One Fan's List of the Best Hitchcock Films

On September 5, 2009 at 4:56 p.m., I published my first post for the Classic Film & TV Cafe. Suffice to say, there was a lot I didn't know about blogging. But here I am, 968 posts and ten years later, and I must say that I've had a wonderful time writing and managing the Classic Film & TV Cafe. To commemorate  the last decade, I thought it'd be fun to update my first post about my picks for Alfred Hitchcock's ten best films. To my surprise, other than re-ranking two films, I made few changes. Please note that there are spoilers in my write-ups!

1. Vertigo - This richly-layered masterpiece reveals its big twist when least expected--turning the film on its proverbial head. It causes love to blur with obsession and greed to give way to guilt and perhaps love. What we see at the bell tower is initially false, but ultimately true. I could go on and on…but, hey, whole books have been devoted to this film. I think it’s Hitch’s best job of writing (as usual uncredited) and directing…plus we get superb performances (especially from James Stewart), a marvelous San Francisco setting, an unforgettably disturbing score from Bernard Hermann, and a nifty Saul Bass title sequence.

2. Rear Window – My wife would rate this as No. 1, but she’s not writing this post! As with Vertigo, there are multiple layers to Rear Window. Taken alone, there’s nothing interesting about the mystery of the missing salesman’s wife. The movie is really about the relationship between Jeff and Lisa. Though she is rich, beautiful, and loves him (Stella describes her as “perfect”), Jeff refuses to commit to Lisa. He fears that doing so will cause him to sacrifice his exciting, globetrotting life as a magazine photographer. It is only when Lisa becomes his “legs” and joins in the investigation of the missing wife that Jeff realizes how bright and exciting she truly is. It’s part of the film’s offbeat humor, because, to the viewer, Grace Kelly's Lisa looks stunning and exciting from the moment she walks into Jeff’s apartment. To provide contrast to Jeff and Lisa’s evolving relationship, Hitchcock lets us spy—with Jeff—on his neighbors in the apartment complex. Their stories are effective mini-dramas that are funny, sad, and murderous: Miss Lonelyhearts (that’s what Jeff calls her) dresses up and sets a table nightly for an imaginary date; Miss Torso practices dancing routines in her underwear, but rejects all suitors when she throws a party (later we learn why); the composer struggles to finish his compositions at the piano in his studio apartment; and an older couple, with their little dog, sleep on the balcony because the nights are so warm. Technically, the film is one of Hitch’s finest achievements. Almost every shot is from the viewpoint of Jeff’s apartment, an amazing feat but also one that’s not distracting (unlike the ten-minute takes in Hitchcock’s Rope). Even the stagy sets work to the film’s advantage, for the apartment complex seems like its own artificial world.

3. Marnie – When I first saw Marnie as a teenager, it made no impression at all. I thought Tippi Hedren was miscast and Sean Connery dull. The plot--what there was of one--seemed thin and the characters lacked interest. Decades later, I watched it again and, to my complete surprise, I loved it! Tippi Hedren's subtle detached performance made Marnie a vulnerable, intriguing character. The progressively complex relationship between Marnie and Sean Connery’s character generated suspense--in its own quiet way--worthy of Hitch’s best man-on-the-run films. I was captivated by Hitch's finest use of color (especially during the opening scenes). And finally, there was Bernard Herrmann's incredible score (which, for me, ranks second only to Vertigo among his Hitchcock soundtracks). I've often wondered how I missed all of this the first time around?

4. The Birds – This one functions on two levels for me. It is, of course, a masterfully directed thriller about unexplained bird attacks in a small California seaside community (I love the playground and gas station sequences). But it’s also a well-acted 1960s relationship drama about three women and their interactions with the bland, but likable, Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor). Mitch’s mother (wonderfully played by Jessica Tandy) fears losing her son to another woman—not because of jealousy, but because she can’t stand the thought of being abandoned. Young socialite Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedren) views Mitch as a stable love interest, something she needs as she strives to live a more meaningful life. And Annie Hayworth (Suzanne Pleshette) is the spinster schoolteacher, willing to waste her life to be near Mitch after failing to pry him from his mother. These relationships are what the film is about—the birds are merely catalysts. That’s why the ending works for me; when the relationships are resolved, the bird attacks end.

