpoint, much about the film is delightfully innovative, making twist endings
and arriving on time part of the moviegoing lexicon. In short, it’s not crazy to love Psycho.That does it for this week’s edition of “Monday at the Movies.” We’ll see you here on Friday for the Double-Oh-Seventh of the month!
