The simplistic title Hitchcock implies something more expansive than the filmmakers deliver – or even intended. This isn’t the English phenom who intrigued audiences with The 39 Steps or The Lady Vanishes, nor the Hollywood titan who cemented his fame with Strangers on a Train or Rear Window. It’s 1959, and though enjoying the success of his latest debut, North by Northwest, the now legendary director Alfred Hitchcock (Anthony Hopkins) is bored. And he wants something different – really different. But his passion to adapt Psycho, the Robert Bloch novel about real-life serial killer Ed Gein, is greeted with incredulity and doubt by his studio bosses, censors, and even his wife and lifelong creative partner Alma Reville (Helen Mirren).
As Hitchcock doggedly slogs forward, you begin to appreciate that this isn’t a story about the making of Psycho the movie. The real focus is the enduring strength of Alfred and Alma’s creative collaboration. They’d already been married some four decades before Psycho came along, and as his co-author and film editor, her contributions were frequently credited as having elevated struggling films. But like her famous husband, Alma too is bored and decides to pursue an independent collaboration with writer Whitfield Cook at his beachhouse. Hitch’s suspicions of infidelity and Alma’s anger at his lack of faith in her – not to mention his financing the flick using their home as collateral – is the emotional core of the film.
No matter how dark or perverse an Alfred Hitchcock film gets, there’s always a droll undercurrent. The filmmakers try to imbue Hitchcock with a bit of that, with references to his famous TV series. Or Hitch’s hallucinations and dreams featuring the real Ed Gein, who hounds him about the film’s details and fans his jealousies. A snarky double entendre here, a lecherous peek into an actress’s dressing room there. It sometimes feels more like a coffee table book than a movie. Flip to the next scene/page. More trivia.
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Who is Hitchcock made for?
It’s not for Hitchcock novices seeking some insight into the movie that literally invented the modern horror genre. Sure, it’s entertaining to see Hitch spar with censors and launch an innovative marketing campaign when the distributor tries to bury the film. But exaggerations for dramatic effect mask rather than illuminate the master’s craft. Best example: the filming of the (in)famous shower scene. Though spectacularly acted by Hopkins, the action implies it happened in a single take, with Hitch angrily taking up the knife himself to orchestrate the viciousness of the stabbing. One doesn’t come away with a full appreciation of the seven days of shooting and meticulous editing that produced those iconic 45 seconds.
Nor is it for Hitchcock aficionados, who will cringe at this sanitized version of a man with creepy obsessions and a mean sense of humor. Even the love story has a hole in it. If Alfred and Alma were such lifelong soul mates, why not mention they had a daughter, Patricia, who appeared in several of their films (alas, to largely negative notice)?
So who is Hitchcock for? Fans of Hopkins and Mirren, of course. These veterans are as always a delight to watch. Mirren in particular picked up several “best actress” nods during awards season.
Also notable: Scarlett Johansen as Janet Leigh, who is lit and filmed in a manner that is the very definition of that old-style Hollywood concept of “radiance.” James D’Arcy as an earnest and delicate Anthony Perkins. Toni Collette as the devoted assistant Peggy Robertson.
What’s on next for Hitch at the end? That raven on his shoulder provides a clue.