North by Northwest (1959) is regularly included as one of the great films of Alfred Hitchcock. Given the detailed critical appraisal handed to Vertigo and Rear Window, I expected something far more dark than this. Instead, I noticed the jokes (including the hospital patient whose room Grant accidentally enters, and who immediately cries out "Don't go!")
My immediate motivation for watching this film (I had seen it before, but so long ago that I had forgotten it) was to explore the role of Cary Grant. David Thompson recently reviewed two biographies of Grant, and how both of them attempted to get to the bottom of Grant’s magic. I read with fascination about how Grant’s mother was incarcerated in an asylum for over 20 years, with what horrific effect for him I can hardly imagine. I then watched a documentary, Becoming Cary Grant, by Mark Kidel, which revealed some more interesting facts – but at the same time clothed this documentary in an annoying cod-psychoanalytic tone that was more simplistic than Hollwood in the 40s and 50s, suggesting that LSD gave Grant some insight he had been lacking, and had several shots of a stand-in playing Grant on the couch with his analyst.
At this point, I thought, let’s go back to Grant himself. Let’s see again one of his quintessential performances. North by Northwest is seen as one of Grant’s best performances. After watching the film, read the relevant section of Hitchcock by Truffaut, Thompson on North by Northwest, as well as Robin Wood (Hitchcock’s Films, 1965). Armed with all this background, what did I make of it?
This is indeed, as Thompson claims, more in the tradition of the Hollywood screwball comedy than a thriller. Just as Jacques Lourcelles in the Laffont Encyclopedia of Cinema states, the film is a masterclass in presenting life-threatening danger right alongside humour, much of it self-deprecating, constantly setting up suspense and then piercing it with humour, often suggesting that Grant is not the hero he would like to be.
2. Wood compares North by Northwest with Goldfinger,
and claims that NBN is a greater film because of its moral stance. That
sounds like someone who attended lectures by Leavis (as Wood did), but I don’t
think it is a valid distinction between the figure of James Bond and Roger O.
Thornhill (the character played by Grant). James Bond films never include a
role for James Bond’s mother. If there is a moral progress in this film, you
could say it is moral progress shared by many other knockabout comedies – and the
progress is in fact questionable (see below).
3. For me, on seeing the film a second time, the
least effective scenes were the most famous: the attack by a crop-dusting
plane, and the final sequence on Mount Rushmore. Why were these scenes so
ineffective? Partly because Grant, like Bond, cannot die. His persona does not
include dying. But perhaps more fundamentally, these are the only two scences
in the film where the humour, so well linked by Hitchcock, is less apparent.
For a moment, Hitchcock concentrates on the action, and pure action is not his
strongpoint.
4. Nor is heroic action Grant’s strongpoint. Grant
is great at one-liners, looks wonderful in a suit, but starts to lose his
charisma when in a situation of true jeopardy. Insecurity, yes,
self-deprecation, yes, but expressing fear, or looking convincing in a stage fight
is not really what he does.
5. In Wood’s view, Grant through the film moves
towards a “proper” relationship with women: from being married twice (he states
they both divorced him) to accepting a “mature” love affair. The problem with
this view is that Eva Marie Saint (Eve Kendall) represents so many conflicting
viewpoints at the same time in the film. She is the sexy, inviting woman on the
train; the cold and calculating temptress who will spend the night with Grant
just so she can send him to a certain death in the interest of her mission; but
the implications of these attitudes leave the scriptwriter with too many loose
ends. You can’t commit your life to someone who sent you to your death a couple
of scenes ago.
There are also questions about Eve Kendall’s morality. How
did she become the mistress of a spy? This predates her recruitment by the US
authorities, so presumably it was a conscious decision, but she describes it
flippantly as
“I had a spare evening, so I decided to fall in love”? Such
talk worked when flirting with Grant, but makes her judgement rather suspect
when she falls for one of the most evil people on the planet. With such
knowledge, could Grant ever really be happy? Would he not suspect her to the
end of his days?
6. And what about Leo Carroll, usually the figure
of authority in so many English films, stating in his very appearance that he
is willing to let Grant go to his death in the interest of security? Why, as
Grant points out, is he willing to prostitute Eve Kendall for the same end?
Doesn’t this suggest a lack of morality, rather than a moral focus?
7.
And why doesn’t anyone notice that Martin Landau
is depicted as the utterly villainous homosexual, who knows things because of
his “womanly intuition”? Such a line would be excised from any film made today.
No, this film does not have moral gravity, at least, no more
than many screwball comedies. The “secrets” are so vague we are never told what
they are. The villains are stagy. No, for me, NBN remains memorable as
(a) the US remake of The 39 Steps, and none the worse for that. I would say the achievement of the film is
Grant moving from shallow and irresponsible (and dishonest) to becoming
responsible, but without losing his self-deprecating humour. He is the man you
most want to go to bed with – and there would be plenty of laughs along the
way.
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