One of the many insights in Kent Jones’ sparkling new documentary,
Hitchcock/Truffaut, is the “God’s Eye
View.” For those moments of communion, Hitchcock--whose
mind’s eye could roll out every impending compositional detail in a visual
narrative--would abruptly reconfigure his camera angle to peer down on his actors
from on high. The new vantage would shift the viewer’s suspenseful involvement
with a prospective victim to bigger-picture concerns--say, the more
detached sweep of the sociologist, the actuary, the fatalist.
Hitchcock/Truffaut
demonstrated the tactic via the Master’s iconic overhead shots of Cary Grant attempting to outrace a menacing crop duster. It also showed residents
of Bodega Bay, California scattering like ants from descending birds. And it didn’t forget
to include the second, less celebrated murder scene in Psycho, when Martin Balsam tumbled backward down an impossibly
steep flight of stairs in the Victorian “Psycho House.”
For many, that murder was but an afterthought to Janet Leigh’s earlier,
iconic demise during the motel shower scene, some fifty feet away. In truth, Mother Bates' Victorian refuge and the Bates Motel are inextricably connected, casting
the darkest of emotionally symbiotic shadows. The former—a freakish architectural
outcrop with its devious surface area --is overtly menacing: You’re
not sure what secrets lie within, but emotionally speaking you can tell that “book” by its cover. (Hitchcock
apparently got inspired by Edward Hopper’s painting below.)
Inspired by Hopper (Click to Enlarge) |
The motel--in counterpoint to that aging asylum--was a thoroughly nondescript gathering of right angles—of postwar 1950s
functionality. (There was, of course, the ominous exception of Norman’s
taxidermy.) No surprise then that the murder had all the efficiency and single-mindedness of a first-rate operating theater.
As Hitchcock/Truffaut
made clear, Hitchcock was on a career-long mission to manipulate his actors (whom
he likened to cattle) and to viscerally manipulate us, his audience. So what's your pleasure? An old fashioned swipe
or two of the knife and tumble down a Victorian staircase or a surgical strafing
in a well-scrubbed motel bathtub. Given the public’s overwhelming
reaction, it's clear that Hitchcock took a successful knife thrust at American
modernity.
____________________________________________________________________
The new documentary is the best film course you never took, distilled into 77 minutes. Here's a trailer: