Alfred Hitchcock

[Banana #3]

The thing I love about Vertigo is that it has the feel of a Hitchcock plot-driven piece, but really it's a character-driven piece.

Usually we have people plotting murder or wrongly accused men racing across the globe, but with Vertigo it's just a strange man who's strangely obsessed with some woman.

And of course, the production values really give an extra aspect of quality.

[perkizitore]

The list on the front page needs some 'fresh-up'. Pleasure Garden is released by Network in the UK and the Premiere collection should be included as well.

[ando]

Hitchcock's The Ring is among a handful of silent pictures that I enjoy watching again and again. I rarely hear or see it mentioned when people talk about Hitchcok's best work, though.

[Sheriff Chambers]

Does anybody find Vertigo especially overrated at all? I mean, I enjoy the film but I find others like Rear Window, Notorious, Psycho, and even Rope to be superior films. Just curious if anybody felt the same, or what their take on it is. Sorry if I offended anybody for degrading their favorite film.

I wouldn’t say I find Vertigo overrated but I must admit that I don’t enjoy it very much. It has acquired a significant critical reputation as both a major ‘Hitchcock’ film and for its treatment of narrative, identity and the ‘male gaze’, although, in my opinion, these factors have enabled the film to largely withstand negative reactions. Of course, much of Hitchcock’s work deals with similar issues in similarly inserting ways (Rear Window from the same period is probably the closest ‘relative’ of Vertigo in this respect), but it seems to me that the crucial difference between these two films (and between Vertigo and numerous other Hitchcock films) is one of tone. Thematically, Vertigo lacks a balance between light and dark, its overwhelming sense of despair (realised through set design, colour design, music/sound, performance, narrative and direction) lends the film a tone not found elsewhere in Hitchcock’s work. I think this – rather than, say, the film’s problematic treatment of narrative and lack of resolve – is what sets it apart from other Hitchcock films. Unlike Rear Window – which functions more straightforwardly as an ‘entertainment’ film, though without any detriment to its status as a work of art – Vertigo strikes me as cold and ‘uninviting’. James Stewart tends to bring a degree of likeable diffidence to a character, but in Vertigo this is (in the film’s second half at least) mixed with cruelty – a fact that also strikes a contrast with his performance on Rear Window - thereby further problematizing the film. (Interestingly, Stewart’s performance in Rope also lends that film a ‘cold’ edge, particularly since we are put in the somewhat awkward position of being ‘interrogated’ by Stewart owing to our positioning with the Dahl and Granger characters.)

I can think of no other Hitchcock film that is quite as bleak as Vertigo. Virtually all the other films seek to delight the viewer (while also sometimes punishing him or her for doing so), but Vertigo denies this vital aspect and function of the classical narrative fiction film. Of course, it is this very fact that sets the film apart from not only Hitchcock’s other films but also other mainstream films of the period. Thematically, Vertigo can be seen as belonging with the film noir movement of the 40s and 50s which often sought to disrupt the conventions and parameters of the classical style, and I think it is the sense of anxiety associated with this movement that we respond to when watching Vertigo. In the main, and despite a pronounced manipulation of the viewer, Hitchcock’s more typical work doesn’t ultimately seek to disrupt or unsettle the viewer, but rather it offers a rollercoaster ride from which we are all ultimately returned to safe ground. But Vertigo is a strange and unsettling ride which imbues its undeniable visual beauty with utter despair. It may well deserve its lofty reputation but it is perhaps one acquired rather more through its denial of our expectations of what a Hitchcock movie should be, and, more generally, of what an ‘entertainment’ picture of the 50s should be.

[domino harvey]

Producers of Disturbia sued for ripping off Rear Window

[mfunk9786]

Wow, I didn't realize that Rear Window or Murder from a Fixed Viewpoint didn't get a "based on" credit on Disturbia. I hope Universal cleans up on this one.

[Antoine Doinel]

Someone in Dreamworks' legal department should be fired. What a ridiculous oversight (at best). I can't imagine the obtaining the rights would've been horribly prohibitive and certainly someone like Spielberg could've talked down the costs.

Though one wonders why the lawsuit took this long to be filed.

[Jack Phillips]

Does anybody find Vertigo especially overrated at all? I mean, I enjoy the film but I find others like Rear Window, Notorious, Psycho, and even Rope to be superior films. Just curious if anybody felt the same, or what their take on it is. Sorry if I offended anybody for degrading their favorite film.

