Alfred
Hitchcock had a special affinity for his favorite leading man, because they were
both working class Brits who completely reinvented themselves in Hollywood.
However, there was more than mere poverty and want in the background of the man
born Archibald Leach in hardscrabble Bristol. Mark Kidel delves into the iconic
actor’s psyche in the psycho-documentary, Becoming
Cary Grant (trailer
here),
which premieres this Friday on Showtime.
Grant
did care for giving interviews, but he did leave behind fragment of an unfinished
memoir, offering a rich vein of material for Kidel to mine (and read with pitch
perfect diction by Jonathan Pryce). One aspect of his life Grant was uncharacteristically
forthright about (at least on unpublished paper) is the extensive LSD treatment
he underwent. Yes, that is correct. Cary Grant dropped acid—100 times—under the
supervision of a licensed psychiatrist.
Perhaps
most surprisingly, Grant believed it worked. As it turns out, he had deeply
rooted issues with women and abandonment, stemming from the disappearance of
his mother at a tender age. His father led the young lad to believe his mother
had absconded, but he had really committed her to a mental institution, with
shockingly flimsy justification. Grant would not learn the truth until he had
firmly established himself in Hollywood.
It
is easy to see how such developments could lead to long-term baggage. Frankly,
the LSD references are just the sizzle of Becoming.
The psycho-sexual issues caused by the presumed betrayal of Grant’s mother and
the Sophoclean angst resulting from the revelation of the truth are the real
drivers of the film.
Aside
from some analysis of Grant’s special relationship with Hitchcock, Kidel spends
disappointingly little time on Grant’s actual films. Anyone hoping for
deconstructive reading of Operation
Petticoat will have to look elsewhere. Kidel also only raises more
questions (and eyebrows) when the film makes a passing off-hand reference about
the fluidity of Grant’s sexuality, especially when Gillian Armstrong’s
Orry-Kelly doc Women He’s Undressed explicitly
claims Grant carried on a long-term romantic relationship with Randolph Scott.
Still,
Kidel manages to get inside Grant’s head without ruining his one of a kind
mystique. Grant’s final film was released in 1966, but he still feels like a
much more vital cultural presence than many of his contemporaries who continued
working through the 1980s and 1990s. Of course, it helps when you make
undisputed classics like North by
Northwest, Charade, To Catch a Thief, Notorious, The Bishop’s Wife, and His Girl Friday. Kidel and company also
convincingly argue Grant really could act, despite the sense of effortlessness
he projected.
