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ALFRED HITCHCOCK'S
North by Northwest (1959; 136 mins.)
| PRINCIPAL CAST |
|
| actor |
role |
| Cary Grant |
Roger Thornhill |
| Eva Marie Saint |
Eve Kendall |
| James Mason |
Phillip Vandamm |
| Jesse Royal Landis |
Clara Thornhill |
| Leo G. Carroll |
Professor |
| Martin Landau |
Leonard, Vandamm's secretary |
| Philip Ober |
Lester Townsend |
| Adam Williams |
Valerian |
| Robert Ellenstein |
Licht |
| Philip Coolidge |
Dr. Cross |
| Ed Binns |
Captain Junket |
| Edward Platt |
Victor Larrabee |
| Les Tremayne |
Auctioneer |
| Patrick McVey |
Chicago Police Sergeant Flynn |
| Ken Lynch |
Chicago Police Officer Charlie |
| PRODUCTION CREDITS |
|
| Producer |
Alfred Hitchcock, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer |
| Associate Producer |
Herbet Coleman |
| Director |
Alfred Hitchcock |
| Original Scenario |
Ernest Lehman |
| Director of Photography |
Robert Burks |
| Production Designer |
Robert Boyle |
| Special Photographic Effects |
A. Arnold Gillespie and Lee LeBlanc |
| Sets |
Robert Boyle, William A. Horning, Merrill Pyle, Henry Grace,
and Frank McKelvey |
| Composer |
Bernard Herrmann |
| Editing |
George Tomasini |
| Title Design |
Saul Bass |
| Sound Engineer |
Frank Milton |
| Assistant Director |
Robert Saunders |
Director
Sir Alfred Hitchcock
(1899–1980) was born and raised in England. He began his
movie career in 1919, when he became an apprentice at Paramount's
Famous Players-Lasky studio, designing and illustrating title
cards and learning the basics of film production. In 1922, he
was promoted to assistant director; in 1925, he directed his first
film: The Pleasure Garden, a British-German production,
made in Munich. While he was in Germany, he absorbed the style
of German expressionism, which had a major influence on both the
thematic and the visual elements of his films. With The Lodger
(1926), the story of a family who mistakenly suspect their
roomer to be Jack the Ripper, Hitchcock created the unique genre—combining
thrills, suspense, sex, and humor—with which he was associated
throughout his career.
Hitchcock's fifty-six
films fall into two periods: those he made in England and those
he made after he moved to Hollywood in 1939. The classic thrillers
of the first period include The Lodger (1926), The
Man Who Knew Too Much (1934), The 39 Steps (1935),
Sabotage (1936), and The Lady Vanishes (1938).
Hitchcock's great Hollywood films—Rebecca (1940),
which won an Academy Award for best picture; Notorious
(1946); Strangers on a Train (1951); Rear Window
(1954); Vertigo (1958); North by Northwest
(1959); Psycho (1960); and The Birds
(1963)—stand far above his lesser achievements: Lifeboat
(1944), Stage Fright (1950), Dial M for Murder
(1954), To Catch a Thief (1955), the remake of
The Man Who Knew Too Much (1955), The Trouble with
Harry (1955), Marnie (1964), and Torn Curtain
(1966).
Hitchcock began producing his own
movies in 1948; produced, introduced, and sometimes directed several
popular American television series in the 1950s and '60s; and
lent his name to television anthologies of mystery stories. He
received the Academy's Irving G. Thalberg Memorial Award in 1968,
was given the American Film Institute's Life Achievement Award
in 1979, and was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II in 1980.[1]
art director
Robert Boyle (b. 1909)
was educated to be an architect. When the Great Depression prevented
him from finding steady work in that profession, he became a bit
player at RKO Studios. There, he grew fascinated with how movie
sets were created; realizing that his background in architecture
could help him build those sets, he introduced himself to Van
Nest Polglase, RKO's supervising art director. Polglase referred
him to Paramount Pictures, where he was hired by Hans Dreier,
the studio's supervising art director. Between 1933 and 1942,
Boyle worked as a sketch artist, draftsman, and assistant art
director. Architecture school proved excellent preparation for
the creation of traditional and modern backgrounds for filmmaking.
Before he begins to
design, Boyle studies the characters in the script, wanting to
know their educations, family backgrounds, and sexual orientations.