I can think of no other Hitchcock film that is quite as bleak as Vertigo.

In fact, Psycho is bleaker than Vertigo. At the end of V, although I pity Scottie, I can't help feeling that his tragedy is largely self-inflicted. He started out as a victim, true, but in the last act the tables turn and he becomes the victimizer. Judy of course facilitates his obsession, but Scottie is the one driving events, and really it is his actions that send Judy to her death. It is a terrible thing to lose someone you love; it is worse to lose them and feel you are also responsible; still worse must be to feel responsible for losing someone a second and final time. But this result follows from choices Scottie has made; it is possible to imagine other decisions, other results.

The contrast with Marion Crane could not be more stark. She enters the chaos world (Robin Wood's phrase) of her own volition, and drives deeper into it under her own power. A combination of choices bring her to the Bates Motel. But at the edge of the abyss she suddenly pulls back, turns, attempts to return to the light. Then the underworld reaches up and pulls her down anyway. Redemption is denied her even at the point of repentance. Scottie naturally comes to grief because he is incapable of seeking any sort of redemption; Marion, however, actually demonstrates a change of heart just prior to her death. It counts for nothing. The world of Psycho--and of The Birds--is entirely naturalistic, operating independently of human morality, a frightening thing to contemplate.

Scottie on the tower looking downward is a devastating image, but can't compare with the sucker punch Hitchcock delivers in the last shot of Psycho. After listening to Simon Oakland explain away Norman and his mother fixation, then seeing a final demonstration of it, we may feel a bit reassured. Yes, the world is often terrible, but it is terrible in an understandable way. Suddenly, the trunk of Marion's car emerges from the muck, dispelling the comfort that the foregoing explanation has afforded. Explain that, Mr. Psychobabler. But there is only silence following this bleakest of bleak endings.

But bleak endings, though infrequent in Hitchcock, are not unknown within the Western narrative tradition. Sophocles had them, as did Euripides. As did Shakespeare. They make for weightier dramas, in fact, and have allowed the creation of some of our greatest works of literature.

[Michael]

In fact, Psycho is bleaker than Vertigo.

Very much indeed, Jack. The bleakest of all Hitchcock films. Psycho is Hitchcock's ultimate vision of America, what an empty, sad, dislocated vision that is. As I get older, Marion Crane grows more to become my favorite Hitchcock woman. There's something about this woman that stands apart from the other women in Hitchcock's cinema. Definitely the most modern of them all. Psycho still holds up extremely well even for daily viewing! It's a bullet of celluloid. Stark, sexy, sad, scary.

[colinr0380]

Does anybody find Vertigo especially overrated at all? I mean, I enjoy the film but I find others like Rear Window, Notorious, Psycho, and even Rope to be superior films. Just curious if anybody felt the same, or what their take on it is. Sorry if I offended anybody for degrading their favorite film.

I can think of no other Hitchcock film that is quite as bleak as Vertigo.

In fact, Psycho is bleaker than Vertigo. At the end of V, although I pity Scottie, I can't help feeling that his tragedy is largely self-inflicted. He started out as a victim, true, but in the last act the tables turn and he becomes the victimizer. Judy of course facilitates his obsession, but Scottie is the one driving events, and really it is his actions that send Judy to her death. It is a terrible thing to lose someone you love; it is worse to lose them and feel you are also responsible; still worse must be to feel responsible for losing someone a second and final time. But this result follows from choices Scottie has made; it is possible to imagine other decisions, other results.

I agree, in a way Scottie and Judy follow the same trajectory, though Judy of course suffers the worse fate. The person who thinks he's in control and the voyeur of the situation turns out not to be; the person who did the manipulating is herself destroyed by unleashing an obsession she can't handle.

In Psycho on the other hand there's a disconnect rather than an obsession - Marion didn't force anyone to become obsessed with her or to drive her to her death, she was just the victim of a maniac. Whereas Vertigo is a twisty tale of deception and manipulation, Psycho is a stripped down film where the 'twists' occur through misunderstanding rather than conscious decision. Sam, Lila and the PI all over complicate Norman's motivations with their ideas of why someone would kill, even the psychologist at the end seems overly self assured that he is 'correct' in his assessment of Norman's insanity. I sometimes feel that the film is a cautionary tale about projecting your opinions onto someone and feeling assured that you understand everything about a person without bothering to get to know them - every character is as guilty of doing this to someone else during the film, even Mother!