5. Strangers on a Train – One of the cleverest (and most disturbing) premises of all Hitchcock films. The carousel climax is justly famous, but I favor the cigarette lighter in the drain. It’s a perfect example of how Hitch could generate suspense from a simple situation—with potentially disastrous consequences. I think Farley Granger and Robert Walker are pretty good in the leads, but not as strong as other Hitchcock stars.

6. Shadow of a Doubt – It took this one awhile to grow on me, but that makes sense in hindsight. Shadow of a Doubt is all about gradual realization. Charlie (Teresa Wright) slowly evolves from disbeliever (those accusations toward her beloved uncle could not be true!) to one who suspects the truth to believer to would-be victim. It’s a chilling tale, all the more so because it’s set against the backdrop of a friendly Thorton Wilder town.

7. North by Northwest – I think of this as something of a lark for all involved, but that’s partially why it’s so much fun. It’s my favorite of Hitch’s man-on-the-run films and James Mason, who plays the villain straight, is the perfect foil for Cary Grant. I only wish the Mount Rushmore scenes looked a little more realistic and Roger’s mother had more scenes.

8. Psycho – It’s hard to gauge the impact of Psycho now, but I can remember how shocked I was when I first saw it. I knew Janet Leigh was a major actress and so I was more than a little shocked to see what happened to her character of Marion Crane. (By the way, I was equally shocked when Arbogast was killed…filmed from that disorienting overhead camera angle). It’s really a fine film--more than a shocker--and also offers good performances, great Hermann music, and (once again) memorable Saul Bass titles. And I guess that shower scene turned out to be a little influential.

9. Rebecca - It’s too bad that David Selznick and Hitchcock didn’t get along better, because this collaboration is an excellent, atmospheric adaptation of Daphne Du Maurier’s novel. I love how the cheeriness of the opening scenes between the future Mrs. De Winter and Maxim contrast with the later scenes at Manderley. The cast is pitch perfect with Judith Anderson and George Sanders standing out in supporting roles. Like many people, my favorite scene is when Mrs. Danvers suggests that maybe the second Mrs. De Winters should just end it all.

10. Young and Innocent and Stage Fright (tie) – I am now officially in trouble with fans of Notorious, The 39 Steps, The Lady Vanishes, and Frenzy. Those are all fine films and I would list them in my top 20. But I must confess that I enjoy the two listed in my #10 spot more than those movies. The seldom-shown Young and Innocent is a fine early man-on-the-run film with sweet performances and its share of great scenes (e.g., carving meat at the dinner table, the great tracking shot leading to the killer’s twitching eye). As for Stage Fright, I’ll say upfront that the controversial flashback doesn’t bother me at all; I don’t understand the big fuss. Stage Fright makes this list on the basis of sheer fun and a delightful cast (Jane Wyman, Marlene Dietrich, Richard Todd, Alastair Sim, Sybil Thorndike, and Michael Wilding at his most charming). I saw it late among Hitch’s films and I never fail to be entertained when I watch it again.

Honorable Mentions: Those mentioned in No. 10 that will get me in trouble for omitting…plus To Catch a Thief, Secret Agent, Blackmail, the underappreciated I Confess, and Sabotage (with the controversial bomb scene).

The Birds--A Matter of Misdirection

Alfred Hitchcock’s most divisive thriller finds the Master of Suspense in magician mode. On the surface, The Birds is a traditionally-structured horror film, in which the bird attacks build progressively to three of Hitchcock’s most intense sequences. However, this is just Hitchcock performing a little playful sleight of hand with the audience. Our feathered friends play a strictly peripheral part in moving the plot along. In actuality, The Birds is a relationship movie about another memorable Hitchcock mother, her adult son, and the women who threaten to come between the two—a theme explored by Hitchcock earlier in Notorious and Psycho.

