My Name is Alfred Hitchcock
Mark Cousins incorporates an unexpected twist in his characteristic study of The Master of Suspense.
Janet Leigh with ‘Hitch’
When it comes to reading a film there are few if any critics and commentators who can match Mark Cousins. He is possessed of an innate gift for it, one that he is dedicated to cultivating and which has become celebrated both through pieces for television and through films made by him which have been centred on the cinema and its history. His latest documentary feature, My Name Is Alfred Hitchcock, is characteristic of this analytical approach of his which enables him to share his insights with the viewer in a thoroughly rewarding way. The only unexpected feature this time around lies in the fact that, save for the odd brief interjection, we do not hear his own familiar tones. That's because on this occasion what is voiced bears the recognisable vocal imprint of Hitchcock himself.
Indeed, the film’s opening credits describe it as "written and voiced by Alfred Hitchcock", but in truth Cousins is adopting a playful approach which seems to have irritated some critics but which worked well for me. From their comments I knew in advance that the voice-over would be by Alistair McGowan imitating Hitchcock's voice, a fact acknowledged in the closing credits. McGowan’s contribution confirms what an excellent impressionist he is, but in any case the audience is let in on the joke virtually from the start since our narrator comments openly on his being dead. The idea adopted here by Cousins of putting his comments into Hitchcock's mouth may also be a subtle tongue-in-cheek riposte to certain critics who, unlike the majority of us who relish the very mellifluous sound found in the voice of Mark Cousins, positively dislike it and have said so. In this film Cousins seems to be saying that if you don't like my voice, you can have Hitchcock’s instead. Also to be found here is another jokey novelty: it's in the narrator’s promise that there will be just one lie in the film (a notion that clearly tips its hat to what Orson Welles did in 1973 in F for Fake).
But, if the nature of the commentary is different, in all other respects My Name Is Alfred Hitchcock is in line with what we have come to expect from Cousins. It focuses on the films and on the techniques that Hitchcock made his own and, even if the movies can in some respects be thought to reflect the man, Cousins is not concerned here with his life as such or with any of the controversies surrounding Hitchcock’s treatment of the likes of Tippi Hedren. No, this is an investigation of how Hitchcock as director sought to draw in his audience while taking account of their likes (whether they are acknowledged by them or not) while also playing with them. He relishes the idea of his art turning him into an adept trickster, an attitude linked here to the final shot of his final film, 1976’s Family Plot, which featured a wink to camera.
My Name Is Alfred Hitchcock is anything but chronological. Instead, it considers the movies and under six headed chapters concentrates in turn on particular aspects of his work. Thus the first of these is ‘Escape’ which touches on the number of his characters seeking to escape while also stressing the escape from the routine of their lives which Hitchcock consciously offered to the viewers. The sensual side of his work (those circling close-up shots of lovers!) comes up in ‘Desire’, while ‘Height’ deals with his use of high camera angles and ‘Time’ shows the impact possible by stretching out time (the slow detailed portrayal of the killing in Torn Curtain) while also bringing together Rebecca and Rope to illustrate the possibility of what could be described as double time (dialogue about a past event in the same setting is accompanied by camera movements which match what is being described thus vividly recreating the past in the present).
The chapter entitled ‘Fulfilment’ is more of a mixed bag but includes some of the comparatively rare references to Hitchcock’s life (his successful marriage to Alma Reville which, in addition to old photos, features present day shots of their homes in Surrey and in London). It also discusses the epiphany experienced by the James Stewart character in Rope using that word to describe it. But, even in the case of I Confess, it holds back from those debates about the extent to which Hitchcock, a Catholic, could indeed be described as a Catholic filmmaker. Perhaps the most unexpected chapter heading is ‘Loneliness’: admittedly there is a Miss Lonelyhearts in Rear Window but underlining the times when Hitchcock’s characters – not least some of his women – are shown to be lonely does rather take one by surprise. In contrast to that, one simply recognises how right it is that Cousins should have Hitchcock describing The Wrong Man as his most serious film.
Whether the notions expressed stem from outside knowledge (as could well be the case when the recording of street sounds at the end of Rope is described) or from Cousins knowing his subject so well (the famous camera withdrawal in Frenzy that replaces the visualisation of a harrowing dramatic scene is neatly compared to a trial verdict in Murder! that is heard indirectly from an adjoining room, a film shot forty-two years earlier), here is a film full of fascinating details. Given that the film lasts for almost two hours and crams in so many film extracts (even 1934’s Waltzes from Vienna is not excluded), it could well be that the ideal way of taking in all that is said would be from a two-part TV screening on successive evenings. However, there is a factor that challenges that idea. If one has previously been looking at many of Hitchcock’s works on television or on discs, it is positively striking how much more impactful they are when seen on a cinema screen. That is where I saw this film and, if possible, I would advise you to do the same.
MANSEL STIMPSON
Featuring the voices of Alistair McGowan and Mark Cousins.
Dir Mark Cousins, Pro John Archer, Screenplay Mark Cousins, Ph Mark Cousins, Ed Timo Langer, Music Donna McKevitt.
Hopscotch Films-Dogwoof Releasing.
118 mins. UK. 2022. UK Rel: 21 July 2023. Cert. 15.