The great tragedy for Marion is that she dies a criminal on the run without getting the chance to redeem herself by turning herself in - just at the point she is starting to relax for the first time events take a bloody turn and no one outside of the audience will know for certain that she was going to come back and face the music.

I'm not really a big fan of Vertigo in the sense that I don't find it as 'entertaining' (whatever that means) as most other Hitchcock films, but it is one of those films that is extremely important to see and understand because it has had an enormous affect on so many other films since - in that sense I don't think Vertigo is overrated at all.

[aox]

I like Vertigo and I still watch it at least once a year. I also feel it is an important film in the American canon (whatever that means). However, I liked it better when I first read the 'dream theory' and honestly, that is the only way the film works for me. I suppose that the majority of fans have debunked, or at the least suppressed, the dream theory under the heavy weight of continuous denial, and not many buy into the theory anymore. It's a shame. The film is that much more meaningful to me when I watch it with this "wrong" interpretation. I just can't take any scene after Scotty is in the institution seriously if taken 'as is'. I realize that watching Hitchcock is not an exercise in any realism, but even the last hour (?) after Scotty is in the institution is a stretch for me in terms of suspending disbelief. Plus, I think the interpretation adds so much to the film and what it means.

In conclusion, Vertigo fans (and a lot of other people) hate me.

[Michael]

I wish I could feel the same about about Vertigo as I did 25 years ago. But I'm still very grateful for the film for having pushed the very young me forward into understanding what cinema was all about. Much more deeply. Even though I still watch Vertigo once every year, time has not been good to the film. The emotional and visual punch keeps diminishing over the years. The wanderings of Scottie and Madeline keep growing duller. However, Psycho continues to grow more powerful as I get older. It's the weird stripped-down nature of the film that makes it everlastingly modern and harrowing in many ways. And the older I get, I identify and sympathize with Marion Crane more and more. The melancholy of the Bates house is gut wrenching, monstrous and brutal - so much more than Scottie's melancholy that I find pathetic and lame today. The loss of Marion Crane is tons tons more devastating than the loss of Madeline. That's just how I feel.

PS I just love the music billowing Crane into the car sales lot, then instantly silences as she starts surveying the car licenses. Something I never noticed till very recently.

[Haggai]

In fact, Psycho is bleaker than Vertigo.

Very much indeed, Jack. The bleakest of all Hitchcock films. Psycho is Hitchcock's ultimate vision of America, what an empty, sad, dislocated vision that is.

I'd put Shadow of a Doubt right up there on the Hitchcock bleakness scale as well. The safety of small town life, the security of family...a bunch of big fat lies. And there are only two people at the end who know it, unable to reveal the terrible "truth about Charlie," while everyone else in the town remains blissfully ignorant.

[Tolmides]

Heads up to Oz viewers. ABC TV1 is starting a series of Universal Hitchcocks this month which will also screen on their HD channel (well 720p anyway) ABC20. Based on the promos they look like they are taken from HD masters, Rear Window in particular looks quite striking and similar to the 35mmm Dye Transfer prints of the Robert Harris resto that circulated briefly during the early Naughties.

Thanks for the heads-up!

It seems they're only screening five Hitchcocks:

Saturday 20th September - Rear Window
Saturday 27th September - Man Who Knew Too Much
Saturday 4th October - Suspicion
Saturday 11th October - Vertigo
Saturday 18th October – Frenzy

I haven't seen the Man Who Knew Too Much or Frenzy (it's been on TV countless times but I forget to record it every time) so I'll look out for those.

[Sheriff Chambers]

In fact, Psycho is bleaker than Vertigo.

Very much indeed, Jack. The bleakest of all Hitchcock films. Psycho is Hitchcock's ultimate vision of America, what an empty, sad, dislocated vision that is.

I'd put Shadow of a Doubt right up there on the Hitchcock bleakness scale as well. The safety of small town life, the security of family...a bunch of big fat lies. And there are only two people at the end who know it, unable to reveal the terrible "truth about Charlie," while everyone else in the town remains blissfully ignorant.

Quite agree with what you say about Psycho – and Shadow of a Doubt, but I feel it’s the tone throughout Vertigo that sets it apart. Psycho is certainly a cynical take on American society at a key moment of change, and the last shot of Marion’s car emerging from the swamp only to be cut-up by the same lines that open the film is dark indeed, but the film’s status as an up-market shocker is also something to be enjoyed - it’s a fun picture with some great scares. While I find Vertigo to be wonderful in visual terms I find it a bit of an ordeal emotionally – though I recognise that this is part of its design.

[Mr Sausage]

it's a fun picture with some great scares.

I would expect this said of Rear Window or The Birds more than Psycho, the latter being too uncomfortable and off-kilter to be a "fun" picture. The music alone keeps you from being too settled, and those "great scares" are frankly too disturbing to chuckle over with your date while leaving the theatre. It's not light-hearted enough to be a fun picture; like Night of the Living Dead, it really pushes you into your seat.

[Sheriff Chambers]

it's a fun picture with some great scares.

I would expect this said of Rear Window or The Birds more than Psycho, the latter being too uncomfortable and off-kilter to be a "fun" picture. The music alone keeps you from being too settled, and those "great scares" are frankly too disturbing to chuckle over with your date while leaving the theatre. It's not light-hearted enough to be a fun picture; like Night of the Living Dead, it really pushes you into your seat.

Not quite as fun as Rear Window, but Psycho certainly has its moments of (dark) humour, particular on repeat viewings. I don't deny that the film emotionally assaults the viewer and that it repays our serious consideration. Like Night of the Living Dead, it comments on genre conventions (while also revising those conventions in its historical context), but don't forget that Hitch conceived Psycho in response to the success of the exploitation movies of the 50s that had been aimed at the younger "drive-in" audiences that emerged during this period. Hitch wanted to be part of this crucial development in Hollywood and Psycho was his contribution. It's a well-oiled fright machine, but one that outstrips the competition on all levels. (There are, of course, many great sequences and scenes in Psycho, but the extended dialogue scene between Perkins and Balsam is sublime (I sometimes put the film on just to have a look at this) such great performances, and so perfectly nuanced.)

One might have expected Hitch's next film, The Birds, to continue the change in direction begun by Psycho, but I find it a much darker and more troubling film. The film's treatment of the Melanie Daniels character is fascinating.

[colinr0380]

One might have expected Hitch’s next film, The Birds, to continue the change in direction begun by Psycho, but I find it a much darker and more troubling film. The film’s treatment of the Melanie Daniels character is fascinating.

I agree on that. Hitchcock's film starts off in a far more privileged and fluffy bubble than Du Maurier's story and part of what could be considered to be the sadism of the film is the question of just how much Melanie 'deserves' her treatment for her shallow big city ways and whether we're meant to sympathise with her or be glad that she stupidly wanders off to the upstairs room when she hears noises in the middle of the night? (she doesn't really deserve the things she goes through in the film but it is a strange coincidence that her arrival with the love birds coincides with the town being besieged, maybe making one of the themes the way that the small community is caught up between natural forces and the relentless progress and different moralities of the 'civilised' world that Melanie brings with her)

Even at the beginning of the film she seems sexually voracious and shallow, then once she gets to Bodega Bay she is contrasted with the more suitable and overlooked Annie Hayworth. Then she fails miserably to live up to Mother's expectations of what her son needs, though at least in this film the son seems to be ready to defy his mother for a girl. Melanie is attacked by the birds, so it is not as if she is not a target herself. However during the restaurant scene discussing various causes of the attacks she herself gets blamed. Melanie seems the least likeable, and annoyingly self-assured character but in a strange way during the film she seems the most lost and truly alone out of everyone. Perhaps she needs her attic experience and rescue by Mitch as a kind of rite of passage to be accepted into the Brennan family - she needs to be bloodied by the birds to prove allegeiance to all the family, to show she's not just trying to take Mitch away for herself (and might have been her initial intention). The film is also an interesting twist on male and female roles - Melanie is the one doing the chasing, buying the presents, trying to endear herself to the rest of the family and having to protect and fight for them in the most literal senses, while Mitch is in the more classical female role of looking after child and mother after his partner has left him in the lurch, being more rural and looking after the house. In that sense could Melanie's almost catatonic state at the end of the film could be a kind of return of 'normal' gender roles by the way that she manages to become even more passive than Mitch? Though she also becomes another child for the mother and seems to become even more literally a 'big sister' to the girl rather than a mother subsitute, so things don't exactly work out as Melanie might have wanted (her repositioning in the family also would seem to make the relationship with Mitch feel incestuous if it were going to become anything more than platonic, even if it isn't literally that!)

It is also interesting that of course in the final scene they leave Melanie's open top sports car behind because of its unsuitability against bird attacks and so need to use the family car instead to drive off - perhaps a sign that she is leaving behind that older aspect of her life as a go-getting single woman for a domestic situation, even if it is in a world now ruled by the birds!

(EDIT: Having gone back to rewatch The Birds in the last couple of days I now realise that I was mistaken and that they actually do use Melanie's convertible to flee the birds at the end of the film! What that means for my above theory I can't say, probably best to put it down to a flight of fancy!)

I don't exactly see Hitchcock's thriller films as purely fun, even Rear Window (Though if you mean fun more in the sense of constantly entertaining and near perfect films that reward from first viewing to umpteenth repetition, then I'd agree!) The thrillers are full of black humour, even Psycho, but a lot of the more overtly comic sections seem to be there to raise a chuckle that then gets caught in the throat as events unfold.

One of the things I like most about The Birds is just how stylised the film is. I know everyone comments about the bird attacks being rather crude looking to modern eyes, but that is only the beginning of the dislocated techniques. There's the (wonderfully) fake lovebirds moving from side to side in Melanie's car during her drive to Bodega Bay and the way that the town seems a fantastical idealised setting created through matte paintings (that also gets mini-reflections in the scene where Melanie and Mitch leave Cathy's party and go up onto the sand dunes for their intimate scene together - it feels just like a stage set, from the coast backdrop to the way the actors move from background to front of stage to begin their dialogue). There is also the dialogue itself, which sometimes seems disconnected from the picture in that Carnival of Souls manner - the actors talk without being heard and then in the same shot without any cutting to suggest a change in distance so we can hear them better, the dialogue that we are supposed to hear comes through loud and clear. So sound is just as obviously stylised as picture, and it feels as if our attention is being drawn towards that discongruity (It fascinates me that The Birds had considerable success while Marnie had severe criticism for its own 'fake' sets)

It feels like the world (or at least Bodega Bay) is already fake (that human society is an unnatural attempt at order just inviting senseless destruction to provide it with meaning?) and when the birds attacks do come it just fragments the style further - maybe best shown in Melanie's three posed, still reaction shots following the fast moving trail of burning fuel back to the petrol pump before the explosion. There are many instances where people are posed or the image is stylised to such an extent it is like seeing a graphic novel - the poses are so crisp and immediately apparent in meaning that they feel hyper real.

[Michael]

One might have expected Hitch’s next film, The Birds, to continue the change in direction begun by Psycho, but I find it a much darker and more troubling film. The film’s treatment of the Melanie Daniels character is fascinating.

Change of direction. yes. But I'm not sure if The Birds is "darker and more troubling" than Psycho. I have to think about that. I LOVE The Birds, my fave Hitchcock after Psycho. Universal Studios held a Hitchcock retrospective a decade ago, I attended several screenings. The audience reaction to each film was very interesting. The Birds had the audience roaring in laughter way so often, esp. the part when the birds attacked the children, their legs kicking up and also when the sparrows attacked Melanie, she twirled herself against the wall. The film was like a comedy. Probably due to it being over the top and a bit campy (unintended of course.

But the reaction to Psycho was wholly opposite. It was very somber.

[Mr Sausage]

but don’t forget that Hitch conceived Psycho in response to the success of the exploitation movies of the 50s that had been aimed at the younger ‘drive-in’ audiences that emerged during this period.

I haven't forgotten; in fact, that was exactly why I brought up Night of the Living Dead, which had similar aims. Roger Ebert's description of a particular screening of Night of the Living Dead in 1968 is illuminating, and should warn you against characterizing the tone and effect of a movie based on who the filmmakers were planning on selling it to (see also: Tobe Hooper's idea that Texas Chainsaw Massacre was a PG chiller).

But I'm not sure if The Birds is "darker and more troubling" than Psycho

I'm sure it's not.

the question of just how much Melanie 'deserves' her treatment for her shallow big city ways and whether we're meant to sympathise with her or be glad that she stupidly wanders off to the upstairs room when she hears noises in the middle of the night?

Anyone who'd think Melanie deserves that attack is a disgusting person (not directed at you, Colin). I don't for a moment think Hitchcock is that kind of insensitive brute, to take pleasure and to want us to take pleasure in the idea of brutalizing someone for their "sins." The movie would be intolerable, and really very bad, if that was its aim, to set up a character's immorality and then leeringly draw her towards her proper punishment. No, I think we have to be careful with Hitchcock, who often uses sex to make his characters more dramatically interesting (taboo breaking behaviours fascinated him), but which can nevertheless fool people into finding a puritanism in Hitchcock and then interpret accordingly. If anything, the Birds is more about a woman going to meet a man for non-committal gratification, and finds herself thrust into a situation that demands the utmost emotional involvement from her (and which she steps up to meet). The narrative move is an ironic one, not an allegorical one.

[colinr0380]

If anything, the Birds is more about a woman going to meet a man for non-committal gratification, and finds herself thrust into a situation that demands the utmost emotional involvement from her (and which she steps up to meet). The narrative move is an ironic one, not an allegorical one.

Yes, that's true but she is also viewed with distrust (and in the restaurant scene, hostility) as to her motives as people project onto her (something that might relate back to what I was saying earlier about Psycho), and I think Hitch makes sure everything is against her, if only to heighten the drama and her isolation from the other people in the close knit community. In a way, without the bird attack forcing them all together in extreme circumstances it would have looked likely that Melanie's attempted wooing of Mitch would have been doomed to failure rather than leaving us with the tenative success of her acceptance into the family. So in the end we're left to weigh up a relatively happy end to the personal story against the sudden, unexplained horror occuring all around.

[Sheriff Chambers]

but don’t forget that Hitch conceived Psycho in response to the success of the exploitation movies of the 50s that had been aimed at the younger ‘drive-in’ audiences that emerged during this period.

I haven't forgotten; in fact, that was exactly why I brought up Night of the Living Dead, which had similar aims. Roger Ebert's description of a particular screening of Night of the Living Dead in 1968 is illuminating, and should warn you against characterizing the tone and effect of a movie based on who the filmmakers were planning on selling it to (see also: Tobe Hooper's idea that Texas Chainsaw Massacre was a PG chiller).

But Hitch’s movie appealed to an adolescent audience while also consciously raising the bar where violence/sex/nudity were concerned.

The Ebert article is interesting because it’s dated early 1967 and I’m sure NOTLD appeared in 1968 after a very long shoot. Interesting too to note the fact that it seems to have appeared in that largely unregulated period of 1966-1968 – after the Production Code but before the rating system. As Ebert says, the policy then (i.e., before the MPAA code) was to suggest certain films for ‘mature audiences’, but evidently this was not always adhered to! The IMDB have the film’s release date as 1st October 1968, which, I believe, was about the date the MPAA code took effect (must check this).

Thanks for the reference – absolutely fascinating! I’ve read a lot around NOTLD’s reception but this is new to me – it really makes the point about the way horror had until then been designed largely for kids/young adolescents but that with the lifting of the old Production Code after years of attack (from Psycho and others) horror was able to target an older audience, many of whom would be able to respond to more cynical narratives.

[Mr Sausage]

If anything, the Birds is more about a woman going to meet a man for non-committal gratification, and finds herself thrust into a situation that demands the utmost emotional involvement from her (and which she steps up to meet). The narrative move is an ironic one, not an allegorical one.

Yes, that's true but she is also viewed with distrust (and in the restaurant scene, hostility) as to her motives as people project onto her (something that might relate back to what I was saying earlier about Psycho), and I think Hitch makes sure everything is against her, if only to heighten the drama and her isolation from the other people in the close knit community. In a way, without the bird attack forcing them all together in extreme circumstances it would have looked likely that Melanie's attempted wooing of Mitch would have been doomed to failure rather than leaving us with the tenative success of her acceptance into the family. So in the end we're left to weigh up a relatively happy end to the personal story against the sudden, unexplained horror occuring all around.

Considering Hitchcock is so fond of characters suddenly confronted by underserved and pervasive antagonism, I would guess that his sympathy is with Melanie in these circumstances and not with the townsfolk.

But I wonder how much of the ending can be construed as happy. I think we're left in a state of apprehension about what's going to happen by the eerie placidity of the birds which carries over onto the new relationship of the characters, which we are left equally to wonder about (people often come together under duress, but what happens when there is no longer a conflict to unite them?)