In The Birds, the son is the bland, but likable, Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor). Mitch’s mother (wonderfully played by Jessica Tandy) fears losing her son to another woman—not because of jealousy, but because she can’t stand the thought of being abandoned. Young socialite Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedren) views Mitch as a stable love interest, something she needs as she strives to live a more meaningful life. And Annie Hayworth (Suzanne Pleshette) is the spinster schoolteacher, willing to waste her life to be near Mitch after failing to pry him from his mother.

Mitch's mother places herself between the lovebirds,
turning her back to ignore Melanie.

These characters come together when Melanie follows Mitch to his home in Bodega Bay after a flirtatious exchange in a pet store. Melanie’s arrival coincides with the beginning of the bird attacks. It’s almost as if the birds arrive to prevent any potential love between Mitch and Melanie, perhaps an extension of Mitch’s mother’s anger at having to defeat another rival for her son’s love. (Taken to the extreme, there could a parallel between the birds and the creature created by Morbius in Forbidden Planet).

However, although the birds initially come between Mitch and Melanie, they eventually have a very different impact. They allow Melanie, who first appears spoiled and shallow, to show her courage and vulnerability. In the end, Mitch’s mother no longer sees Melanie as a threat, but as a woman worthy of her son. Once the friction between those two characters is resolved, the bird attacks stop and the movie ends. Hitchcock’s conclusion—often criticized as ambiguous—is perfectly logical.

Hitchcock goes to great lengths to misdirect his audience by disguising The Birds as a conventional thriller. Always concerned with audience expectations, the Master of Suspense told French director/film critic Francois Truffaut in Hitchcock, a brilliant collection of interviews: “I didn’t want the public to become too impatient about the birds, because that would distract them from the personal story….” For that reason, the first bird attack comes at twenty-five minutes into the film and occurs toward the end of a playful scene in which Melanie races her boat while Mitch drives along the lake road trying to beat her to the dock.


Mitch, with all the women in his life, looks
concerned after the birthday party bird attack.

From that point on, the birds become progres-sively more menacing and their appear-ances more frequent: Mitch sees them on the power lines after Melanie visits for dinner; a bird crashes into Annie’s front door and dies; birds swoop down to break up a children’s birthday party; they fly through the open flue into Mitch’s house; and Mitch’s mother finds the first human victim in a farmhouse. (I love how Hitchcock uses broken teacups in this scene to foreshadow the impending horror. Earlier, he shows Mitch’s mom picking up broken teacups after the birds-in-the-flue incident. Then, when she visits the apparently empty farmhouse, she sees broken teacups hanging on their hooks—just before discovering the bloody, eyeless body.)

Melanie trapped in the phone booth, a metaphor for
her previously sheltered, empty life.

The remainder of the film consists of the three major set pieces: the bird attack outside the school-house; the attack after the gas station blows up; and Melanie’s struggle with the birds in the attic. Again, following the classic horror film structure, Hitchcock separates each sequence with a transition scene that allows the audience to relax and catch its breath. The scene in the restaurant with the ornithologist is one of Hitch’s rare missteps in The Birds; as Truffaut points out, it goes on too long without contributing to the narrative structure. I won’t dissect the birds’ attack on the school children—it’s an iconic sequence—but I strongly recommend that Hitchcock fans seek out Dan Auiler’s Hitchcock’s Notebooks, which includes the director’s hand-drawn storyboard and notes.

Though less famous, the burning gas station sequence is no less impressive. In the midst of the terrifying chaos, Hitchcock shows Melanie protected—and trapped—inside a phone booth. This “glass cage” is a marvelous metaphor for her previously sheltered life (also symbolized by the lovebirds in the birdcage) from which she is rescued by Mitch (literally…when he pulls her from the phone booth).