He says:
You have to know all this
before you can sit down with a pencil and start to draw. At one
point, it's your picture; you are the director. You can't design
a film if you don't work from the director's viewpoint. It's very
easy to make films that show off design. The problem is to exert
some discipline. Essentially, if we are worthy of the name production
designer, we are responsible for the main look of the environment
of the film. My concern is for interpreting the film.[2]
Boyle has designed
eighty-five movies, serving as production designer on thirty of
them and working with a range of directors that includes Douglas
Sirk (Mystery Submarine, 1950), J. Lee Thompson (Cape
Fear, 1962), Richard Brooks (In Cold Blood, 1967),
and William Richert (Winter Kills, 1979). He was nominated
for Academy Awards for art direction–set decoration for
North by Northwest, Norman Jewison's Gaily, Gaily
(1969) and Fiddler on the Roof (1971), and Don
Siegel's The Shootist (1976). Working with Boyle on
North by Northwest was Ben Carré, a French painter
of scenic backdrops, who left France for Hollywood in 1912 and
became famous through his work on dozens of Hollywood films, including
The Wizard of Oz (1939).
title
As strange as it may
seem, one of Shakespeare's most solemn plays, Hamlet,
may have inspired the title one of Hitchcock's most comic thrillers,
North by Northwest. In the play, some members of the
Danish court think that his father's death and his mother's marriage
to his uncle have driven Prince Hamlet mad. Hamlet may be faking
madness, however, to trap his new stepfather, who he knows has
murdered his father. "I am but mad north-north-west," he says;
"when the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw" (2.2.361–62).
Although no north-northwest exists on the compass, this metaphor
implies that Hamlet's mind is only a little out of true. In Hitchcock's
film, after his visit to the house that Vandamm pretends to occupy
in Glen Cove, Long Island (east of New York City), Roger Thornhill
finds himself on a journey that moves northwesterly: New York
City to Chicago to Rapid City, South Dakota, and finally, reversing
that direction, back to New York City. One theme that emerges
during this journey is the fluidity of identity.
NARRATIVE:
SURPRISE, SUSPENSE, AND COMEDY
North by Northwest
is a complex tale of espionage and counterespionage, mistaken
identity, romantic love, and honor.[3]
Set during the cold war, it pits the United States Intelligence
Agency against a group of spies who steal and export government
secrets.[4]
The spies mistake Roger Thornhill for a fictitious agent, whom
the Intelligence Agency has created to confuse the spies. For
various reasons, including his romantic interest in Eve Kendall,
who is both mistress of head spy Philip Vandamm and a double agent
working for the United States, Thornhill becomes involved in a
fantastic series of circumstances, so incredible that he cannot
turn to the police for help. After a series of adventures, Thornhill
defeats the spies and wins Eve.
This story is told swiftly and without
unnecessary detail, flashbacks, or flashforwards. Although a remarkable
amount of action is packed into four days and nights, the space
covered—and the time needed to cover those spaces—is
realistic and believable. However, such surface realism is just
one force driving this plot. In his classic, book-length interview
with Hitchcock, French film director François Truffaut
noted that the film is "made up of a series of strange forms that
follow the pattern of a nightmare," to which Hitchcock replied,
"This may be due to the fact that I'm never satisfied with the
ordinary. I'm ill at ease with it."[5]
The narrative explores three options
for expressing the relationships between what the protagonists
know and what the audience knows. The first occurs when the audience
knows exactly what the protagonists know, no more nor less; the
second, when the audience knows less than the protagonists know;
and the third, when the audience knows more than the protagonist
knows.[6]
Through most of North by Northwest, the first option
applies. But once the second option applies—when Eve Kendall
shoots Roger Thornhill and we are surprised and shocked; some
minutes later, we learn that this has been a faked shooting with
blank bullets. The brief period between the "shooting" and the
revelation that Thornhill was not harmed is the only time in the
narrative that we know less than Thornhill. The third option—classic
Hitchcockian suspense—operates when the camera and the audience,
but not Thornhill, omnisciently observe what the Professor says
to his colleagues at the U.S. Intelligence Agency.
The incongruous—that
which is inappropriate or out of place—is one of the basic
elements of North by Northwest's comedy. When Truffaut
commented to Hitchcock that "it's obvious that the fantasy of
the absurd is the key ingredient of your film-making formula,"
the director replied: "The fact is I practice absurdity quite
religiously" (256). Hitchcock also confided, "Since you mention
it, I might tell you that The New Yorker critic described
that picture as 'unconsciously funny.' And yet I made North
by Northwest with tongue in cheek; to me it was one big
joke. When Cary Grant was on Mount Rushmore, I would have liked
to put him inside Lincoln's nostril and let him have a sneezing
fit" (102). Indeed, one working title of Ernest Lehman's screenplay
was The Man in Lincoln's Nose, and the film is informed
by that whimsical spirit. Thornhill's middle initial is O, which,
as he explains, stands for "nothing." In the bathroom of a train
station, a large man shaving with a straight razor watches Thornhill
use Eve's tiny razor. Later, the taciturn farmer on the road says
to Thornhill, "That's funny. That plane's dustin' crops where
there ain't no crops." And when Thornhill and Eve struggle to
evade their pursuers on the faces of Mount Rushmore, they are
dressed in formal clothes—in her case, complete with gloves,
handbag, and high heels.
MISE-EN-SCÈNE
AND DESIGN
Hitchcock's films, major
and minor, are characterized by a distinctive visual look. He
instinctively understood how to tell a story on the screen and,
equally important, how the audience wants to see that story told.
As Orson Welles studied John Ford's Stagecoach (1939)
many times in preparation for making Citizen Kane (1941),
so many later filmmakers have studied Hitchcock's films almost
as if they were a textbook on the theory and practice of film
production.
Hitchcock used innovative
camera viewpoints and movements, elaborate editing techniques,
and effective soundtrack music to build and maintain suspense.
A master at relating the setting of his films to their themes
and at presenting a totally "closed" world on the screen, he shot
most of his films in the studio, where he could have complete
control. His suspense films were generally set either in a single,
interior place (e.g., Rear Window and Rope)
or multiple interior and exterior places (e.g., North by Northwest
and Vertigo). "I'm very concerned about the authenticity
of settings and furnishings," he told Truffaut. "When we can't
shoot in the actual setting, I'm for taking research photographs
of everything" (253). This technique proved ideal for the making
of North by Northwest, because the United Nations refused
permission to film in its Delegates' Lounge and the U.S. government
refused permission to film on Mount Rushmore. Both locations were
re-created in the MGM studios.
Perhaps because of his early training
as an art director, Hitchcock used storyboards to plan the look
and logistics of every shot from beginning to end.[7]
As a result, some critics have charged that he was more concerned
with the design and technique of his films than with their meaning;
that he thought of actors as just another element of the mise-en-scène,
like the furniture or props—something to be moved around
the set to "look" right but not to get in the way of the narrative;
and that even his best films, while scary and satisfying, are
rarely challenging emotionally or intellectually.
Robert Boyle, who served
as art director on Saboteur (1942), Shadow of a
Doubt (1943), North by Northwest (1959), The
Birds (1963), and Marnie (1964), claims:
No director
I've worked with knew as much about films as he did. A lot of
directors I worked with knew a great deal, but they didn't have
his technical skill. He was always trying to make the visual statement,
and there was no such thing as a throwaway shot. Now—about
working for Hitchcock— nothing makes things easier for the
art director. Art Direction is by its very nature very difficult
work. It is not any easier to work with Hitchcock. It is, however,
extremely rewarding and instructive—but not because he preplans
or cuts-in-the-camera. I find Hitch a catalyst to my own creative
functioning, and on each picture I recognized again, as if for
the first time, that I was working with a master. He is one of
the few who really knows the materials of his craft and their
effect—and he will use anything—in any combination—in
any form, conventional or not—to make his statement, to
tell his story. To tell the story in a way that involves his audience
is his main objective and his preplanning consists in selecting
those elements and techniques that will best accomplish that goal.[8]
We can recognize a
particularly close relationship among the narrative, mise-en-scène,
and design of North by Northwest. The episodic nature
of the plot necessitates a variety of exterior and interior settings,
for example, which help establish and define who the characters
are, where they come from, and what they are capable of doing.
Virtually everything in the movie has been designed or choreographed
to tell the story. From the opening titles, which forecast a direction
that would be impossible to follow on anyone's compass, to the
final shot of the train thrusting into the tunnel on its way back
to New York—which Hitchcock told Truffaut was "one of the
most impudent shots I ever made . . . the phallic symbol" (15)—North
by Northwest is full of incidents for which there can be
no realistic explanation, questions for which there are no answers.
Why doesn't Thornhill step on the brake of his speeding car earlier?
Why must Eve "entertain" Thornhill overnight on the train? Why,
in the middle of nowhere, does the crop-dusting plane crash into
a gasoline truck? How does an advertising executive transform
himself, within a few days, into a proto–James Bond?
