Shock Corridor

The continuing (limited and selective) ramble in defence of Alfred Hitchcock's portrayal of women. A wee while ago I had a look at Rear Window (1954). Inspired by an article I read that reduced Hitchcock's portrayal of women thusly:   'Hitchcock's women are outwardly immaculate, but full of treachery and weakness. But, hurrah, he doesn't kill them all. He just teaches them a thoroughly good lesson.'  ( Bidisha, 2010 ).  In that post I intended to suggest that Hitchcock counterpoints male and female points of view and that ultimately the male point of view is the one that shifts (that was the idea, don't know if I pulled it off). Here I want to look at the women in The Birds (1963) and how these characters fit into a wider societal context. Bidisha distils the essence of The Birds to this: The message is that women (a) are all about men and (b) can't get along because they're so busy pecking and squabbling over men. Mitch's mum hates Melani

Brief break in the Hitchcock - it's coming, I swear. Just watched this... 'The Angel's Share' ...twice. Loved it. Ken Loach is a wonderful director. Not in the same the way perhaps that I've talked about Hitchcock (IT'S COMIN'!!!) or Wong Kar-Wai or Orson Welles. Ken Loach succeeds because he loves people. He can get performances from actors that have never, or barely, worked before that other directors can't coax from actors that have done the job for years (look at Paul Brannigan in the scene at the TASC). In this film he, and the equally wonderful writer Paul Laverty, also show how comedy doesn't need to be over exaggerated and can be firmly situated in 'real' life, in circumstances we can all understand, as well as being sympathetic to it's subjects, and not feeling the need to be abusive or condescending to them or us. They bring the people usually frowned upon by society and those usually looked upon as the stalwarts of soci

Howdy. Offft! This one has been a long time coming but here's another wee post looking at some of Alfred Hitchcock's output...his filmic output, nothing else - certainly nothing biological that would be disgusting. It seems timely as a load of his films have had a digital makeover and Vertigo (1958) completes it's 30 year climb to the top of the BFI: Top 50 Greatest Films of All Time list. Anyhee, the gist is, I read an article in the Guardian recently which described Hitchcock's representation of women in a less than flattering light: 'the female characters in his [Hitchcock's] films range from stupid to cunning to traitorous' ( Bidisha, Guardian, 2010 ) and I thought...ohh, I don't know about that and immediately sprang into action, composing this response. In my own immutable, straightforward and succinct style, this is currently looking like two posts and it will hopefully end there. The crux of these posts is to suggest that the female charact

Film is primarily a visual form, no matter how loud Michael Bay feels he has to make it, and the best of them speak in images - not just in a beautifully composed, or sumptuously rendered single image, but through an interplay of multiple, linked images.  Strangers on a Train (Alfred Hitchcock, 1951) does just that and if you'll indulge me I'll tell why I think this and how I think it goes about it. I'll do this using my  (scant)  powers of semiotic understanding on the opening 2 minutes and 17 seconds  of this pant-wettingly lovely offering from Mr. Hitchcock , which arguably shows us very little but, hopefully just as arguable tells us everything because that's the plan. (Assuming you watched the link or have seen it before) Fantastic, isn't it? Now let me ruin it - I mean explore it. Let's explore it. Ok, a real quick introduction to semiotics as I understand it. Semiotics is interested in signs, not what they mean necessarily but how they mean

Hoping to put a couple of Hitchcock post out soon what with all the chatter and film restoring and retrospection and stuff. In the mean time here are a few of my favourite images of the man himself. Noted for mystery, thrillers and horror, he had a terrific sense of humour. I like that. Catch ye, J

For me a really good title sequence sets up a film. It builds anticipation as it sets the pace and mood for what is to come. A great number of films like to deliver the titles over an establishing set piece, but when a title sequence is done right - offt! So here are some title sequences I like because...they do that...thing...I just said. Monsters Inc. (Pete Doctor, 2001) Old school. Catch Me If You Can (Steven Speilberg, 2002) All style and surface, just like the character. Cape Fear (Martin Scorsese, 1991) Saul Bass #1: Atmosphere Spartacus (Stanley Kubrick, 1960) Saul Bass #2: The film in four minutes. Once Upon a Time in the West (Sergio Leone, 1968) Very well known and deservedly so I'd say. Arguably gets right to the action but just as arguable is that it serves as a terrific introduction to Sergio Leone. I include it as this was his first real film intended for a mass western (geographical, not genre) audience and I'd say