All language subtitles for Becoming.Hitchcock.The.Legacy.Of.Blackmail.2024.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC5.1-[YTS.MX].eng

Alfred Hitchcock,

the director once said,

I want to be remembered as a man

who entertained millions
through the technique of film.

Hitchcock, or Hitch,

as his friends and family
called him,

is probably on
the very short list

of the most recognizable
directors of cinema.

He had a specific style
and explored themes repeatedly,

but through different stories
and characters,

and he knew
how to market himself.

Many classic actors
are identifiable through films

they made with Hitchcock,

and even when talking
about composer Bernard Herrmann,

for instance, he is immediately
connected to Hitchcock.

As years go by, however,

there's a tendency to only focus

on a handful of his films,

but by looking at
his filmography,

one gets an overview
of Film History.

He started during the silent era

and found himself
at the junction

when sound appeared
with a film called "Blackmail."

"Blackmail," 1929,

is significant in so many ways.

It marks a transition
from one technology to another,

and shows Hitchcock embracing
sound in a compelling

and experimental way.

Then there are so many themes
in the film itself

and of the titles surrounding it

that are part
of Hitchcock cinema.

While "Blackmail"
was already Hitchcock's 10th

fully completed feature film,

it is one that can be seen
not only as one of his best,

but also one that developed
further the director's style

and his singular
cinematic eye...

...and ear.

"Blackmail,"

and those very early films

mark in many ways,

the birth
of the Hitchcock touch.

"Blackmail" is the story
of a young woman,

Alice White, Anny Ondra,
who murders an artist.

Crewe, Cyril Ritchard,
in self-defense.

She is blackmailed by a man
named Tracy, Donald Calthrop,

who saw them together,

but is protected
and ultimately saved

by her fiancé,

Frank Webber, John Longden,

the detective
in charge of the case.

Alice.

Lock that door.

"Blackmail,"
the play by Charles Bennett,

starred Tallulah Bankhead,
in the lead role of Alice.

It premiered at London's
Globe Theater in 1928

and was directed by
Raymond Massey,

himself an actor.

Bennett said that the road began
with Hitchcock attending

a performance of the play
one night,

and then asking to meet Bennett.

He plainly announced he wanted
to make this into a movie.

Bennett answered,
"Talk to my agent about it."

And so he did.

On "Blackmail,"
Bennett didn't adapt his play.

Alfred Hitchcock gets credit
on the film's adaptation

with Benn Levy for the dialogue,

for the sound version.

"Blackmail" began
as a silent movie.

And as talking pictures
appeared.

Hitch had to deliver
a sound version of the film.

Sorry, sir. Full up.

We have more room upstairs.

Go on.

I think I told you
there's more room upstairs.

Sorry, sir. Full up here.
More room up

Hey!

Both the silent
and the sound version

were eventually released.

It's interesting to mention

that most Hitchcock films
were based on existing material.

Novels,

short stories,

and plays.

There are few
original screenplays.

"North by Northwest,"
for instance,

was an original script
by Ernest Lehman,

another screenwriter with whom
Hitch had a strong relationship.

In fact,
Ernest Lehman once said,

"You realize very early on
when you're working with Hitch

that you're writing for a star.

And that star
is Alfred Hitchcock."

John Michael Hays also wrote
four screenplays for Hitchcock.

And Alma Reville,
Hitchcock's wife,

greatly contributed
to everything Hitch did.

Don't be silly, Alice.

Let me go!

Let me go!

The writing
in his films was essential,

and was one of the
most important elements

in the success
of Hitchcock pictures.

"One of my biggest problems
is writing,

and that is why
I can't make films more often,"

Hitchcock declared.

He also admitted with a wink,

"But of course I need writers.

I am a visual man,

but unfortunately,
I must also have delineation

of character and dialogue.

The plot I can depict,

but I must have characters
and good dialogue."

The first play that Hitch
adapted was "Downhill" in 1927,

followed that same year
by "Easy Virtue,"

based on the great
Noel Coward effort,

and "The Farmer's Wife" in 1928.

Even though it was all dialogue,

Hitchcock did his best to make
that film as visual as possible.

And have as few title cards
as possible.

This was good training ground
for "Blackmail."

"Blackmail" was advertised as

"The first British
sound feature length film."

John Maxwell,
the producer of "Blackmail,"

set up a temporary
sound-stage studio

with RCA material imported
from the United States.

During the transition
between silent and sound,

films were advertised
as part sound films.

They had been shot silent,

but only the last reel
had sound.

Well, here we are.

I'm right up there. Top.

It seems that during
the production of "Blackmail,"

there would be a sound version.

In fact,
the silent version was released

after the talkie version
of "Blackmail."

Good evening, Miss White.
How are you?

I'm alright, thanks.

I haven't seen you
for a long time.

Therefore, while shooting

the silent version
of "Blackmail,"

Hitchcock was thinking sound.

That's right.

Well, I must push along.

Good night.

- Good night.
- Good night, Frank.

Well, dear.

The first part of "Blackmail"

practically remains
a silent film.

No dialogue, pure visuals
showing detectives on the case.

There's an interesting shot of
the bad guy reading a newspaper,

Hitch would reproduce
a near similar shot,

in "Shadow of a Doubt."

The camera moved to a mirror,

again,
a shot that Hitch reprized

many years later in "Topaz."

The scene in Scotland Yard

with the different stages
of the villain's arrest

is rich with details.

It's almost like watching
a documentary.

Hitchcock will film
Henry Fonda's arrest

in "The Wrong Man" in 1957,

in a similar
documentary approach

detailing the steps
of the arrest.

The film was also based
on a true story.

"Blackmail"
is full of innovations,

but that was also true
of "The Ring,"

which the director called
"a Hitchcock picture"

had a scene
where our protagonist,

an up-and-coming boxer,
Jack Saunders,

imagines having to leave
his wife behind

whilst he goes on tour.

Look at how Hitch materializes
Jack's fear and suspicion

towards his wife's interest
in another man.

What could happen
if he left them alone?

"Champagne"
was very much a comedy

with some interesting
visual gags.

