It it the simplest of misunderstandings that leads to one of the most perfectly chaotic action films ever made in Alfred Hitchcock’s North By Northwest. We’re no doubt all familiar with the tales of a Hitchcock approached by one Ian Fleming in the wake of the success of North By Northwest, so convinced that Hitch was the man for bringing his James Bond to the screen thanks to the calling card that was this 1959 film. It’s clear to see just why Fleming felt inspired to speak with Hitchcock: the MacGuffin driven action structure perfected here would prove to be the ideal cinematic match to Fleming’s creation, and it probably wouldn’t be unfair to say that the general structure of North By Northwest was mimicked in a great deal of the early Bond films by the likes of  Terence Young and Lewis Gilbert in the early Bond films. While structurally Hitchcock’s movie might have much in common with the Bond series, the same cant be said of the actual content. The protagonist here in North By Northwest is but a regular guy, an ad-man from New York City, with the aforementioned “simple misunderstanding” leading our everyman on the grandest of journeys. It’s the pre-eminent of Hitch’s “Wrong Man movies, standing alongside (and slightly above) films like 1942′s Saboteur and 1972′s Frenzy. 

The plot of the film is so well known that it almost seems extraneous to surmise it, but for the sake of clarity here goes. Successful advertising executive Roger Thornhill (Cary Grant) is mistaken for a man named ‘George Kaplan’, a figure who has provoked the wrath of foreign spy Phillip Vandamm (James Mason). A game of cat and mouse ensues, with the latter and his henchmen and compadres chasing Thornhill across America. That most perfect of spy film MacGuffin, microfilm makes an appearance, and while the plot is little more than an excuse to jump from action sequence to action sequence it remains as engaging as any plot directors oeuvre. And what action sequences the film contains! While the crop-duster sequence and Mount Rushmore are most fondly remembered, its a scene early on in the film that remains our favourite, in which a drunken Thornhill partakes in a night time car chase while under the influence. It’s chaotic, immersive and masterfully constructed, and sorely underrated next to it’s showier brethren. (Although to be fair it is quite easy to forget just how magnificent an achievement the crop-duster scene is in itself, with the wordless set-up a masterclass in staging, playing out like Leone in Norton & Sons of London). 

While it might be most fondly remembered for its use of action, the opening credits of North By Northwest, courtesy of legendary titler Saul Bass are also one of its most often cited aspects. It’s generally recognised that North By Northwest was the first movie to make extensive use of kinetic typography, aka – animated text. The delineated image of green coats everything, from the office block that the film opens in through to a specially manipulated MGM logo, and fades to reveal the manner in which the “real world” exists underneath Hitchcock and Bass’ stylisation (as the green veneer/curtain fades away as the credits progress and we slowly head “downstairs” to the chaos of the city), again tying in to the Brechtian elements outlined above. Bernard Herrmann’s bombast score accompanies, setting out its intentions during the opening moments.

Its notable that the film often declared to be the most Hitchcockian of his oeuvre came from a creative drought. North By Northwest sees the director at his wittiest, his most playful, and at his most unbearably tense. It’s a masterwork of mid-20th Century Hollywood cinema, and remains an utter breeze over 50 years on from its original release. 

Eureka Entertainment’s Masters Of Cinema series, the UK’s finest home video label recently released Alfred Hitchcock’s Lifeboat on Blu-ray. Here are a few brief thoughts on the film to tie-in with #HitchLies24. 

1. Stylistically speaking Lifeboat begins where Shadow Of A Doubt left off. The blaring noise of the last chimney of the sinking ship, coupled with a booming score from Hugo Friedhofer that follows in the tradition of Dimitri Tiomkin’s work on Shadow Of A Doubt. The overlaying of diegetic music with the sound of chaos recalls the use of sound in the earlier film too. Friedhofer worked on the music for a number of greats, with Fritz Lang’s You Only Live Once, Michael Curtiz’s Casablanca and John Ford’s How Green Was My Valley just a few of the films that feature on his CV. The film itself feels like an interesting diversion from Shadow Of A Doubt, and indeed Hitchcock’s work in general. It plays out like an episode of the Twilight Zone in some ways, although where it does feel most familiar is in the moral tale at the heart of the movie.

2. One performance nigh on overshadows the rest. Of course we are talking about Tallulah Bankhead who went on to win the New York Film Critics Circle Award for “Best Actress” for her performance here. With her perfect coiffure, aghast at the site of a pull in her stockings Bankhead’s Connie Porter is the archetypical (and literal) fish out of water when we see the film open, with the character undergoing a significant change over the course of the film. Hume Cronyn from Shadow Of A Doubt returns to work under Hitchcock in a very different performance than that of the previous film too, while Canada Lee, the actor most famous for his turn as Orson Welles’ “Voodoo” Macbeth also makes an appearance.

3. Lifeboat is a spectacular example of set design, and controlled space. While Hitchcock was rather fond of the limited scenario, none posed quite as big a problem as Lifeboat. Not only is it an extremely confined space but it features a relatively large cast.

4. The film features the single best Hitchcock cameo. No image defines the walk-on cameo better than the sight of Hitchcock stumbling in to view in the background of a scene, yet Lifeboat, with it’s incredibly limited setting posed a problem: just how would the filmmaker make his obligatory appearance? The quandary was solved in ingenious fashion thanks to a well placed newspaper advert promoting an “obesity slayer”. The directors self-depreciating humour shines through.

5. The film is heavily cine-literate. A camera viewfinder is used by Bankhead to identify another figure as the film opens, Hitchcock reminding his audience that what they are witnessing is a constructed reality from the off. It’s interesting that the camera is soon abandoned to the sea, with the film ultimately feeling more like allegory than propaganda in this respect. 

Anyone who has studied cinema is likely to be familiar with Shadow Of A Doubt: Alfred Hitchcock’s 1943 film is the lead study in Bordwell and Thompson’s ‘Film Art – An Introduction’, with the opening section of the book relying upon the Hickcock film to introduce a number of key film theory ideas. The film itself tells the story of the return of a nefarious uncle to the bosom of his warm-hearted out-west family, the man on the run from a menace implied in the films opening moments. Joseph Cotten is the man, who goes by the name of Charlie Oakley and is quite the departure from the roles the actor is most fondly remembered for. Teresa Wright is the co-lead, as the named-for niece of Charlie, Charlotte Newton. While initially liberated by the sudden arrival of her uncle, Charlotte’s excitement soon turns to suspicion, that greatest of Hitchcock feelings, and the situation spirals out of control.

Shadow Of A Doubt opens with an image that David Lynch would pay homage to some years later with the opening moments of Mulholland Dr., as a group of people dance while the “Merry Widow” waltz plays out. As is the case with the Lynch film, Shadow Of A Doubt is a movies movie, a post-modern exercise that dissects the medium from the inside out. We cut from the credits to the far less glamourous sight of a Philadelphia brownstone, presented by way of a dutch angle, before meeting Uncle Charlie who is laying uneasily still in the middle of a bed (an image that would later be recalled as his namesake sits in a similar state). As the landlady of the abode pulls down the window blind it recalls a coffin closing, our vampire put to rest. The diegetic score, provided by an orchestra is already huge and only builds further and higher as the sequence progresses. One understands immediately that something is not right here, with the subdued climax being the first of many such instances of this kind of behaviour in the film. Sound is one of the key traits of Shadow Of A Doubt, and one of the most powerful devices employed here by Hitchcock. Shadow Of A Doubt is a noisy film in general, with the chatter of kids, the sound of traffic and the various noises produced by the locomotive making for a packed sound track. The recurrent image of the dancers is brought to centre-stage again as the film closes, with the sight of the waltz being played out as Charlie falls to his death, and while its not literally spoken one cannot help but think of Uncle Charlie’s earlier insistence that “The whole world’s a joke to me” as he falls victim to fate. It’s a brutal end to a work far ahead of its time. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

One of my favourite things about the work of Alfred Hitchcock is his ability to present space and place. The San Francisco of Vertigo feels like a real city, the slow driving sequences expanding the scope of the locale impressively. And thats without even mentioning the single-location worlds of Rear Window, Rope and Lifeboat. Hitchcock’s playground for Shadow Of A Doubt is the perfect idyll of Santa Rosa, a location defined by its white picket fences and modest yet familiar town square. One particularly memorable sequence involves Charlotte in a mad dash across the town to the library, hoping to reach it before it closes for the day. The scene is presented almost in real-time with the diegetic music building in the fashion of a scene from a love story, as a besotted pair chart city and landscape in an attempt to be reacquainted.The geography of the town is matched by that of the house, one in which there are an unusual number of exits, including one from the top floor of the residence. While no doubt common place at the time of the films production, and lending a hand in creating some dramatic tension, this use of space serves well as an analogy for the burgeoning family unit, with the on-set of adolescence leading to fractured relations between parent and child. The family is clearly a key theme within Hitchcock’s work, with the  directors own warm relationship with his family (as detailed in Patrick McGilligan’s landmark biography of the man) played against by many of those familiar relationships he presents on screen.