But Hitch’s movie appealed to an adolescent audience while also consciously raising the bar where violence/sex/nudity were concerned.

I don't know what to do with your ambiguous wording. Do you mean that it was meant to appeal to this audience, or that it did appeal, or that it still does appeal? And moreover, what of it? It's not a "fun" movie by virtue of who it was marketed at, or who the filmmakers or anyone else thought would love it. It's fun or not fun by virtue of the aesthetic factors of the film itself.

[Sheriff Chambers]

But Hitch’s movie appealed to an adolescent audience while also consciously raising the bar where violence/sex/nudity were concerned.

I don't know what to do with your ambiguous wording. Do you mean that it was meant to appeal to this audience, or that it did appeal, or that it still does appeal? And moreover, what of it? It's not a "fun" movie by virtue of who it was marketed at, or who the filmmakers or anyone else thought would love it. It's fun or not fun by virtue of the aesthetic factors of the film itself.

Perhaps I ought to have said that the ‘movie was designed to appeal…’ And I suppose the word ‘fun’ isn’t all that helpful. It might be better to say that the film was designed as a ‘shocker’ – imprecise perhaps, but, in 1960, probably indicative of a film that was not conceived, produced and sold as an ‘art’ film in the sense that L’Avventura (also 1960) was (I’m assuming we both understand the formal and cultural characteristics of classical and art cinema). By ‘shocker’ I mean a film that can be understood as belonging to a particular genre/sub-genre, and as such is likely to be consumed according to the conventions of that particular genre/sub-genre – i.e., as a film that offers audiences a particular experience (often a sense of, albeit perverse, fun – a key characteristic of much horror cinema). However, H always took things one step further; the experiences (both formal and emotional) offered by Psycho are groundbreaking, profound and deeply challenging, but are nonetheless ‘contained’ by their function within and as classical entertainment cinema (‘entertainment’ is a problematic term and I use it to distinguish the function of classical cinema from art cinema – while both entertain in a general sense I would argue that art cinema does so in oblique terms since one of art cinema’s primary objectives, at least historically, has been to confound and challenge – I do not intend ‘entertainment’ as a pejorative term here). The film’s advertising campaign (I’m sure you’re familiar with this) was clearly designed to appeal to a specific group although whether or not Psycho did appeal to this group in particular is probably difficult to demonstrate. But Psycho’s appeal more generally can be ascertained by looking at contemporary responses to the film (which were largely mixed), and its commercial success – the result of a highly effective advertising campaign, sensational critical responses and word-of–mouth.

Does the film still appeal? I would say yes, generally it does. I know that many younger first time viewers today might have mixed feelings about it but will usually recognise it as an important film.

I didn’t mean to imply Psycho was a fun movie by virtue of whom it was marketed at and I’m sorry if I did – I hope the above clarifies my position. However, I’m not sure I agree with you when you say ‘t's fun or not fun by virtue of the aesthetic factors of the film itself’. I find this a bit limiting since it seems to exclude the possibility of a personal response to the film – which Psycho certainly encourages! I don’t think one’s response to a film is determined by aesthetic factors alone (by which I assume you mean a film’s formal qualities and characteristics).

[Mr Sausage]

By ‘shocker’ I mean a film that can be understood as belonging to a particular genre/sub-genre, and as such is likely to be consumed according to the conventions of that particular genre/sub-genre – i.e., as a film that offers audiences a particular experience (often a sense of, albeit perverse, fun – a key characteristic of much horror cinema).

But all of this comes back to my intial point (which I hope not to have to make again), which I made through an analogy to Night of the Living Dead. You read the Ebert thing. All of those kids, and no doubt most of the older people watching, we're prepared for the very same thing: a 'shocker' to be consumed according to the conventions they were used to (and the reason so many kids were allowed by parents to see it). It too was a film supposed to offer "audiences a particular experience (often a sense of, albeit perverse, fun – a key characteristic of much horror cinema)." And as we can see, that did not, in any way, stop the film from being a harrowing, dazing, and awful experience for the unprepared. And very few would ever call Night of the Living Dead "a fun picture with some great scares," no matter how much it is part of a genre, no matter what the general appeal of the genre is, and regardless of what kind of person the genre attracts. Therefore (and this is a small hop), there is no reason to hang these sorry assumptions around Psycho's neck, as though one's reaction to a film were overdetermined by its generic appeal.