The three years between Psycho and The Birds (1963) comprised the longest gap between Hitchcock films up to that point. Much of that time was spent dealing with the technical difficulties in bringing Daphne du Maurier’s short story to the screen. In Truffaut’s book, Hitchcock admits that he discovered narrative weakness in The Birds as he was shooting it. A compulsive pre-planner, who storyboarded every shot in every film, Hitchcock began to improvise during the shooting of The Birds: “The emotional siege I went through served to bring out an additional creative sense in me.”

That creative genius is captured for all to see in The Birds. From its use of bird sounds in lieu of music to its disturbing closing shot, The Birds is an atypical Hitchcock film which finds the director in a mischievous mood. He gives us a classic chiller, but then reveals that it’s all wrapping paper and that’s what inside is a relationship drama. It’s an unexpected gift and, hey, Hitchcock even includes a birthday party for us—although it’s disrupted by those darn birds!

There's nothing ambigious about the ending--the real
conflict has been resolved.

Veronica Cartwright Talks with the Café about Hitchcock, Alien, and the Beaver

With a resume that includes Leave It to Beaver, The Birds, Alien, and The X Files, Veronica Cartwright has fashioned a lengthy, impressive acting career showcasing her versatility. She made her film debut at age 9 as Robert Wagner’s sister in 1958’s In Love and War. Ms Cartwright may have been the busiest child actor of the 1960s. On the big screen, she co-starred in The Children’s Hour, The Birds, and Spencer’s Mountain. On television, she appeared on four episodes of Leave It to Beaver (three times as Violet Rutherford) and she played Jemima Boone, Fess Parker’s daughter, on Daniel Boone. She also guest-starred in Alfred Hitchcock Presents, The Twilight Zone, Route 66, and other classic TV series. Unlike many child actors, she made an easy transition to adult roles, giving memorable performances in Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Alien, The Right Stuff, and The Witches of Eastwick. Ms. Cartwright was nominated for an Emmy for Best Outstanding Guest Actress in a Drama Series for three consecutive years (twice for The X Files and once for ER). Earlier in her career, she won a regional Emmy for Best Actress in a Television Movie for Tell Me Not in Mournful Numbers. She is still in high demand in both movies and television, having recently appeared in Revenge, Grey’s Anatomy, and the Lifetime movie Non-Stop.

Café:  As a young actor, you appeared in films directed by William Wyler (The Children's Hour) and Alfred Hitchcock (The Birds). How did these great directors from Hollywood's Golden Age approach working with their actors?

With Tippi Hedren in The Birds.

Veronica Cartwright:  William Wyler had a very unconventional approach, especially working with children. I was auditioning for the role Mary and he shot off a gun to see my reaction. I ended up getting the part of Rosalie. There were some very emotional scenes and he would have me do them and really get there and then he would start shooting it. Alfred Hitchcock was always lovely. He just told us what he wanted and he always treated me like a colleague. He saw me in The Children’s Hour and then requested to meet me. I went to his bungalow on the Universal Studios lot and he told me his favorite wine cellar was in Bristol, which is where I was born, and then proceeded to tell me the names of wines. At 12 years old, I didn't need that information, but I wish I could remember the names now. He also told me how to cook a steak, which I would need to know when I got married, and I have since tried and it works. He was a riot and he just sat and talked to me. He just made me feel comfortable and I could ask him any questions I wanted about the production, the fake birds, etc.

Café:  You appeared in three of the most intense (and famous) scenes in The Birds: the attack at the school; the birthday party; and the birds swooping down the chimney. Which was the most demanding for you as an actress and why?

VC:  I didn't like those birds swooping down from the chimney. There were thousands of them. We were in a bubble and they would just swoop down and go to fly up and then realize there was nowhere to go. Then, they just dropped. That one was the most challenging because it was so confining.

Veronica as Violet Rutherford.

Café:  Having also appeared on other family sitcoms, such as Family Affair and My Three Sons, why do you think Leave It to Beaver has maintained its enduring popularity? And what was it like to play Violet Rutherford as an adult in 1985 on The New Leave It to Beaver?