A drunk man on a ship.

When the ship is steady,
he is barely on his feet.

When the ship is rocking,
he is steady.

There's also food being served,

where Hitch shows it
as a mess in the kitchen,

and how it eventually reaches
a table looking appetizing.

Among those early titles,

you find the seed of some
of Hitch's later films.

The state fair in "The Ring"
is echoed

in "Stage Fright"
and "Strangers on the Train."

The POV of a man drinking
from a glass in "Champagne"

can also be found in
"Spellbound."

The slapstick comedy
in that same film

is present in another
Hitchcock comedy.

"Mr. & Mrs. Smith."

the historical setting
of "Juno and the Paycock"

is in "Foreign Correspondent,"

"Saboteur" and "Lifeboat,"
for instance.

A costume ball party
in "Rich and Strange,"

is like in "To Catch a Thief."

For $9,000.

Once...

twice...

the third and last time.

There's an auction scene
in "The Skin Game,"

just like in
"North by Northwest."

$22.50 once.

$22.50 twice.

Last call.

$1,500.

There are many more examples

underlining that
the Hitchcock sensibility

was already forming,

not only during
those early years,

but in films that are
way different from the ones

that he would become
most known for.

We meet Anny Ondra.

Now, uh, Miss Ondra,

you asked me to let
you hear your voice

on the talking picture.

But, Hitch, you mustn't do that.

Why not?

Well,
because I can't speak well.

Do you realize a squad
van will be here any moment?

No. Really. Oh, my gosh.
I'm terribly frightened.

Why? Have you been
a bad woman or something?

Well, not just bad.
But, er...

But you've slept with men?

Oh, no!

You have not? Come here.
Stand in your place.

Otherwise it will
not come out right,

as the girl said to the soldier.

That's enough.

Anny Ondra,
who plays Alice White,

a prophetic name,
as in "Alice in Wonderland,"

or so she thinks,

but instead falls
into a rabbit hole

and gets involved with Murder.

In white, but first shown
dressed in black,

although after her ordeal
at the end,

dressed in bright colors,
ready to start over.

Anny Ondra, whose real name
was Anna Ondráková,

was German and Czech.

She also starred in
"The Manxman," released in 1929,

which Hitchcock directed
a few months before "Blackmail."

"The Manxman" was Hitch's last
silent movie before "Blackmail,"

which included
some interesting shots.

But Ondra's career
in England was killed

when the talkies came in.

She returned to Germany
and appeared in a few films,

and then retired after marrying
prizefighter Max Schmeling.

Michael Powell,
who later became writer,

director, producer
of films such as...

...began his career at
British International Pictures.

"Although I was head
of the stills department,"

Powell wrote
in his autobiography,

"It was agreed by Hitch and me

that I should personally shoot
all stills on his pictures.

I went down to Elm Street
to see him.

He was shooting
extra sound scenes

between Anny Ondra
and Cyril Ritchard,

her seducer in the film.

Anny had a Czech accent
you could cut with a knife.

So Hitch had hired a bright
young actress,

Joan Barry,

to speak Anny's
cockney lines off camera

while Anny mouthed them
in front of the camera.

It was a mad idea,
but it worked.

Unless you know that fact,
the switch is seamless."

Oh no, I don't think so.

Besides, I have to go home soon.

I see it.

Michael Powell continues,

"Hitch was listening
to the scene

on a dead set of earphones.

He waved to me and I waved back,

And then I looked around.

Where was Jack Cox,
the director of photography?

Where was the soundproof camera?

I edged carefully around the set

to where the camera was
presumably hidden,

and found it
in a sort of sweat box

which contained the camera
and the whole camera crew."

By the way, Ronald Neame,

the director of
"The Poseidon Adventure,"

among others,
was assistant cameraman

on "Blackmail."

Visuals and camera movements

were always important
to Hitchcock.

"I don't decry dialogue,"
Hitch once said,

"but I feel that technique
is not necessarily cinematic."

He told French filmmaker
Francois Truffaut

for the iconic interview book
"Hitchcock/Truffaut"

that to him, silent movie-making

was the purest form of cinema.

But that didn't stop Hitch
from experimenting.

In "Murder!," at one point,

Herbert Marshall is shaving,
listening to the radio.

He has a stream
of consciousness monologue,

something quite novel
at the time.

Had to drink a drop of brandy.

For that scene,

Hitch had an orchestra
playing music live,

but off screen.

I'm sure I was right
when I raised that point,

and I feel more certain now.

How did we know that someone
else didn't drink the brandy?

Perhaps there was someone else.

That's the whole thing.

Whoever drank that brandy

Alice is one of Hitchcock's
complicated blondes.

She starts off as one
of Hitchcock's

strongest female characters.

I must be getting home.

You are frightened?

I'm certainly not.

Take more than the man
to frighten me.

Yeah.
That's what I thought.

She is in love
with her boyfriend Frank,

but is bored with him

and wants to explore
other potential,

namely an artist.

She lies to Frank
and hooks up with a guy.

What happens next
is literally a journey

to get her to realize that
Frank is the right man for her.

You find that theme
throughout the Hitchcock oeuvre.

For example, in "Stage Fright,"
Eve, played by Jane Wyman,

falls in love with a detective

while trying to prove that a man
she loves is innocent of murder,

but is in fact a killer.

"Blackmail" also announces
more directly

Hitchcock's "Dial M for Murder,"

based on a hit play by
Frederick Knott,

in which Tony Wendice,
Ray Milland, arranges the murder

of his adulterous wife,
Margot, Grace Kelly.

But when the killer strikes

attempting to strangle
his victim,

Margot grabs a pair of scissors
and stabs the man in the back.

A scene reminiscent
of "Blackmail,"

in which Anny Ondra
stabs the man

who is trying to rape her.

You think Margot is lucky
to have escaped murder,

but things turn against her

when her liaison
with Mark Halliday,

Robert Cummings, surfaces.

The husband made it look
like the killer

was blackmailing Margot.

She loses the sympathy
of the jury

and is condemned to death
for murder.

The detective in charge,
John Williams,

is skeptical, however,
and with Mark's help

manages to prove
Margot's innocence.

Like Anny Ondra's own journey
in "Blackmail,"

what is memorable about
Grace Kelly

in "Dial M for Murder"
is her transformation

throughout the film.

We'd better drop in here
first and have a drink.

She goes from glamorous and sexy

to vulnerable and defeated.

What's the matter with me, Mark?

I don't seem able to feel
anything.

Hitchcock did
a masterful job making

making a seemingly
unsympathetic character

she is, after all,
cheating on her husband

completely sympathetic.

The audience roots for her
even before we find out

the husband's murderous
intentions.

Many years later,
the consequence of impulse

like Alice's own desire
to hook up with Crewe,

the artist in "Blackmail"

would be deadly for Janet Leigh
in Hitchcock's "Psycho."

There is a blonde
who would change the face

of thrillers and cinema
altogether.

There are many other blondes
in Hitchcock's films,

but truly, the impulsive
one started with "Blackmail."

Alice and Frank
go to Lyon's Corner Hall,

a popular spot in London.

It's a fascinating scene
to watch.

There, something happened
that shows

Hitchcock's brilliance
at setting things up.

Frank,

I've lost one of my gloves.

I think I left it
at the other table.

Is this it?

Yes, thanks.

Hm, thought so.

There's a hole in two fingers.

Would you like a pair of
nail scissors for Christmas?

Funny, aren't you?

And later,
she loses her glove again

at the home
of the man she kills.

It's the perfect payoff
when Frank finds the glove

when investigating the murder.

He knows it was her.

On one hand,
by keeping the evidence,

he is protecting her.

On the other,
Alice becomes, in a way,

his prisoner forever,

since he is the only one
who knows the truth.

In "Blackmail,"

Hitchcock makes
his cameo appearance

on a subway train sitting
behind John Longden,

who is across from Anny Ondra.

Hitchcock had appeared in
a silent thriller, "The Lodger,"

in 1926,
three years before "Blackmail."

"It all started with a shortage
of extras in my first thriller,"

Hitchcock once said.

"I was in for a few seconds
as an editor

with my back to the camera.

It really wasn't much,
but I played it to the hilt.

Since then,
I have been trying to get into

every one of my pictures.

It isn't
that I like the business,

but it has an impelling
fascination that I can't resist.

When I do it, the cast,

the grips and the cameramen,
and everyone else gather

to make it as difficult
as possible for me.

But I can't stop now."

Hitchcock said, regarding
his cameo roles,

that he tried to keep
those roles as short as possible

so that he wouldn't
have to suffer the indignity

of being an actor any longer
than necessary.

He also liked
to get this gimmick over with

early in his films,

so that the audience wouldn't
just sit there looking for him.

Hitchcock like trains.

He appeared on a train
in "Shadow of a Doubt."

He's playing cards
with another passenger.

He is coming out of a train
station with Gregory Peck,

in "The Paradine Case,"

and trying to climb
aboard a train holding

holding a cello case in
"Strangers on a Train."

It's proving
astonishingly difficult

to find the right person
for one particular part.

Might I ask you
to stand up for one moment?

The really frightening thing
about villains

is their surface likableness.

You know Bennett, he looks it.

He looks it quite perfectly.

Exactly what
I've been thinking, Sir John.

An Agatha Christie
type character

in Hitchcock's "Suspicion" says

about the villains
in her mystery novels...

I was completely fascinated
by the way your villain

My villain?
My hero you mean.

I always think of
my murderers as my heroes?

That quote seems to parallel
Hitchcock's own approach

to the bad guys in his films.

I'm afraid you're wasting
your time.

You see, she can
neither here nor speak.

"I always make my villains
charming and polite,"

the director said.

Do you mind?

Hmm?

Hands up.

"It's a mistake to think

that if you put
a villain on screen,

he must sneer nastily,
stroke his black mustache,

or kick a dog in the stomach.

Some of the most famous
murderers in criminology,

men for whom arsenic
was so disgustingly gentle

that they did women in
with a blunt instrument,

had to be charmers to
get acquainted with the females

they eventually murdered."

Will you search this gentleman?

I take it you've no objection.

I don't mind.

In "Blackmail,"
Hitch said that the shadow

to suggest a mustache
on the artist's face

was his farewell
to the silent films.

Hitchcock was a master
at making his villains

almost as charming
as his heroes.

They all seem
to possess a sense of humor,

and though their view
of the world was sinister,

they kept smiles on their faces.

I'm so sorry, Sir John.

I'm afraid I understand
so little about playwriting.

I always think
a girl knows instinctively

when she can trust a man.

Yes, of course she does.

Do you trust me... Alice?

In "Blackmail," there are,
in essence, two villains,

Crewe, the artist,
truly a champagne villain,

And Tracy the blackmailer,
a sleazy type.

This again will become
a bit of a staple for Hitch.

Look at "Dial M"
suave Ray Milland,

the mastermind behind the
attempted killing of his wife

and the creepy henchman
he hires,

played by Anthony Dawson.

Another example
might include Mr. Krug

from "Foreign Correspondent."

Krug has a sketchy history,

as revealed by
the scar on his neck

hidden under
his turtleneck sweater

versus Stephen Fisher,
played by Herbert Marshall,

who never gets his hands dirty.

Marshall had also appeared in
"Murder!"

in a much more likable role.

Also think of silky James Mason

versus his dedicated-to-a-fault
subordinate

played by Martin Landau in
"North by Northwest."

Rotten.

Never mind.

We'll finish this masterpiece
together.

That's the idea.

Art and framing
take a special place

in Hitchcock's body of work.

The painting of a court jester

is a very important image
in "Blackmail."

Hitchcock, himself a great
appreciator of art and fashion,

had an eye for paintings
in his work.

Think about a few examples

a painting of Carlotta Valdes

and the self-portrait
that Midge does

of herself in "Vertigo" later.

The portrait in "Rebecca,"

or the one done by Bruno's mom
in "Strangers on a Train."

