The apocalyptic black flurry of birds viciously pecking at Tippi Hedren’s nest of platinum hair. The crop duster careening towards Cary Grant with an almost animalistic bloodlust. And of course, Norman Bates stabbing Marion Crane in the shower. These are all iconic scenes by the master of suspense himself — Alfred Hitchcock.
Despite passing away 45 years ago, Hitchcock’s long and prolific career in American cinema begets a slew of spinoffs, reboots, and copycats even today (Bates Motel, anyone?). It’s hard to believe his first solo project was released exactly 100 years ago, especially because many of his movies feel timeless. But, with an impressively dense filmography of over fifty feature films, diving into his filmography can be pretty daunting.
Where should you start? Which movies are must-sees, and what can be skipped over? Are the classics worth the hype? In honor of “spooky season” being officially upon us, I’ve compiled a ranked list of 10 Alfred Hitchcock essentials to watch in October (or any time of year, for that matter).
10. Strangers On A Train (1951)
Would you kill for somebody you hardly know?
Strangers on a Train opens in medias res with two men having what appears to be a rather tongue-in-cheek conversation about “swapping murders” in their train car. When minor tennis celebrity, Guy Haines confesses to psychopath Bruno Antony that he wants to divorce his wife, Antony invents a tantalizing scenario that initially strikes Haines as nothing more than a dark hypothetical: If Antony kills Haines’s wife—and Haines kills Antony’s father in return—they’d both rid themselves of their problems without the police ever suspecting one another.
To this Haines jocularly agrees, but quickly finds himself in over his head when Antony calls to announce he actually killed his wife. Uh-oh. And as Antony incessantly pressures Haines to hold up his end of the deal, things spiral out of control.
This all makes for an interesting premise (and don’t get me wrong, it is). Strangers on a Train is one of many instances of Hitchcock examining the psychology of the individual to make sense of what would logically drive a sane man to commit murder. The issue here — and why this movie is so low on this list — is that Hitchcock does a better job exploring this idea in some of his other films. Not only that, but he does it with more compelling protagonists than Haines. In my opinion, Haines doesn’t have enough meat on his bones to be the movie’s main character; he’s more defined by his circumstances than his personality, which makes him rather bland.
Ultimately, Strangers on a Train is a fast-paced romp that pairs perfectly with a bag of buttered popcorn, but it pales in comparison to Hitchcock’s more polished masterpieces. It crescendos with a great final scene on a carousel, but everything leading up to that point is rather tame. Fun, but admittedly forgettable.
9. Spellbound (1945)
The reason I love Spellbound is because it’s one of the few Hitchcock films with a strong female lead. In this movie, Ingrid Bergman plays Dr. Constance Peterson, a psychoanalyst at a mental institution working to piece together the confounding circumstances surrounding her colleague, Dr. Anthony Edwardes’s, amnesia. He only knows two things about himself: 1) that he may have killed someone, and 2), that he suffers acute spells of paranoia when he sees two parallel lines on a white background. After admitting this to Constance, the pair set out to uncover Edwardes’s real identity, but things get complicated when they begin to fall for one another.
Spellbound works in a lot of ways, but falls short in other aspects. Igrid Bergman and Gregory Peck are fantastic (both power players of this era), but their on-screen romance feels uncomfortably stilted and forced. I found myself rolling my eyes whenever they shared a tender moment — it always seemed to break the rhythm of the investigation and made the film’s pacing rather clunky. But one thing I really love is a particular scene where Edwardes climbs a spiral staircase after fetching a glass of milk (there’s something to be said about milk’s historic connotations with innocence, but that’s a topic for another day). He’s in a semi-conscious trance, walking up the stairs in the dark with the cadence of a robot, while the moonlight pouring in from the window draws a sharp contrast between the deep shadows and the brightness of the milk. This makes the glass appear luminescent, almost as if it’s floating in midair. Purely from an aesthetic standpoint, it’s a beautiful scene.
Overall, I wish Spellbound was focused more on the mystery and less on the romance—and that Peck’s character was more haunted by his flashbacks. But if you love Christopher Nolan’s Memento (2000), there’s a good chance you’ll love this film.
8. Frenzy (1972)
Frenzy is an interesting movie for a few reasons. Not only was it Hitchcock’s “comeback film” after a slew of failed attempts to recapture his magic touch, but it was also the first movie he made after the Hays Code was abolished. No longer barred by censorship rules, Hitchcock had the freedom to get grittier than ever before. In a way Frenzy feels like the precursor to the darker, slimier, character-driven dramas of the 70s like Taxi Driver (1976) and The Conversation (1974).
Plot-wise, this film is very simple: down-on-his luck businessman Richard Blaney is inadvertently mistaken for a crazed woman-killer who strangles his victims with neckties, and as a result, is forced to go into hiding to evade the police.