VC:  I think just everybody could identify with the Beaver and his older brother. It was a clean, family show. I gave Beaver his first kiss at 9 years old. In the 1985 version, they intercut it with the kissing episode. In the movie, Violet poses as a real estate woman who has a side business of being a dominatrix. It was very funny.

Café:  Daniel Boone fans have long wondered why Jemima Boone, Daniel’s daughter, didn’t appear in any episodes after the second season. Was that the producers’ decisions (perhaps to trim costs) or did you want to pursue other acting opportunities?

VC:  I got to a certain point and they were giving me opportunities to be more of a romantic lead and have more mature story lines with such actors as Fabian. The actress playing my mother didn't care for that, so she wouldn't sign her contract if they brought me back. She felt that it aged her.

Café:  How did you come to be cast as Lambert in Alien?

Veronica as Lambert in Alien.

VC:  I auditioned for the character of Ripley and then I happened to be going to Europe, so I checked with my agent to see if the part had been cast yet. I thought being British it could be to my advantage for them to see me again, so I auditioned when I got to London. I got cast and I thought I got cast as Ripley. It wasn’t until I was contacted by wardrobe to be fitted for my space suit that I found out I was Lambert. She ultimately turned out to be the only sensible one.

Café:  Alien and Invasion of the Body Snatchers are two very different science fiction films. While both generate plenty of suspense, Alien depends, in large part, on a monster created by special effects. The most frightening aspect of Body Snatchers is its theme. Which kind of movie presents the biggest challenge to an actress? And which do you think is more terrifying?

VC:  Actually, there was no CGI (Computer-Generated Imagery). The Alien was a man from the Masai tribe who was over seven feet tall. They built the suit to fit him. He could only move very slowly and took mime lessons and tai chi. In a sense, Body Snatchers is more psychological. The scary thing about Body Snatchers was the aspect of living in a grey area and not feeling love or hate. There was always the prospect that if you fell asleep you could wake up and be a zombie. Alien was more like a Hitchcock film where your mind was doing more of the scaring because you would just see glimpses as an audience member until the Alien stepped out. They were both equally challenging for different reasons. I guess Alien was more terrifying because of the monster, but then again the other one is a creepy concept to think of.

As Cassandra Spender, with Fox Mulder
in the background.

Café:  On several episodes of The X Files, you played Cassandra Spender, an alien abductee who was the ex-wife of The Cigarette Smoking Man and mother of Agent Jeffrey Spender. How would you describe your X Files experiences?

VC:  Well, the first two episodes were shot in Canada. My character is wheelchair bound and we discover she has a chip in the back of her neck like Scully. I had been abducted and by the end of the second episode I was abducted again. When I came back I was now able to walk. My take on what happened was that since I knew so much about the aliens, I had become one of them. It was really fun. Chris Carter directed one of my episodes.

Veronica in Goin' South, directed by
Jack Nicholson.

Café:  You’ve worked with a number of famous directors: Hitchcock, Wyler, Ridley Scott, Philip Kaufman, and even Jack Nicholson. Who is your favorite director and why?

VC:  They are all great for their own reasons. I've done three movies with Phil. He knows you’ve done your homework and he trusts you to make a well rounded character. Jack is just nuts. He’s great. It’s like one big giant party. Ridley has a terrific eye for detail. And I already talked about my experiences with Hitchcock and Wyler.

Café:  You and your sister Angela appeared together in a 1960 episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents (“The Swartz-Metteaklume Method”) and you were a guest star on Make Room for Daddy. Were there ever any plans to make a movie starring the Cartwright sisters? (Perhaps a science fiction film for fans of Alien and Lost in Space?)

VC:  Well, at one point, Angela and I decided to get together with Tony Dow and a bunch of other actors like Billy Mumy, Billy Grey, Johnny Crawford and several others to make a space movie, but it never got off the ground.