For more #HitchLies24 please click here.  

 

The next three days at Hope Lies at Hope Lies at 24 Frames Per Second are going to be a veritable Hitchcock fest! In keeping with the aforementioned Film Preservation Blogathon that we trailed a couple of days ago we’ll be launching a three-day celebration of the work of the Master Of Suspense in the next couple of hours with a piece on Shadow Of A Doubt. That will soon be followed later this evening with an examination of another of his early Hollywood features Lifeboat. Tomorrow it’s North By Northwest thats coming under scrutiny, possibly via tweet-along, before we close on Sunday with the early British double-bill of The Lady Vanishes and the first version of The Man Who Knew Too Much.

We’ll also be putting together a special Hitchcock Monograph that will be available on Sunday evening, collating all of the articles from across the weekend, and maybe an exclusive or two.

Follow us on Twitter via the #tag #HitchLies24 over the next few days for live updates. Please remember that this project is all in aid of raising money for the National Film Preservation Foundation, for further details see HERE. 

Yes, we know that the martial art at the heart of Gareth Evans’ The Raid is not jujutsu, but “every junkie knows Pencak Silat” just didn’t have the same ring to it, so please excuse the indulgence.

You’ve probably heard about The Raid. We joked in our preview of the Bradford Film Festival that it was bona-fide official blogger law that one must be excited for the Indonesian action flick du jour, lest thee be prepared to hand in thy badge. And while we missed it at Bradford (just as we did at an earlier press screening: third times a charm) it was difficult to avoid the glow of the film at the festival itself, with many of those who did make it to the film heavily won over by it. 

One has to admit to spending much of the first act of the film attempting to figure out just what it was that it was that the many and vocal fans of The Raid saw in the film. I couldn’t help but question just what it is that separated this from any number of B-movies or DTV shlock Asiana-infused action flicks that sell for £3 and fill the shelves of made-up supermarket DVD charts up and down the land. And then it struck me. Iko Uwais is what separates The Raid from the rest of the pack. As the character comes in to his own in the movie, once his teammates have been picked off one by one, Uwais steps forth and pretty much redefines the action film genre. Catch him now before he follows Messrs. Li, Waltz and Dujardin in to Hollywood’s pit of foreign villain cliche.

The film opens with a heavily symbolic scenario playing out. An early morning training montage cuts between a shots of a punchbag and the image of a pregnant woman, and between the sight of a gun sitting next to a watch and of a man doing various exercise routines. This three minute sequence tells us everything we know: the protagonist (the man) is preparing for something that will involve his hones skills and a gun, and he has a burgeoning family at home. He has something to lose. All the while the sound of the watch ticking scores the frenetic sequence. A cryptic line opens the dialogue track of the film, and closes the scene, as our hero promises a third figure that he will “bring him back”, quite literally cementing the notion that “this time it’s personal” very early on. 

The Raid revolves around just that: a raid on a tower block controlled by a local crime lord. As a part of a crew of 21 SWAT-team-alikes our protagonist must reach the top level and take the bad guy in to custody. But it’s not that easy. The tower block is home to all manner of non-desirable, from the aforementioned junkies to local gang-bangers and illegal pharmacists producing drugs, with countless of them standing between the SWAT team and the top floor. Knees, knives, batons and walls all play their parts in securing our heroes path, as they make their way through a veritable hive of horror.

There are problems with the film. At times it’s staggeringly ugly. It bears the hangover of a soft focus, straight-to-video flick from the heyday of that particular movement, and while one suspects that that is very much the look that Evans was aiming for, it remains difficult to go along with it. The relentless on-screen scenario is scored to a woeful 90′s techno thriller soundtrack grates too as do some aspects of the sound design in general (the entire film is undercut by a hissing sound: it quite literally sounds like someone has left the gas on), yet in spite of these issues The Raid is an undeniably exciting piece of cinema.

Looking for somewhere to enjoy streaming movies but want to keep it legal and not receive a load of spam? Well DVD rental company LOVEFiLM now offer an online streaming service as part of their package.