Opening Credits
The film's opening credits were designed by Saul Bass, an artist
and film animator who single-handedly revolutionized the design
of title sequences. Before Bass began working in Hollywood in the
late 1950s, opening and closing credits were functional—sometimes
comic but simply providing the necessary information about cast
and production crew. Bass transformed that basic approach into sequences
that were memorable creative entities in themselves. They were also
perfectly consistent with the design and mood of the film's story
at least in the case of North by Northwest.[9]
North by Northwest begins
with Leo the lion roaring inside the familiar MGM logo. The background,
however, is an unfamiliar pale green. The logo then dissolves
into a frame of the same color across which parallel lines run
diagonally (and, ironically, in a northeasterly direction) from
lower left to upper right. The actual titles—printed on
the same diagonal—are superimposed against these lines.
The names of the cast and production crew seem to hang suspended
and then fall, prefiguring the final sequence on Mount Rushmore.
Even the title treatment makes a playful, self-referential comment
through directional arrows on the first and last letters. These
graphic lines then dissolve in a photograph of the green-tinted
glass facade of a skyscraper, with moving traffic reflected on
its surface; the same diagonal pattern is maintained in both the
lines of the windows and the direction of the traffic. The next
dissolve is to several scenes of heavy pedestrian traffic in New
York City—people rushing out of office buildings, down stairways,
into Grand Central Station. As the sequence comes to an end, Hitchcock
makes a cameo appearance as a man trying to board a Fifth Avenue
bus, which shuts its door in his face.
Settings
The film's many grotesque
events occur in "real-world," even recognizable settings, such
as New York City's Grand Central Station, Plaza Hotel, and United
Nations building; "Baywood," an estate in Glen Cove; the Glen
Cove police station; the U.S. Intelligence Agency in Washington,
D.C.; the Twentieth Century Limited train en route from New York
to Chicago; Chicago's train terminal, airport, and city streets;
a prairie between Chicago and Indianapolis; and Mount Rushmore
National Monument.
Let's consider a few of the settings
more closely. Although the Plaza Hotel figures prominently in
North by Northwest, the only shots taken there were
of the exterior, the entrance by the front desk, and the lobby
telephones.[10]
With several other exceptions, which we'll look at below, the
rest of the film was shot at the MGM studios in Hollywood. Boyle
and his team built the Plaza's rooms there and painted a perspectival
image of the lobby. One of the most improbable and therefore comic
settings in North by Northwest is Philip Vandamm's house
adjacent to Mount Rushmore. How could anyone, no less someone
like Vandamm, live in a house (with an airplane runway) on or
right beside land devoted to a national monument? What it lacks
in credibility, however, the house makes up for in dramatic potential.
Its principal architectural feature is the way it cantilevers
out over the boulders on which it is built. As Thornhill climbs
around on the steel supports and rocks, he can see into and be
seen from almost every room.[11]
Only a few sections of the house were actually built for the film.
The rest was created with the help of a matte painting, which
was photographed and combined in the laboratory with, for example,
the shot of the maid closing the curtain. Indeed, the backgrounds
usually were photographed and incorporated into the studio-created
settings through the cinematographic technique called rear-screen
projection (see chapter 4): the coastal road during Thornhill's
drunken drive; the U.S. Capitol through the window of the Intelligence
Agency conference room; Mount Rushmore in eerie, bright moonlight.
(Ben Carré was responsible for the matte paintings of Vandamm's
house and the Mount Rushmore monument.)
Perhaps the most famous
scene in the film, as well as its most incongruous, takes place
on the prairie somewhere between Chicago and Indianapolis, where
Thornhill is pursued by a crop duster. Truffaut and Hitchcock
discussed the relationship among this event, this landscape, and
one of the film's themes:
F.T.:
. . . Now, let's go back to the scene in the cornfield. The
most appealing aspect of that sequence with the plane is that
it's totally gratuitous—it's a scene that's been drained
of all plausibility or even significance. Cinema, approached
in this way, becomes a truly abstract art, like music. And here
it's precisely that gratuity, which you're criticized for, that
gives the scene all of its interest and strength. . . . How
can anyone object to gratuity when it's so clearly deliberate—it's
planned incongruity?...
A.H.:
. . . No darkness, no pool of light, no mysterious figures in
windows. Just nothing. Just bright sunshine and a blank, open
countryside with barely a house or tree in which any lurking
menaces could hide. (256)
In this absolutely flat,
lifeless, brown landscape—first seen from on high—Thornhill's
insignificance as a "hero" is clearly depicted. Fleeing for his
life from an old single-engine plane armed with a machine gun,
he becomes a small figure in the frame.