Café:  Are you working on any projects now that you’d like to share with your fans?

VC:  Yes!  I’m on Resurrection, the ABC show, at 10 P.M. on Sundays starting March 9th. My character’s name is Helen Edgerton. Also, I am in the motion picture The Town that Dreaded Sundown. It is a remake of the 1976 movie of the same name and will be released by Sony in September.


You can learn more about Veronica Cartwright at her web site: www.veronica-cartwright.com. You can also follow her on Twitter at https://twitter.com/veesland.

My 100 Favorite Films: From 50 to 41

This month, the second half of the countdown begins as we work our way to No. 1. As a reminder, these films are not what I'd consider the best 100 movies ever made (though some are). These films are simply one classic fan's favorites. (An underlined title means there's a hyperlink to a full review at the Cafe.)

Twins meet for the first time...at a summer camp.

50. The Parent Trap - Following the delightful Pollyanna, Hayley Mills and writer-director David Swift teamed up again for The Parent Trap, Disney’s best live-action comedy. The gimmick of having Hayley play twins was achieved through the then-innovative use of traveling mattes and split screens. It works amazingly well—and Hayley is great—but the film’s enduring appeal has nothing to do with its clever special effects. The Parent Trap retains its popularity because of its ability to function as a smart, romantic comedy (for adults) and an enjoyable children’s film (in which the teen protagonists outwit their elders). The film’s breezy nature and charm mask two major flaws in its premise. First, how could any parents be so cruel as to separate twin sisters—and never even tell them about one another? Secondly, it’s obvious that the parents are still very much in love, so why did they split up in the first place? Since any answers would be unsatisfactory, writer-director Swift wisely chooses to ignore them altogether!

Mail-order bride Eleanor Parker.

49. The Naked Jungle – It’s easy to remember this well-written character study for its lively climax involving billions of soldier ants (a local commissioner notes that the ant column is “twenty miles long and two wide, forty miles of agonizing death—you can't stop it”). However, when viewed in the context of the entire film, the ant attack constitutes a subplot which serves the purpose of bringing together two lonely people (Charlton Heston and Eleanor Parker) on a South American plantation. In that sense, The Naked Jungle is no more about ants than The Birds was about birds. In both films, an “attack by nature” is used to resolve a conflict between two characters.

48. The Last Man on Earth - This first adaptation of Richard Matheson’s terrifying 1954 novel I Am Legend—about a single human in a world inhabited by vampires—was made in Italy on a shoestring budget. Vincent Price is the only English-language actor in the cast. But, despite its financial limitations, it remains an impressive work filled with compelling images. The scenes of the vampires pounding nightly on Price’s door foreshadow similar images in the better-known Night of the Living Dead (1968). There are also some genuinely frightening sequences, such as the one where Price’s character falls asleep in a church, only to awake at sunset and struggle to reach the safety of his fortress home. For a movie that doesn’t even rate as a cult film in most reference books, it’s amazing how many of my movie buff friends remember it as fondly as I do.

Cushing made a fine Holmes.

47. The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959) Throughout the late 1960s and early 1970s, I tried in vain in see the Basil Rathbone version of The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939). Every time it was listed in the newspaper, I’d tune in eagerly—only to see Hammer Films’ 1959 version starring Peter Cushing. I later learned that copyright issues prevented the Rathbone film from airing for many years. When it finally popped up on TV (on The CBS Late Movie, of all places), I was somewhat disappointed. Though Basil was entertaining as always, his Hound was surprisingly inferior to the 1959 version. Indeed, the Hammer Hound has improved with age, like a fine wine or, more appropriately, a glass of sherry (the vicar in the film has a fondness for it). Cushing makes a superb Holmes, all nervous energy as if his brain can barely contain his superior intellect. His interpretation is every bit as good as Basil Rathbone’s more acclaimed one. Andre Morrell‘s Watson is one of the screen’s best--intelligent, affable, and observant, very much like the character in Conan Doyle’s works.

46. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof – The most popular criticism of films adapted from stage plays is that the director fails to “open them up”—to transform them from theatrical productions to motion pictures. That always amuses me, for if a film is well-directed and performed, I don’t care if it all takes place in one room (which 12 Angry Men basically does and it’s a favorite, too). Richard Brooks’ adaptation of Tennessee Williams’ hit stage play is a perfect convergence of great acting and a director comfortable with enhancing, but not overpowering strong source material. Burl Ives recreates his masterful Broadway portrait as Big Daddy and Elizabeth Taylor gives what I consider to be her best performance. Williams purists quibble that some of the play’s content is watered down, but the result is still a first-rate film about (as Big Daddy would say) mendacity.

Cary in Baby.

45. Bringing Up Baby/Holiday – Yes, I know I’m cheating again by listing two films in one slot. But, to my defense, these two films are essentially bookends with Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn swapping roles in each. In Holiday, Cary Grant is the free spirit and Kate the more uptight of the two and in Bringing Up Baby, they switch roles with Cary as a conservative paleontologist and Kate as a wacky heiress. In both movies, the stars exhibit tremendous chemistry (surprisingly, I’m not nearly as fond of their pairing in Philadelphia Story). I’m not surprised that Bringing Up Baby is better-known than Holiday; the former film is loaded with inspired screwball situations. Still, Holiday is a very engaging film that’s funny and romantic but (in its own way) more serious and heartfelt.

44. Spartacus – Stanley Kubrick’s most atypical film is my favorite among his works. He masterfully interweaves strong character relationships with spectacle to create an action film that resonates on a deep emotional level. The justly famous “I am Spartacus” scene as well as the closing one between Jean Simmons and Kirk Douglas still carry a tremendous impact after repeated viewings. Interestingly, Kubrick said in a 1968 interview that Spartacus was the only one of his films he didn’t like. Certainly, he had less control over it, but I believe that working within the confines of a “Hollywood production” brought out the best in Kubrick and the result is an epic for the ages.

Mifune as a helpful samurai.

43. Sanjuro - This was my first foreign film, my first samurai film, and my first Kurosawa film. When I watched in it on PBS in the early 1970s, I’m not sure if I even knew who Akira Kurosawa was (but suspect I soon learned). I found Sanjuro charming, intriguing, and mesmerizing. Each time I watch it again, I’m reminded of that unique blend of qualities. Although I admire the more critically-acclaimed Kurosawa films such as The Seven Samurai and The Hidden Fortress, none of them has toppled Sanjuro as my favorite. Kurosawa’s direction is seamless, flowing effortlessly from kinetic (as in the swordfights) to poetic (camellia blossoms flowing down a creek). The final showdown between Toshiro Mifune’s character and another samurai (whom he respects) is stunning in its efficiency and shock value.

Stewart in The Far Country.

42. The Far Country - James Stewart and director Anthony Mann made five classic Westerns together between 1950 and 1955, starting with Winchester ’73. This is my fave of the bunch, although they’re all excellent. While Stewart plays a different character in each film, his protagonists are social misfits that share traits such as bitterness, shady pasts, and, when necessary, ruthlessness. As cowpoke Jeff Webster in The Far Country, his mottos are: “Nobody ever did anything for nothing” and “I take care of me.” The plot is secondary to Mann’s themes of civilization overtaking the frontier and the importance of community.

Tippi wishes cell phones had
been invented.

41. The Birds - This one functions on two levels for me. It is, of course, a masterfully directed thriller about unexplained bird attacks in a small California seaside community (I love the playground and gas station sequences). But it’s also a well-acted 1960s relationship drama about three women and their interactions with the bland, but likable, Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor). Mitch’s mother (wonderfully played by Jessica Tandy) fears losing her son to another woman—not because of jealousy, but because she can’t stand the thought of being abandoned. Young socialite Melanie Daniels (Hedren) views Mitch as a stable love interest, something she needs as she strives to live a more meaningful life. And Annie Hayworth (Pleshette) is the spinster schoolteacher, willing to waste her life to be near Mitch after failing to pry him from his mother. These relationships are what the film is about—the birds are merely catalysts. That’s why the ending works for me; when the relationships are resolved, the bird attacks end.

