Alfred
Hitchcock, the master of suspense, largely self-financed his notorious 1960
classic, Psycho. He picked the right film to literally bet his
home on. A spectacular success by any
standard, the film that would introduce Norman Bates to the world looked like
it might be his swan song during its rocky development and production stages. Dramatizing the behind-the-scenes story of
arguably his most iconic work, Sacha Gervasi’s sympathetic but bitingly witty Hitchcock (trailer here) is now in award
contention for at least one and possibly two of its accomplished leads.
Hitchcock is not a story
Hitch would have made. Since we know Psycho was completed to his satisfaction
and became a monster hit at the box office, there is not a lot of suspense to
the tale. However, the getting from
point A to point B is quite fascinating.
As we meet Hitchcock and his patient wife Alma Reville, he is basking in
the triumph of North by Northwest,
which somewhat bores them both. As a
distraction, Reville starts doctoring a new spec script written by Strangers on a Train screenwriter
Whitfield Cook, who is hoping she will convince Hitchcock to attach himself to it. Of course, he has his mind set on very
different property.
Based
on Robert Bloch’s novel, which in turn was inspired by Wisconsin serial killer
Ed Gein, Psycho is the sort of film
no respectable studio director would think of touching. That is exactly why Hitchcock is attracted to
it. As the closing titles remind
viewers, Hitchcock never won an Academy Award (a fact that could either help or
hinder the film’s own Oscar campaign).
Throughout Gervasi’s film, Hitchcock is clearly presented as a brilliant
but ragingly insecure filmmaker. Resenting
his lack of recognition, Psycho is
convincingly framed as an effort to make an exploitation horror movie that is
vastly superior to the prestige pictures the studios released. And so it was.
Yes,
this Hitchcock is somewhat neurotic and there is no denying his eye for
blondes. Yet, John J. McLaughlin’s
screen treatment is refreshingly forgiving of his foibles. He was indeed a man of expensive tastes
(taste being the most apt word), but the audience also sees Hitch and Alma
puttering about the kitchen in slippers, like relatively down to earth people.
Both
Sir Anthony Hopkins and Dame Helen Mirren are terrific as the first couple of
suspense. As the title auteur, Hopkins
is Hitchy without getting kitschy or shticky.
Likewise, Mirren is the picture of mature sophistication as
Reville. Listening to them bantering
like an old familiar couple is one of the film’s great pleasures.
Yet,
the supporting work of Toni Collette and Scarlett Johansson really fleshes out
the film. Collette’s smart, surprisingly
attractive turn elevates what could easily have been the thankless role of the
Hitchcock’s thankless assistant Peggy Robertson. Beyond being a spooky dead-ringer for Janet
Leigh, Johansson also has some wonderful scenes with both principles that
really deepen their humanity. While an
Oscar campaign on her behalf might be pushing it, Hitchcock should definitely be on the bill for any future Johansson
retrospective.