Thus, while the fictional
world of North by Northwest appears on the surface to
be realistic, its settings actually help convey the characters'
predicaments and states of mind. In this regard, the film owes
much to German expressionism, where inward states are reflected
in outward forms. Here, "planned incongruity" not only provides
thrills and fun but also thwarts our sense of the normal. Everyone
lies in this world, nothing is stable, and no place is what it
seems. At the happy ending, when Roger Thornhill and Eve Kendall
are safely together, the train plunges as inevitably into the
dark tunnel as Thornhill did into the abyss of mistaken identity
at the beginning of the film.
Details
Many of the design
details authentically reflect the modernist style of architecture,
decor, and clothing of the 1950s: the furniture at the United
Nations Headquarters, which opened in 1952; the sleek Twentieth
Century Limited (whose exteriors and interiors were the work of
Henry Dreyfuss, one of the great industrial designers of the twentieth
century); and the equally modern architecture and furnishings
of Vandamm's house. Also note the great ornamental gates of the
huge Georgian mansion in Glen Cove; the elegant furnishings of
Mr. Kaplan's room at the Plaza; and the luxurious, traditional
decor of the public spaces and rooms at Chicago's Ambassador East,
then the city's best hotel. The costumes evoke an era when men
invariably wore suits and women wore full, bouffant skirts. Eve's
clothes are very much of the period, the sort of expensive outfits
one would expect Phillip Vandamm's mistress to have—though
her makeup and hairstyle maintain a movie studio perfection that
are yet another incongruity in North by Northwest's fast-paced
world of espionage and murder.
for Further Reading
Adair, Gene.
Alfred Hitchcock Filming Our Fears. Oxford, New York:
Oxford University Press, 2002.
Allen,
Richard, ed. Alfred Hitchcock Centenary Essays. Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, 1999.
Finler,
Joel W. Hitchcock in Hollywood. New York: Continuum,
1992.
Lehman,
Ernest. North by Northwest. New York: Viking Press, 1972.
Millington,
Richard H. "Hitchcock and American Character: The Comedy of Self-Construction
in North by Northwest." In Hitchcock's America,
ed. Jonathan Freedman and Richard Millington, 135–54. New
York: Oxford University Press, 1999.
Smith,
Susan. Hitchcock Suspense, Humour and Tone. London: British
Film Institute, 2000.
Spoto,
Donald. The Art of Alfred Hitchcock: Fifty Years of His Motion
Pictures. New York: Doubleday, 1979.
---. The
Dark Side of Genius: The Life of Alfred Hitchcock. Boston:
Little, Brown, 1983.
Wood, Robin.
Hitchcock's Films Revisited. New York: Columbia University
Press, 1989.
BACK
TO TOP
[1]See Donald Spoto, The
Art of Alfred Hitchcock: Fifty Years of His Motion Pictures
(Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1976).
[2]Robert Boyle, interview
in Vincent LoBrotto, By Design: Interviews with Film Production
Designers (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1992), 16.
[3] See James Naremore,
ed., North by Northwest: Alfred Hitchcock, Director
(New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press, 1993).
[4] For a possible real-life
source for this story, see Spoto, The Art of Alfred Hitchcock,
340–42.
[5]François Truffaut,
Hitchcock, rev. ed. (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1985),
260. Further references to this work are made parenthetically
in the text.
[6]See Michael Eaton, Chinatown
(London: British Film Institute, 1997), 32–35. In
Film Art: An Introduction, 5th ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill,
1997), David Bordwell and Kristin Thompson state, "The plot's
range of story information creates a hierarchy of knowledge, and
this may vary somewhat depending on the film. At any given moment,
we can ask if the viewer knows more than, less than, or as much
as the characters do" (103).
[7]His storyboard for Family
Plot (1976) is reproduced in Spoto, 463–99.
[8]Robert Boyle, qtd. in
Léon Barsacq, Caligari's Cabinet and Other Grand Illusions:
A History of Film Design [trans. Michael Bullock], rev.
ed. Elliott Stein (New York: New American Library, 1976), 199.
[9]Bass designed the titles
for two other Hitchcock films, Vertigo and Psycho.
And although there is some disagreement over the nature
and extent of his contribution—Hitchcock characteristically
discounted any real contribution by a collaborator—Bass
also played a major role in designing and storyboarding the shower
sequence in Psycho (see chapter 6).
[10]See the interview with
Boyle in LoBrutto , By Design, 1–16.
[11]Some commentators (including
Boyle) say that the house was modeled on Frank Lloyd Wright's
famous Fallingwater (1936–39), which cantilevers over a
stream in the Pennsylvania countryside. But except for appearing
to be suspended over water, the film's house bears little direct
resemblance to that particular design by Wright.
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