Next month, I'll count another ten, including a Val Lewton classic, a Michael Crichton sci fi thriller, and two films each starring Sidney Poitier and William Holden.

In Defense of Hitch's The Birds (and the birds)

My blog One Fan's List of the Best Hitchcock Films has generated a lot of comments both here and when originally posted in the CFU. I'd like to think it's because people like me (shades of Sally Field), but, alas, the blog's popularity is strictly due to Mr. Hitchcock's many fans. Reader comments often focus on the fact that I relegated Notorious to honorable mention, while ranking Marnie and The Birds among the top four spots. I've devoted a blog to Marnie...and now The Birds gets its time in the spotlight.

I first saw The Birds on NBC’s Saturday Night at the Movies with my sister in the late 1960s. I remember liking it well enough, though the film just seemed to end with no satisfactory resolution. Over the next two decades, I may have watched The Birds three or four times. But I never developed an affection for it until the early 1990s when, on a whim, I decided to view it again while my wife was out-of-town.

For the first time, I realized that the film functions on two levels for me. It is, of course, a well-done thriller about unexplained bird attacks in a small California seaside community. But it’s also a well-acted 1960s drama about three women and their relationships with the bland, but likable, Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor). Mitch’s mother (wonderfully played by Jessica Tandy) fears losing her son to another woman—not because of jealousy, but because she can’t stand the thought of being abandoned. Young socialite Melanie Daniels (Hedren) views Mitch as a stable love interest, something she needs as she strives to live a more meaningful life. And Annie Hayworth (Pleshette) is the spinster schoolteacher, willing to waste her life to be near Mitch after failing to pry him from his mother.

In the midst of this soap-like plot, Hitchcock injects a series of escalating bird attacks, ranging from a gull that nips Melanie to a explosive strike at a gas station. His direction of these sequences is flawless, as evidenced by two textbook examples of creating suspense. Early in the film, there’s a cute scene in which Melanie (in a boat) races Mitch (in a car) to the other side of the bay. Hitchcock waits patiently until the viewer is involved in the race, then a gull suddenly swoops down to bite Melanie. This abrupt assault results in a sense of uneasiness that permeates the rest of the film.

Knowing that the viewer will now be prepared for more surprise attacks, Hitchcock shifts his strategy with a classic scene outside the schoolhouse. As Melanie waits for Annie and listens to the children singing, the viewer sees a flock of birds filling up the playground bars behind her. Melanie is oblivious to the impending danger until she catches sight of a single bird in flight and watches as it joins the others. It’s a brilliant example of the visual power of cinema.

Now, let's talk about the birds. Are they truly villains? I think not. Miss Bundy, the ornithologist, states in the restaurant after the attack on the children: "Birds are not aggressive creatures...it is mankind that insists in making it difficult for life to exist on this planet." I'm not suggesting that The Birds is an eco-horror film like John Frankenheimer's Prophecy (which I think is pretty entertaining, by the way). Rather, the scene with Miss Bundy is intended to soften our perception of the birds as terrifying creatures.

And why is that? Because Hitchcock doesn't want us to focus too much on the birds. The movie is about the Mitch-Melanie-Mitch's mother triangle. The birds are just catalysts. I still know people who hate the ending. If it frustrates you, think of the film as a drama in which all the conflicts between characters have been resolved. In that sense, The Birds ends when it should.

I realize that Notorious fans can argue the complexities of that Hitchcock classic just as well. But the purpose of this blog is not to explain why Notorious didn't make my top 10 (and, yes, I need to see it again). Rather, my goal is to point out that The Birds is more than just a suspense film and its ability to function effectively on two different levels (thriller and relationship drama) is why I love it.