The painting of Joan Fontaine's
father in "Suspicion,"

or the painting in the hallway

that an inspector looks at
enigmatically

in a separate scene.

The bird stuck
on a painting in "The Birds."

John Forsythe is a painter
in "Trouble with Harry,"

and Hitch collaborated
with Salvador Dalí

to visualize the dream sequence
in "Spellbound."

In "Blackmail,"
the court jester painting

makes a big statement
until the end of the film.

There.

Oh!

You are awful.

In the scene where Crewe
asks Alice to change,

Hitchcock uses almost
a split screen device.

The artist playing
the piano on one side

while we're put in
the position of a voyeur,

with Alice undressing
on the other.

Voyeurism
would be a central theme

to "Rear Window," for instance,

where Jimmy Stewart
uses a camera

to look across at his neighbors.

In "Blackmail,"

Alice goes from black,
possibly woman in control,

to white, pretty much hinting

at a virginal, untouched look.

♪ Prove unpleasant
for the latter ♪

The camera is telling
two stories.

Anny Ondra is nervous

while Cyril Ritchard
is getting excited.

The soundtrack tells us
the third story through music.

♪ Miss Up-to-Date ♪

The song describes the situation

in the most literal sense,

"Miss Up-to-Date" about a wild,

pretty, and naughty
girl meeting an awful fate.

♪ They say you're wild ♪

♪ A naughty child ♪

♪ Miss-up-to-date ♪

♪ For whom if you predict ♪

♪ For you an awful fate ♪

The song sets the stage
for what's about to happen.

But look at the difference
between the silent version

and the sound version
of that same scene.

And that's a song
about you, my dear.

You haven't said
how you liked it.

It's quite a lesson on
how Hitchcock adapted

to this new
revolutionary technique.

Wait a minute.

Where is this trouble?

This scene, which was probably
quite shocking at the time,

introduces yet another theme

that preoccupied
Hitchcock's characters

Sex.

"My attitude towards sex,"

Hitchcock said,
"is the same as it is

to other aspects of my work

'understatement' all the time.

I'm not a believer
in hanging sex all over women.

It should be discovered
in the story."

This quote applies perfectly
to what is happening here

between Anny Ondra
and Cyril Ritchard.

Hitchcock didn't have
complete nudity in his films

until "Frenzy" in 1972.

However, he shocked
the nation in 1960

when he showed Janet Leigh
in her sexy bra in "Psycho."

And used that image
for the poster of the film.

This is one of the scenes
that Hitchcock had to reshoot

For the sound version
of "Blackmail."

At the Lincoln Center tribute
for Alfred Hitchcock,

Cyril Ritchard recalled
that in that scene,

mics were hidden all
over the set."

"And I had to talk into
the first one

and then another
as I walked about,

sometimes having to pause
in mid-sentence..."

That's an idea.

"...while I walked
out of the range

of one microphone
into the second."

Let's see it on you.

"I thought that Anny and I

were getting a little glazed
from shooting

the scene so many times.

It turned out
that Hitch had substituted

real gin in our glasses."

Oh, it's so strong.

"To give the scene
a bit more 'vitality.'"

There it is.

We are now reaching
the turning point in our story

as the curtain rises on murder.

Hitchcock had different ways of
killing his victims in movies...

...mainly strangulation
and stabbing,

like in "Blackmail."

Other killings with knives
or sharp objects

are featured
in the following films

In "Murder!," a woman was killed
with a pointy fire poker.

In "The 39 Steps,"
a spy is stabbed in the back.

In "Sabotage,"
Sylvia Sidney kills her husband

with a kitchen knife.

In "Dial M for Murder,"

Grace Kelly kills her assailant
with a pair of scissors.

In "Rear Window,"

a man cuts up his wife
with sharp instruments.

In the second version of
"The Man Who Knew Too Much,"

released in 1956,

a man is stabbed in the back.

In "North by Northwest,"

a man at the United Nations
is also stabbed,

but in "Torn Curtain,"

a knife fails to kill
an East Berlin security officer.

And of course, in "Psycho"...

...Janet Leigh and Martin Balsam

are both stabbed to death
in two separate scenes.

Don't be silly, Alice.

Like he did with nudity,

Hitchcock was careful
to use violence

in the best possible taste.

Let me go!
Let me go!

"People ask me constantly,"
Hitchcock declared,

"Why are you so interested
in crime?

The truth is, I'm not.

I'm only interested in
that it affects my profession."

At the same time, the director,

who was born in England

and lived there a good part
of his life,

acknowledged that crime had
always been an English passion.

Visually, Hitchcock filmed
murders with style.

"Blackmail" is no exception,

but it happens behind a curtain.

"Blackmail"
is also self-defense,

as we will see again in
"Dial M for Murder."

Ondra delivers
a brilliant performance

through attitude
and body language.

Look at how she strikes
the painting laughing at her.

She breaks the fourth wall
in the same way

that Norman Bates would
in "Psycho"

as she walks towards us.

Hitchcock dissolves
from a close up of Ondra's face

to a long shot of the studio.

While the dissolve technique
is typically used to indicate

to the audience a time lapse.

Here there is no disruption
of the temporal continuity.

Look at a freeze frame of
Ondra's face in the dissolve,

and compare it to that of Norman
Bates at the end of psycho.

The effect and resulting
subliminal image you get

are almost similar.

Hitchcock's brilliant visual
storytelling is in full swing

as she is drifting,
following the killing.

Everything reminds her of it.

In a similar way,
Hitchcock will express

Jimmy Stewart's vertigo
literally.

In "Marnie,"
she's afraid of red,

and we see it.

Here, he gives us
more visual information

that reflects Anny Ondra's
own state of mind.

She's dizzy and confused.

Hitchcock used some
interesting visual associations

to convey Alice's state of mind.

Film historian
Gene D. Phillips points this out

in his book on Alfred Hitchcock
that analyzes imagination.

The cocktail shaker on the scene

suddenly turns into
a phallic knife,

stabbing at the first syllable
of the word "cocktail,"

leaving no doubt about the link
between the lethal weapon

that Alice employed
to defend her purity,

and the sexual weapon Crewe
had intended to use on Alice.

The director's understanding
of sound, music,

visuals is masterful,

and is in contrast
by the following segment,

which is pure silent movie.

The dissolve at the door
is another reminder

that Alice has a dream-like
relation to time.

Just when we think
that Alice is safe,

the shadow
of the blackmailer appears.

And of course,
this creates suspense.

According to Hitchcock,

the essential element
of suspense

was always to let the audience
know more than the hero.

Let them know that there is a
bomb under the character's seat.

Let them suffer as they see
the characters of the drama

grope for solutions
they already know.

"It was much easier,"

Hitchcock said
regarding the silent era.

"There were no nuances of
dialogue to be concerned with,

and the acting
was much more elemental.

The whole atmosphere
was more relaxed."

For instance,

there's an interesting scene
in "The Farmer's Wife"

that underlines this point.

Unable to find a wife,

the protagonist of the story
stares at an empty chair.

Ghostly images of women
he met appear.

Then...

...the woman he loves
comes and sits,

and he realizes she is the one.

In "Murder!,"
a couple comes to meet Sir John

and to convey the fact
that they're intimidated...

How do you do,
Mr. Markham?

As a man advances towards him,

Hitchcock had him
on something soft.

Probably a mattress of some kind
rather than a hard floor.

How do you do, Sir?
Why don't you sit down?

After the murder,

Hitchcock explains visually

that Alice is now in a trance.

The music on the soundtrack
is the slow version

of the song Cyril Ritchard
was playing on the piano

before his death.

Hitchcock understood perfectly

the importance of music in film.

He uses the "Miss Up-to-Date"
tune here as a cynical touch.

It's as if he's saying to us,
"See, I told you so."

Here is a great use of sound.

Alice is roaming the streets.

She sees a man asleep
in a corner.

His hand reminds her
of the man she killed.

Then we cut with a scream
to the landlady,

finding the victim's body.

Hitchcock also used sound
to mark a narrative transition,

as in the case of
"The 39 Steps."

In that film, a landlady finds
a corpse of a woman.

We immediately cut
the loud whistling

of a train leaving the station,

and on board is Richard Hannay,

the man who will
be wrongly accused of the crime.

In "Young and Innocent,"
two women discover

the lifeless body
of a victim washed ashore

as they're about to scream...

...Hitchcock cuts to the sound
of seagulls above,

an ominous foreshadowing
of "The Birds,"

where Jessica Tandy,
who played Rod Taylor's mother,

goes to visit
a neighboring farmer.

She enters his house,
notices that all the cups

that hang on hooks
in the kitchen have been broken.

She goes towards the bedroom
and finds the poor man dead.

The instinct here would
have been to have her scream,

but Hitchcock knows better.

Instead,
she runs out of the house,

completely unable
to make a sound.

It's as if the scream
is strangled in her throat.

And it is we in our seats
who want to scream,

because the absence of it
on the soundtrack is so potent.

What do you think?

There's been a murder
last night around the corner.

Another use
of sound in "Blackmail"...

And they tell me the police
are round there now.

...of a bird chirping
allows Hitch to play up

the contrast
between Alice's internal world,

the trauma she suffered,

and the otherwise innocent world
that surrounds her.

And all that,

under the watchful eye
of her boyfriend Frank,

a framed photo of him
on her wall.

Because Hitchcock had started
making movies

in the silent era,

there was a sense that he
understood to a greater degree,

perhaps over directors
who came afterwards,

the potential power
of a soundtrack.

But the pièce de résistance,

the true mark
of Hitchcock genius,

and his understanding of sound
takes place over breakfast.

A good clean, honest
whack over the head

with a brick is one thing.

There's something British
about that.

But knives...

The news
of the crime is everywhere.

Alice is at a table and is
asked to cut a slice of bread

while a neighbor, or maybe
she's just a regular customer,

tells everyone present
about the murder,

but all we hear is each time

the woman
says the word "knife."

...knife.
Alice cut us a bit of bread, will you?

The rest of her dialogue
is purposely garbled.

...knife.

The poor girl responsible
for the killing

is hesitant
in handling the knife.

...the knife...

...musn't use a knife!

And eventually drops it

when the neighbor delivers

one last and loud "knife."

Really you ought to be
more careful.

You might have cut
somebody with that.

But now, observe the same scene

in the silent version.

Hitchcock's manipulation
of the word knife

in the talkie version

announces other important sounds
in Hitch's films.

Like in both versions of
"The Man Who Knew Too Much"...

...the unforgettable scream.

...meant to prevent
an assassination.

Screams, of course,
are trademark of anything scary.

As is the anticipation
of the scream in "Frenzy,"

as a secretary
returns to her office.

But Hitchcock keeps his camera
outside on the street.

We know she is about to discover

that her boss
has been strangled.

We wait...

and wait until,
to our great relief,

we hear the horrifying scream.

But Hitchcock sometimes
used prosaic sounds

to provide suspense,

as in an amazing sequence
in "Torn Curtain,"

when Paul Newman,
aware that he is being followed,

tries to lose his tail
by going into a museum.

Hitchcock in that scene

creates a score using
only footsteps...

...sounding against the marble
floors of the galleries.

The pacing of the sound alone

is what drives the action
and suspense.

Later silence is as important

when Newman is forced
to kill Gromek,

Wolfgang Kieling,

an East German security
officer who is onto him.

The murder takes place
in a kitchen

and in order to not alert the
taxi driver waiting outside...

...Newman tries his best
to keep the man from screaming.

He and a woman end up dragging
Gromek on the floor

and shoving his head
inside a gas oven.

It's really the struggle
to keep the man silent

that creates the suspense.

Well did anyone else
enter the house that night?

Ad lady says not.

Girl says not.

They were alone.

That's right.

Any answer to that, Sir John?

There's also a similar
approach to sound in "Murder!"

See the cadence in that scene.

But no one else
could have done the murder.

'Cause they were alone.

Says they quarreled.

Admits it.

That's right.

Any answer to that, Sir John?

She does not admit it.

She says she doesn't remember.

A totally abstract approach

that takes full advantage
of what sound offered

to filmmakers like Hitch.

And not against all of us.

Make an exhibition of yourself.

Waste of time.

Waste of my quality brandy.

Hands all over blood.

Any answer? Any answer?

Any answer to that, Sir John?

I hope you don't mind
if I have something to eat,

but I'm rushed today.

Hitchcock's greatest
preoccupation

was food.

"Cinema is not a slice of life.

It's a piece of cake,"
Hitchcock said.

Food plays an important part
in many Hitchcock films.

In "Blackmail," Alice and Frank

had their argument
at a restaurant.

Alice killed Crewe with a knife

that was placed next
to a loaf of bread.

The news of the murder takes
place at the breakfast table,

and later the blackmailer will
conduct his business over food.

"A few years ago in
Santa Rosa, California,

I caught a side view of myself
in a store window

and screamed with fright,"

Hitchcock once said about
his rather corpulent figure.

"Since then,

I limit myself
to a three-course dinner

of appetizer, fish, and meat

with only one bottle
of vintage wine

with each course."

On another occasion, he said,

"It's been my observation

that a man does not live
by murder alone.

He needs affection, approval,
encouragement,

and occasionally a hearty meal.

Food was as abundant
in his films

as it was on his table.

The Hitchcocks would, in fact,

bring their own cook
to Hollywood.

This fascination with food
made it to the screen.

Hitchcock loved to show
his characters eating

and discussing food,

but his own commentary
on the subject was best.

This applied to both
his culinary predilection

as well as his preference
for visuals revealing seduction,

marriage,
relationship and murder,

you know, appetites.

His gastronomic sensibility
also extended

to the graphic nature
of violence,

as evidenced
in his observation that,

"There will obviously be
a lot of drama

in the steak that is too rare."

Mmm!

Best meal I've tasted for ages.

In "Rear Window,"

Grace Kelly is bringing food
to Jimmy Stewart.

Ah.

Her way of suggesting
he should marry her.

There is a similar scene
in "Notorious"

where Ingrid Bergman
invites Cary Grant for dinner,

hinting at how wonderful
it is to eat in style...

I've decided we
are going to eat in style.

Marriage must be wonderful
with this sort of thing

going on every day.

...and hinting
at a married life.

But it's also over food
that in "Rear Window,"

Stewart and Thelma Ritter
discuss murder

and the neighbors
across the way.

Since we haven't witnessed
any crime,

the only reaction we get

from the gruesome
speculative details

spilled out by Thelma Ritter...

That's the only place

where we could have washed
away the blood.

...is through watching
Jimmy Stewart lose his appetite.

The most celebrated line
about food

in a Hitchcock film
may be in "To Catch a Thief"

when Grace Kelly innocently,
or perhaps not so,

asked Cary Grant
over a picnic basket...

You want a leg or a breast?

You make the choice.

A similar conversation is
featured between Eva Marie Saint

and Grant
in "North by Northwest,"

as he sits across from her
in a dining car on a train,

and she declares
that she never discusses love

on an empty stomach.

I never discussed love
on an empty stomach.

You've already eaten.

But you haven't.

When they're kissing later
in the train compartment

their exchange has to do with

Cary Grant having taste
in food, clothes, and women.

Same taste and women.

"Rope" is completely centered
on a meal served on a chest

in which
a murder victim is hidden.

Placing candlesticks
on the chest,

one of the killers
proudly observes

that they suggest a ceremonial
altar from which the guests,

including the family, friends
and girlfriend of the dead man,

will be eating
our sacrificial feast.

I think they suggest
a ceremonial altar,

which you can heap with the
foods for our sacrificial feast.

Later on, it is mentioned
that Farley Granger's character,

the other killer, is quite good
at "strangling chickens."

A discussion of death and murder

takes place at the table
in "Suspicion,"

"Strangers on a Train,"
and others, including "Frenzy,"

in which the wife
of the detective

in charge of the necktie murders
experiments with

mostly repulsive-looking
nouvelle cuisine

throughout the film,

adding a layer of humor...

It's delicious.

...to the progress
of the investigation.

But I find the...

ingredients are
somewhat mystifying.

The killer Bob Rusk,
played by Barry Foster,

works at a fruit market

and hides one of the bodies
in a potato bag.

He later has to retrieve
a piece of evidence,

his tie pin,

which the victim grabbed
when she was being strangled.

And of course,
food is on the menu in "Psycho."

You never did
eat your lunch, did you?

I better get back to the office.

These extended lunch hours

give my boss excess acid.

From the first scene

where Janet Leigh and John Gavin

meet to have sex
during her lunch hour,

to her last meal
with Norman Bates,

a simple sandwich
and a glass of milk

during which he observes...

You... You eat like a bird.

You know, of course.

In "Rebecca,"
Mrs. Danvers terrorizes

the second Mrs. de Winter...

I'd like to know
if you approve of the menu.

...by asking her to fill in
blank spaces on the menu

with suggestions for sauces.

I've left a blank space
for the sauce.

In "The Paradine Case,"
Lord Horfield,

played by Charles Laughton,
observes on one hand

that Ann Todd
is very appetizing.

You look very, very appetizing.

She replies in fashion...

Charming compliment

from such a gourmet as yourself,

Lord Horfield.

Part of the plot
of the second version

of "The Man Who Knew Too Much"

unfolds in a restaurant
in Morocco,

with Jimmy Stewart being unable
to eat the local food properly.

Hitchcock declared
he hated eggs.

No surprise, then,
in "To Catch a Thief,"

that Jessie Royce Landis

puts out a cigarette
in an egg dish.

Not literally.

There's also a suggestion
in "The Birds"

that birds are getting
their revenge on mankind

because we've been eating them.

His trailer for "The Birds"

began with Hitchcock
eating chicken.

I've come to feel
very close to the birds,

and I've come to realize
how they feel when...

I don't think I'll eat just now.

Hardly proper
with all of you here.

Similarly,
he introduced "Frenzy"

by standing in front
of a bag of potatoes.

And the horrors of vegetables.

I've heard of a leg of lamb,

a leg of chicken,

but never a leg of potatoes.

The examples of food
in Hitchcock's films go on.

The systematic and almost
compulsive inclusion

of something as common
as food in cinema

was, on Hitchcock's part,

another device
to engage his audience

with his plots and characters,

A way to wet our appetite

and keep our attention to alert
and on edge.

A way to keep us wanting more,
coming back,

and asking for seconds.

Perhaps it's rather fortunate

that your little secret,

uh, only came into the hands

of a man like me.

Do you know there are some men

who would make money
out of a thing like that?

What a chance for blackmail.

Tracy, the blackmailer here
is played by Donald Calthorpe,

who was mainly a stage actor

and whose film appearances
were usually as villains.

Calthorpe worked with Hitchcock
on three other films

"Elstree Calling,"

"Murder!,"

and "Number Seventeen."

Michael Powell recalled
in his autobiography,

"Hitch had already decided
that Donald Calthorpe,

a complex and brilliant actor,
would play the blackmailer.

Calthorpe came of a famous
and gifted theatrical family.

He despised films
but liked money.

Opinions that are often combined
in the superb piece

of screen acting.

I looked everywhere for that...

other glove last night.

But of course, you detectives
are better trained

at finding these things.

For fun, look at the way
Hitchcock frames the actors

and how there's an ad
that spells out "sex to come."

Clearly a reference
to what led to this situation.

Calthorpe is not the only
blackmailer in Hitchcock films.

The standouts would be
Ray Milland,

who blackmails a man
into killing his wife

in "Dial M for Murder."

There's blackmail in
"I Confess,"

in Strangers on a Train,"

or even in "Rebecca"
with the line...

Blackmail is not much
of a profession.

John Longden,
who was a British leading man

in the early '30s

and who played the role
of Frank,

had this to say about
his experience on "Blackmail."

"I don't remember any feeling

that it was
an historical occasion."

Like Cyril Ritchard,

John Longden had
a difficult time adjusting

to the microphones
and the new sound techniques.

He said, "Besides tending
to produce a crick in my neck,

it hardly contributed to the
smooth portrayal of my part."

But this is not the only
Hitchcock film

in which a detective
chooses love over duty.

Why didn't you tell me?

In "Sabotage,"
Sylvia Sidney kills her husband

with a kitchen knife
over dinner.

Only a detective who was in
love with Sylvia Sidney

knows of the crime.

As she is about to confess
to the police...

He's dead.

...a bomb
then destroys her home

along with the evidence
of her crime.

Rather unfortunate,

the way that poor man
round the corner

er, died last night.

During the whole confrontation
with the blackmailer...

Perhaps it's fortunate...

...Alice is nervous,
but Frank defends her.

That a suspicious looking man

with a criminal record

was seen hanging around.

What's interesting
in "Blackmail"

is that the story swerves

from the detective's
ethical choice

of apprehending the culprit...

Don't you try and swing
this thing on me.

That won't get you anywhere.

...to protecting her instead.

Frank even goes
further by implying

to shift the blame to a person
who did not commit the crime.

Rather unfortunate that
Scotland Yard are at present

looking for that man.

The blackmailer is dodgy
and has a criminal background,

but he did not kill the artist.

In this he is innocent.

But that doesn't stop Frank.

Hey!

The chase of the villain

and the climax
at the British Museum

is pure Hitchcock.

The villain gets to the top
of the museum.

It's not me you want.
It's him.

Ask him!

Why his own

And eventually
falls through the roof

into the galleries below.

The fall in
"Blackmail" is echoed

in "The Man Who Knew Too Much"
at the Royal Albert Hall,

Mount Rushmore
in "North by Northwest,"

The Statue of Liberty
in "Saboteur,"

The mission in "Vertigo,"

Even in "Murder!"

the killer,

realizing
that he has been revealed,

hangs himself during
a circus act.

The chase
is an essential element

in many Hitchcock movies.

Hitchcock developed
his taste for chase scenes,

mainly through books.

"I have derived more
from novelists like John Buchan,

J.B. Priestley,

John Galsworthy,

and Marie Belloc Lowndes

than from movies,"
Hitchcock said.

"I like them
because they use multiple chases

and a lot of psychology.

My chases are the result
of using all of the resources

of modern film technique,

combined with what I got
from these novelists."

For Hitchcock,
in the ideal chase structure,

the tempo and complexity
of the chase

is an accurate reflection
of the intensity

of the relations between
the characters in "Blackmail."

"The chase is the ultimate
payoff in many ways,"

Hitchcock said.

"The chase makes up
about 60% of the construction

of all movie plots.

"When it came to the chase
through the streets,

I broached an idea that
had been maturing for a while."

Michael Powell said,

"Hitch, don't let's do
an ordinary chase

through the streets
like you did in "The Lodger."

"Let's take it
into some bizarre location

that is entertaining in itself.

I had been thinking of my visits

to the British Museum
reading room

to see my grandfather

and the impression
that he had made upon me

by his bent figure at the desk,

dwarfed by the height
of the shelves

and topped by the glass dome
over the whole vast room."

Michael Powell continues,

"Let's have him slip into
the British Museum at night,

get chased through the rooms
full of Egyptian mummies

and Elgin marbles,

climb higher to escape
and be cornered,

and then fall through the
glass dome of the reading room

and break his neck."

Hitch, being a Londoner,
of course,

had never been near
the British Museum reading room,

but he saw the possibilities
of the idea.

And so I think I can make
a modest claim

to being the inventor
of the Hitchcock climax,

unveiled to the world

through the chase
in 'Blackmail.'"

Unfortunately,
Hitchcock was not allowed

to shoot that scene in that way.

Hitchcock used
many trick shots in "Blackmail,"

especially during the sequence
at the British Museum.

"We used the Schüfftan process

because it wasn't enough light
in the museum to shoot there,"

Hitchcock told
Francois Truffaut.

For "Blackmail," the producers
knew nothing about

the Schüfftan process,

a technique
that consisted of covering

part of the camera's view
with a mirror

and allowed to assemble
an image from multiple parts.