While this movie may fall into the classic “wrong man” trope Hitchcock always seems to have a penchant for, it operates at a level above the usual melodrama. Maybe it’s because everyone’s scruffy and filthy and a little bit depraved, or the fact that we see violence depicted through the unflinching eye of the camera lens in a way that wouldn’t have been permissible just a few years prior.
And what’s ironic is that all of these things make the singular murder that does happen off-screen even more sinister; the audience is forced to stare at the exterior of an unassuming office building and listen to the humdrum of daily life whirring nearby all whilst knowing a woman is being strangled behind those very walls.
7. North By Northwest (1959)
North by Northwest is a high-octane, Bond-esque action thriller that feels like a direct blueprint for 60’s spy blockbusters like Point Blank and the era of 007 ushered in by Sean Connery just three years later. It has all the quintessential elements: kidnapping, murder, breaking-and-entering, a ruggedly handsome leading man, friction created by a secret government agency, and of course, totally electric set pieces.
For many, this movie is most synonymous with Cary Grant’s character, Roger Thornhill, being rundown by an enemy biplane in the middle of an empty cornfield (hence the poster for the film)—or perhaps the kinetic final chase where he and his costar, Eve Kendall, precariously shimmy down the face of Mount Rushmore to escape their pursuers.
Although this movie isn’t scary in any way, it’s an excellent example of Hitchcock doing what he does best: being a masterclass in suspense. North by Northwest is constantly throwing hurdles against Thornhill, seldom allowing him to come up for air — and as a result, placing the audience on the edges of their seats with little room to pause and take a breath. Just when one crisis is averted, another one pops up to test Thornhill’s tenacity. Although there’s not much going on under the surface of this film in terms of deeper themes, that doesn’t mean it’s hollow in any way. North by Northwest is a blast, through and through.
6. Dial M For Murder (1954)
Is there such a thing as the perfect crime? A mathematical equation for a flawless murder?
That’s the question English aristocrat Tony Wendice sets out to answer. Vengeful and jilted by his cheating wife, Margot, Wendice recruits an old acquaintance to aid and abet him in a plot to have Margot killed. The crime is so meticulously planned out—even down to the exact minute his wife is supposed to be murdered—but what both men failed to account for was Margot’s will to live. In an unexpected turn of events, she stabs Wendice’s friend in an act of self-defense. Now what?
Dial M for Murder is a standout film from Alfred Hitchcock’s heyday; he really seemed to hit his stride in the 1950s, with this movie solidifying his place as a household name in the thriller department. We quickly find ourselves rooting for Margot’s secret lover, dime-store pulp novelist Mark Halliday, as he works with police to try and crack the case.
He’s an unflappable character — someone you want to see succeed — and I found myself cheering the closer he came to finding a clue. It felt like playing a one-sided game of hot-and-cold with Margot and Halliday, especially when the truth was coquettishly hiding right under their noses—and in this case, I mean that literally (for God’s sake, just look under the staircase carpet!).
5. The Birds (1963)
What does a furious swarm of birds represent? Death? A plague? Do they portend doom? Are they a karmic force that kills off the morally reprehensible? Or maybe they don’t symbolize anything at all — maybe The Birds is Hitchcock’s version of creature feature, a simple movie about an evil flock of flying seagulls. I’ll never really know.
But one thing I do know is that this film is unsettling. The constant, looming threat of a gull attack makes for a grim, ominous — and at times, abstract — 120 minutes. It’s about socialite Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedren) falling for lawyer Mitch Brenner after inquiring about two lovebirds at a pet store as a gift for Melanie’s kid sister’s birthday. When he ultimately decides not to buy them, Daniels purchases the birds herself and travels to Mitch’s house on a small island called Bodega Bay to deliver the gift. On the way, she’s pecked by a single seagull.
Fast-forward thirty minutes and the entire Bodega Bay community is inundated by birds swooping down like kamikaze fighter jets, intent on killing anything that screams.
I love the way the bird attacks feel like natural disasters. In one scene, for example, Mitch, Daniels, and her little sister are ravaged by gulls inside their cabin. Windows are shattered, doors splinter open, feathers spew out of the fireplace, and the entire home shakes on its foundation. It feels like they just experienced a tornado. In another scene, Daniels and a bunch of school children feverishly try to outrun another swarm of birds, ducking and covering their heads in the same way one would try to escape a thunderstorm.
4. Vertigo (1958)
Vertigo is a brilliant nightmare. It’s a tale of obsession, an exploration of desire, a suffocating dream we can’t seem to escape. Not only does this movie feature two all-stars (Jimmy Stewart and Kim Novak!) but it’s also gorgeously shot.
