Why Make Movies? Part 1

One day, in a parallel universe, when President Palin declares martial law (now there’s a movie…) I shall probably be indicted for my 39 (and counting) Crimes Against Cinema (I’m an enthusiastic recidivist). The Prosecutor will inevitably ask me the question: “When did you first decide to make films?” I remember that night well…

We lived in the small English village of Odiham in Hampshire. 3000 people, 7 pubs, one picture palace - The Regal. I was 13 years old, and for the first time I was allowed to go to the movies on a winter’s night by myself. (My mother, bless her, was a little over-protective, hence my later flirtation with stunts.) To get to the Regal on the outskirts of town, I had to walk through the cemetery of the Norman era church. Dark shadows. Wisps of fog. Knowing I was going to see a film crafted by a director dubbed the Master of Suspense made the graveyard all the spookier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

VERTIGO was on its re-release, making its way through the secondary circuit of British cinemas that played two double bills, three days each, per week, then a pair of older re-issues on Sunday evening. Hitchcock’s richly atmospheric story of obsession had not been a critical or commercial hit in America, so here it was paired with a Rory Calhoun B western FOUR GUNS TO THE BORDER!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I arrived well in time, to ensure that I saw all the trailers for the upcoming double bills. Trailers - trail blazers being the derivation - intrigued me. Why did they choose that bit? I would often wonder. Then I would see the film in question, and see which elements had been emphasized out of proportion, which aspects had been disguised (Current trailers give far too much away, and should be limited to 30 seconds in my view). I forget which trailers were played that night, but my interest in promotional image manipulation ultimately bore fruit in a parallel career, making over 100 of them in the UK, Australia, and the US.

FOUR GUNS was passable. Little did I know that in 1980 I would take a course in acting from one of the 4 GUNS cast, Nina Foch (pictured below). Barry Manilow was in the class too, displaying a flair for comedy. But that’s another story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Even a dull western in color was better than those on monochrome TV. (”Color?” the experts said in the 20’s “It’s just a fad.”) I loved “going to the Cinema” as it was called in middle class England of the day, however my Cinema education was limited to reading occasional copies of PHOTOPLAY, but I was beginning to notice technical things like back projection. Didn’t look real. The lighting difference when studio desert sets were intercut with actual desert photography…Why didn’t they shoot it all out of doors? The reason I was asking myself such questions did not coalesce till that night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When VERTIGO began with the stunning Saul Bass title sequence propelled by Bernard Herrmann’s score, something took hold of me. I had seen films before, but this time I was transported into a new universe, rich in color, dark in motivation. My first encounter with an anti hero. And who better to confuse your loyalties than the inherently sympathetic James Stewart. Check out the dream sequence by clicking the photo below:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of course, at age 13, some of the moral dilemmas and sexual undertones escaped me, but the film took me on an emotional thrill ride. I loved the way it made me feel, and I knew then and there that I wanted to make other people feel that way too. Thus my ambition was born. Luck and persistence gave me opportunity. My pleasure became my vocation. Obviously, I am no Hitchcock. I am no fencing champion either, but I still compete.

To summarize Hitchcock’s greatness as a film maker, perhaps there are no better words than his obituary in the NY Times (click the photo below).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recently an hour long interview with Hitchcock, long thought to be lost, was posted on YouTube. Wearing his dead-pan basset hound expression, Hitch offers a range of insights into his art, while having wry fun with the listener.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Every aspiring filmmaker should study the Master’s films, ignoring the limitations of earlier technology, instead focussing on how he sculpts the drama. Every shot has a purpose, sometimes two. Low angle Tony Perkins and taxidermy from PSYCHO for instance:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Revisiting Hitchcock’s work encourages a director to think deeper. Take a look at the re-mastered DVD of his World War 2 survival afloat melodrama LIFEBOAT. And yet it is so much more than that. Part allegorical history lesson - we see through the polyglot cast how Hitler manipulated the divisions within Europe to his own ends. Part moral debate on the justification for taking life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More on Hitch another time.