This week Eastern Premise places Uniform, the directorial debut from Chinese screenwriter Diao Yinan under the spotlight. Zhi Fu, otherwise known as Uniform, is just that, a tale of a by chance clothing finding that opens up a realm of new possibilities to its new owner.

China has not been a regular stopover on our travels so far and that’s not through choice but rather a lack of worthwhile films. I can recall the optimism and excitement surrounding Zhang Yimou’s Red Sorghum and Ju Dou in the late 1980’s and the works of other 5^th Generation directors. At last China was wrestling free from the shackles of central government control and grasping the medium of film. In my opinion, this generation and the next did not truly break free and instead new measures and partnerships stifled true expression. Whereas the 5^th focused on village and the harsh realities of rural life, the 6^th generation migrated just like the Chinese youth towards the sprawling urban cities of new China and mass production.

For all its financial clout and growing influence in film, China’s output can at times consistently disappoint. I’ve endured several epic historical clashes of late, powered by vast budgets, hundreds of extras, expertly filmed and choreographed, yet they lack substance; a heart and soul, becoming instantly forgettable. Occasionally a worthwhile film does appear and more than often not, from an unexpected source, often outside the influence of the ruling powers. Such was the case with Uniform, released in 2003.

Jia Zhangke’s 24 City took the mock-documentary approach to what the ‘Made in China’ label actually means to its workers, whereas Uniform approaches this era from a whole new perspective, cataloguing the disillusionment with what China is becoming. Set in China’s Shaanxi Province, this area is a real-life hotbed of fossil fuel and technology production. The competition is fierce for corporate success and those seeking employment within such facilities. What might seem like an unskilled job of little importance can in this environment be a financial lifeline for the employee and their family. Even China is not immune to the winds of consumerism and when two factories are forced to merge into a textile equivalent, this causes a great deal of local fallout, pain and suffering. Amidst this sense of redundancy we are introduced to Xiao Jian, a street tailor who works from a small stall, repairing, making adjustments and laundering clothes.

Jian is fortunate to have such practical skills, but with his unemployed father’s health dwindling, the pressure is on his shoulders to support the family and meet the growing medical bills. With the hostile merger very much in the forefront of the minds of the area’s inhabitants, tailoring work beings to dry up as residents become more financially aware. This is a trait we can all identify with in our own current economic climate. Jian takes stock of his options and almost by accident, decides to take advantage of an unclaimed laundered police uniform with dramatic results.

At first he dons this alternate persona for a bit of fun and dishing out instantly payable traffic fines, taking sweet revenge on the types who have irritated him over the years. As more opportunities present themselves, Jian finds it harder to resist and loses himself to the uniform. From a relative nobody, the uniform transforms in much the same way as a superhero costume. A constant theme is one of pollution; factories and engines operate regardless of emission constraints. Jian uses this as a regular device to fine drivers on the spot; unbeknown to Jian, the actual pollution is within as slowly he succumbs to the uniform. Provincial corruption is seems is widespread in China whether its party members, government employees or policemen; everyone can benefit from their enhanced status. An added bonus for Jian is the effect the uniform seems to have on the opposite sex particularly Zheng Shasha, a local CD store worker. This unlikely relationship is one of deceit on both sides and is suggestive of the struggle to survive in this expanding society.

Diano Yi-nan may have started in film as a screenwriter for directors such as Zhang Yang and Shi Runjiu but his debut film confirms a talented director in the making. Shot digitally, Uniform is blessed with a clarity and sharpness of vision that this format can snare and enhance. Technicolor backdrops are evident throughout proceedings; even for the most mundane of scenes there is an explosion of colour and a confidence in placement and lighting. This rush on the senses takes us, or for me at least, to Kar Wai Wong’s stunningly visual and adorable Chungking Express. Wong may have had the characteristic collision of cultures in Hong Kong to call upon and in comparison Yi-nan prises far more visuality from an alien, decaying industrial setting.

Axion Films put together a decent package for the UK DVD release of Uniform including an excellent transfer. The low budget and independent origins of the film itself explains the lack of available additional materials, so while the only DVD extra is an interview with the director, this is theoretically most likely all that could be included. A worthwhile addition is a well presented limited edition booklet that is of a Masters of Cinema standard. Whatever Chinese generation, films that have a true voice are few and far between. Uniform remains a film that deserves to be seen.