Here’s the lowdown: retired detective Scottie Ferguson is cajoled back into service when an old friend asks him to tail his wife, Madeleine, after claiming she’s been acting strangely. Ferguson, who suffers from crippling vertigo spells, obliges and promptly falls in love with Madeleine — who turns out to be…not Madeleine at all.
The plot of this movie is less important that the overall feel of the film; there’s an intangible dreamlike quality to the whole thing; it almost reminds me of something David Lynch would create if he was making movies in the 50s. Vertigo’s rich, vibrant color palette, combined with the soft, hazy fringe that envelops Madeline like a halo, turn her into more of an idealized concept than an actual person. There’s a lot brewing underneath the surface of this film, but even if you don’t want to seek a deeper meaning, it’s simply gorgeous to look at.
3. Psycho (1960)
Horror wouldn’t be horror without Bernard Hermann’s shrill staccato score that helped memorialize Psycho for generations to come. Arguably Hitchcock’s most famous movie, I’m sure you already know what it’s about so I’m going to refrain from summarizing.
There are a million and one things to praise about this film, but what really stands out to me is Anthony Perkins’s performance as Norman Bates. He embodies the maniacal emptiness of the character to an almost uncanny degree; despite the cheesy rear-projection driving and a few other antiquated movie tricks, Bates is uncomfortably real—it reminds me of Christian Bale’s unhinged portrayal of Patrick Bateman in American Psycho. The acting is just a little too convincing for comfort.
And I’d be remiss not to mention the infamous shower scene. Hitchcock is deceptively crafty here. Even whilst abiding by censorship regulations, he still manages to show us what it would be like to be murdered in our most vulnerable state (naked and alone) in a way that’s up close and personal—in a way that still makes us squirm even if we don’t actually see Bates’ knife penetrate flesh. The blood circling the shower drain is all we need to, uh, get the picture.
2. Rope (1948)
Placing Rope this high on a list of 10 Alfred Hitchcock essentials may ruffle a few feathers, but I truly think it’s an underrated gem. With such a barebones plot and a skimpy 82-minute runtime, it’s amazing what this movie can pull off. There’s no action, no flashy setpieces, and the whole film is confined to what’s essentially a singular, static room. All people do is talk. So how can Rope possibly be interesting?
The answer is because it’s chock-full of tension. Brandon Shaw and his obsequious friend, Philip Morgan (who are totally gay for each other, by the way), murder their colleague and hide his body in an ottoman right before a dinner party. They then spend the next hour and twenty minutes trying to pretend everything is normal (spoiler alert, they fail).
Every time someone hovered over the body, I got nervous. At a point people start eating on top of the dead man, for Christ’s sake (Shaw and Morgan had the brilliant idea of turning the ottoman into a buffet table)! Worse yet, every time Morgan comes within an inch of breaking down and telling the truth Shaw has to walk him off the precipice right in front of the crowd without raising suspicion. Morgan’s constantly on the verge of confessing, and it doesn’t help that Jimmy Stewart’s character has a rather shrewd eye. He knows something’s amiss—and it’s only a matter of time before he figures it out.
The more Stewart surmises, the more the tension builds. You suddenly don’t know who to root for (is Morgan really a bad person, or did he just get roped into this whole thing, no pun intended?) Because of this, Rope flies by at a breakneck pace. The epitome of suspense, it’s a nail-biter from start to end.
1. Rear Window (1954)
Rear Window is the culmination of all the Hitchcock-isms that have come to define his filmography, including yet another Jimmy Stewart lead.
Much like Rope, this juicy whodunnit is primarily confined to a single room. In this case, it’s the claustrophobic Greenwich Village apartment of photographer, L.B. Jefferies, who tries to stave away the ennui from a broken leg that left him wheelchair-bound. He does this by becoming the neighborhood voyeur, using his camera to peer through the windows of the building across the courtyard. Through this lens, we’re introduced to a myriad of side characters whose names and backgrounds remain a mystery—and what I appreciate is that Hitchcock manages to give each of them their own arc in between juggling the main plot of the film.
Anyway, Jefferies eventually becomes obsessed with a man named Thorwald, whom he believes murdered his wife and sent her mutilated body away in a suitcase. With the help of his maid, detective friend Tom Doyle, and girlfriend Lisa Freemont, Jefferies resolves to solve the mystery.
As I mentioned earlier, what’s great about Rear Window’s setup is that most of what we can glean about Thorwald is only through Jefferies’s point of view. Since we only know what he knows, it feels like the audience is solving the potential murder with him.
Not only is this fast-paced thriller dynamic and engaging from the jump, but the climax of the film includes a Chekov’s gun that goes off in the most satisfying way. Thorwald reveals himself and confronts Jefferies face-to-face—and I’ll leave it at that in case you haven’t seen the film.
So did he murder his wife? I don’t know, you’ll just have to watch Rear Window and find out.
2 Responses
Wonderful article, Sarah!
thank you!!