Hitchcock is hardly the first film to ever explore the rather neurotic personality and eccentric creative process of Alfred Hitchcock. In fact, there's another movie in HBO's
The Girl that explores much the same territory in a way that filmmaker as a creepy old letch lusting who simultaneously lusts for his blond starlets while taking glee in causing them distress. Thankfully, Sacha Gervasi, who last helmed the excellent rock doc
Anvil: The Story of Anvil, has chosen to go in a totally different direction with his film.
A devilishly entertaining behind-the-scenes glimpse at the making of a cinema classic, Hitchcock is based on Stephen Rebello's book,
Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho, and while it touches upon the director's many disturbing quirks, there's no desire to languish in them. Rather, we accept his failings as part of the whole that makes up one of the most fascinating minds in movie history.
But Hitchcock wouldn't be quite as much fun without Anthony Hopkins' uncanny performance, which isn't a rigid characterization so much as a creation all his own. The film is wildly speculative for the most part, so it makes sense to allow a bit of freedom in the way everyone is portrayed, and clearly Hopkins is relishing in the experience. The same can be said for Helen Mirren as Hitchcock's wife, Alma Reville, who shows her usual strength, poise, and cheeky humor as the woman who helped hold everything together. More than just his wife, she was his creative partner and the driving force for much of his greatest works. While Hitchcock and Alma's relationship difficulties are well- documented, screenwriter John McLaughlin dreams up a potential love triangle involving screenwriter Whitfield Cook(Danny Huston). Alma is eager to establish herself outside of Hitchcock's sphere, a prospect which drives him a little nuts. This particular part of the film dominates much of the story, which is unfortunate because it's the least interesting aspect because it's largely untrue. McLaughlin and Gervasi find the greatest success when detailing the personal and professional difficulties Hitchcock faced in getting
Psycho off the ground.
Set shortly after one of Hitchcock's greatest and most gaudy achievements,
North by Northwest, the director has hit a point where those critical folks in the Hollywood media are wondering if perhaps he should quit while he's ahead. Looking for inspiration and finding none in the usual stack of potential projects, he would ultimately discover fresh glee in
Psycho, Robert Bloch's novel on horrific murderer Ed Gein(Michael Wincott), who killed a few women but was most notable for his obsession with his mother, which only increased after her death. Through imagined conversations we see how Hitchcock sympathizes and even relates to Gein, getting into the mind of the killer.
Not everybody thought
Psycho would be a success, and the studio certainly wasn't expecting a straight and violent horror from the unquestioned master of suspense. Refusing to finance it, Hitchcock and Alma risked everything to foot the bill themselves, and the film is great at capturing the subtle pressures of such an undertaking. Every issue is amplified, from Hitchcock's concerns with actress Vera Miles(Jessica Biel) with whom he's had past problems, to the constant badgering by studio execs who seem anxious for the film to fail:
"Thank God we have 'Cinderfella' for the holidays!" While there was quite the initial uproar over the casting of Scarlett Johansson as Janet Leigh, she's fantastic as the actress who clearly admires Hitchcock while also being wary of his reputation. While we don't get to see him nearly enough, Brit actor James D'Arcy is a dead ringer for the shy and effeminate Anthony Perkins.
The casting is superb and inspired all the way around. Most of all, Hopkins and Mirren, who to the best of my knowledge have never been paired up before, have a remarkable lived-in chemistry that makes them a joy to watch.
Another in a recent trend of movies that celebrate the history and love of big Hollywood cinema, Hitchcock relishes in the details of such a major cinematic achievement. Unable to use any actual footage from
Psycho, we see the recreation of the iconic shower scene(along with Hitchcock's surprising brutality there), the director's demands of loyalty from his crew, and his gift for hyping his own projects.
Hitchcock isn't especially deep, but it's smart, whimsical, and nostalgic in a way that the similar
My Week with Marilyn failed to be. Gervasi, in his first narrative feature, has managed to transport us back to a time when movies were cherished. Hitchcock himself probably would have preferred a more macabre version of the story, but what we've got is a real pleasure.
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