Film Clash is back, with an episode which tackles Tim Burton’s Dark Shadows, the Duplass Brothers’ Jeff, Who Lives At Home. Elsewhere Ali talks about his kids, Adam brings up the great Mumsnet Center Parcs conspiracy and a new challenge revolving around Bordwell and Thompson’s Film Art: An Introduction is born. It’s a fantastic 45-minutes. 

Listen Now:

Click here to be taken to iTunes.  iTunes may take a couple of hours to update, so apologies if the latest episode isn’t available there just yet.

Click on the picture below to check out this week’s show here at Hope Lies.

As always, thanks for listening, and please feel to leave feedback whenever and wherever you possibly can! iTunes reviews are appreciated, and we can be found on twitter (@filmclashUk) and on Facebook.

Due to iTunes policy of not publishing books below a certain length we’ve had to adapt the Monograph format a little bit. Yes, technically they’re not actually Monographs anymore, but we like to think of the supplementary material as just that, an extra, a bonus, something extra to sink your teeth in to. To mark what has been a rather remarkable opening six months of the year we’ve collated essays on three of the finest films that the arthouse has had to offer over. First up, and headlining this Monograph is Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s Once Upon A Time In Anatolia, while the Dardenne brothers The Kid With A Bike and Jafar Panahi and Mojtaba Mirtahmasb’s This Is Not A Film. The latter is a reprint of the very first edition of the Monograph’s, which wasn’t long enough for iTunes’ liking, so in a way this is both a retcon of M#1 and M#3. To complicate matters no further the next Monograph will be Monograph #4. 

This edition of the Monographs should be available from iTunes shortly. To download the iPad enhanced edition now of this Monograph click HERE to be taken to Rapidshare. Install on to your iPad using iTunes. Alternatively, you could view the PDF version linked below directly on your iPad, albeit losing some of the iPad-enhancements in the process!  If you’re having trouble manually adding an iBook to your iPad please see the article linked HERE. 

To download the PDF version of this Monograph please click HERE to read it online. If viewing on a tablet computer/mobile phone then your device will no doubt prompt you to download from within the webpage. Alternative you can drag the PDF to your desktop. 

A couple of high profile discs see release this week, alongside a number of curiosities and one bona-fide nonsense.

Disc Of The Week

Shame – We were positively smitten with Steve McQueen’s Hunger follow-up whence we caught it at last years London Film Festival. The tale of sex addiction played out upon a greater canvas of familiar relationships and one mans place in a bustling metropolis sat comfortably in our top ten of 2011.

Hadewijch – Speaking of our top ten of 2011, Bruno Dumont’s Hors Satan made it even higher than Shame, placing at number four. While 2012 has seen theatrical release for that film its also seen a belated release for this 2010 film too. For our money Dumont remains France’s finest contemporary filmmaker.

The Divide – Xavier Gens made his name with 2007′s Frontier(s), a horrible film cited by some to be a part of an important sub-print of French torture porn headlined by Martyrs and underwritten by flicks like Switchblade Romance. As such, Gens’ work has never really appealed to us, but there’s something about the concept of The Divide, which sees a band of survivors gather together underground in the wake of an apocalyptic event.

Forbidden Zone – A feature-film adaptation of an Oingo Boingo live show, Forbidden Zone is directed by Richard “brother of Danny” Elfman. It’s probably safe to assume that the extras package for this Arrow Video special edition are solid enough.

Osombie – File away under “what the fuck?”.

May 13th thru 18th marks the week long Film Preservation Blogathon, and Hope Lies at 24 Frames Per Second is proud to be involved. The whole thing is in honour of the National Film Preservation Foundation, and over 100 bloggers and writers are said to be involved. This years Blogathon revolves around the work of Alfred Hitchcock. 

To mark the event we’ll be doing a number of articles to tie-in with and promote the cause, including a long-overdue look at North By Northwest, a piece on Shadow Of A Doubt and an examination of last month’s Lifeboat Blu-ray release. On a related classics-based note we’ll also be conducting a Chaplin shorts live-blog too. 

A button will be placed at the bottom of each article produced for the blogathon, click on it to be taken to the NFPF’s donation site. All profits go towards paying for Graham Cutts’s The White Shadow to be screened online FOR FREE for four whole months. The film marked the major creative debut of Hitch, so for it to make an appearance in a year that is very much dominated by the Master Of Suspense is perfectly apt. 

Check out Self-Styled Siren, This Island Rod and Ferdy On Films for further information and a wealth of articles dedicated to the cause.