And there was a fear they
might have raised objections.

It was all done without
their knowledge.

In fact, John Maxwell,
the producer of "Blackmail,"

thought that the shooting
of the visual effects

would delay the production
and put the film over budget.

While he was doing
the visual effects,

Hitchcock set up a camera
on the sidelines,

photographing
a letter for an insert

in case someone
from the production office

showed up uninvited.

When Maxwell saw the film,
he was totally surprised.

Framing the story around
a specific place

was a clever way
to engage audiences

with the characters.

In "Saboteur,"

the fact that
the climactic confrontation

between the hero
and the villain took place

on top of the Statue of Liberty,

tied in with the plot,

which revolved around traitors
and, in essence,

the fight for freedom.

In "North by Northwest,"

that very same type
of confrontation

takes place on top
of Mount Rushmore,

also a fitting location

since the movie is
about government secrets.

"Stage Fright"
is about travesty.

The villain is an actor
and plays the role of the victim

quite convincingly.

He is in fact
a psychotic killer.

Therefore, dramatic art plays
center stage in the story.

Key elements of "Secret Agent"
take place in Switzerland,

so Hitchcock stages a scene
inside a chocolate factory.

The beginning
of "Foreign Correspondent"

is set in Holland,

so Hitchcock playfully
uses windmills

as a plot device.

Other monuments
indelibly identified

with Hitchcock's cinema

include the Royal Albert Hall
for both versions

of "The Man Who Knew Too Much."

The Tower Bridge in "Frenzy,"

and the Golden Gate Bridge
in "Vertigo."

Real cities like Bodega Bay
in "The Birds"

are also as iconic
as the films themselves.

Hello!

It isn't very often I see you
so early in the day is this.

Call to see Frank?

No.

I want to see
Inspector Wald, please.

In "Blackmail,"
Alice wants to confess.

Well, I suppose you're going to
tell him who did it, miss.

Hitchcock here carefully
designed how she looks.

Yes.

She is dressed in bright colors.

No longer the black outfit
from the beginning.

Costumes
would very much be a part

of the Hitchcock language.

"Vertigo" being possibly
the extreme

as it was part of the plot.

I better say what
I have to say now.

Ironically,
as Alice is about to confess...

What I wanted to say is that

I was the one.
One moment, please.

...the phone rings.

In a way, Alice,

Just like the film itself
is saved by sound.

Yes. Hold on.
You deal with this young lady.

I should be busy for a minute.

Cinema wins.

Yes, sir.

The phone ringing allows Frank

to take Alice out,

saving her from telling
the truth.

And to let people think
that Tracy,

the blackmailer,
was in fact, the killer.

Aha!
So you found him, miss.

Did she tell you who did it?

Yes.

You want to look out.

Or you'll be losing your job,
my boy.

It's an ironic twist,

and perhaps
even a life sentence.

Would she really wanted to stay
with this man

under normal circumstances?

But what choice does she have?

Hitchcock declared
that he originally wanted

another ending for "Blackmail."

He said after the chase and
the death of the blackmailer,

the girl would have
been arrested

and the young man would have
had to do the same things to her

that we saw in the beginning.

Handcuffs, working at the
police station, and so on.

Then he would see his
older partner in the men's room,

and the other man,
unaware of what had taken place,

would say, "Are you going out
with your girl tonight?"

And he would have answered,
"No, I'm going straight home."

And the picture
would have ended that way.

But the producers claimed
it was too depressing.

In the play,

it was revealed that the artist
had a heart condition,

died because of it,
and had fallen on the knife.

We've seen the painting
of the jester

on several occasions
throughout the film.

When Alice entered
the artist's studio,

she looked outside the window
and saw a policeman.

She then looked at the painting
and laughed.

The traditional court jester
was hired to ridicule society.

Alice identified
with the painting

when she laughed at
the policeman

because in fact
she was laughing at Frank.

After the murder,

Alice tore up the painting
as she realized

that the accusatory finger
of the jester

was pointing at her all along.

But who is the jester laughing
at now at the end of the film?

At the irony
of Alice's situation,

at love, at authority?

Maybe he's laughing at us

the audience.

The irony in the ending
was also a Hitchcock trademark.

The ironic conclusion
of "Murder!"

where what drove
the killer to kill

was to protect a secret
from his paramour.

A murder on an impulse

to silence the mouth of a woman

who knew his secret

and was going to reveal it
to the woman

he dared to love.

There is a melodrama for you,
Sir John.

The same secret she already
knew from the beginning.

Other ironic endings
can be found in "Frenzy"

"Mr. Rusk,
you're not wearing your tie."

Mr. Rusk,

you're not wearing your tie.

"To Catch a Thief"

"Oh,
mother will love it up here."

So this is where you live.

Oh, mother will love it up here.

Or "Strangers on a Train"

"Aren't you Guy Haines?"

I beg your pardon,

but aren't you Guy Haines?

A question
that set the plot into motion

at the very beginning
of the film.

"Blackmail" was publicized
as the first British talkie.

Michael Powell wrote,

"It was a smash hit

and put Hitch on the top
of the heap."

All the atmosphere and suspense
of "The Lodger,"

plus a few clever tricks
with sound,

the film had all the
visual appeal of a silent film,

plus the suspense.

When the film reached Hollywood,

Hitch was deluged with offers,

but he wasn't ready to go yet.

"I think that somebody
once said to me,"

Alfred Hitchcock declared,

"'What's your idea
of happiness?'

And I said, 'A clear horizon.

No clouds, no shadows,
nothing.'"

This remark is quite unexpected,
coming from someone

who left behind such
a legacy of moving images.

But rather,
what Hitch may have meant here

is his idea of happiness
was a blank screen

on which he could create
his own images.

And with "Blackmail,"
and those early films,

Hitch, it seems,
legitimized sound,

but also made a giant step
for motion pictures.

He went on to have one of the
most amazing cinematic careers,

and it's those early films
that set the tone

and connect all the films Hitch
did subsequently.

You have the blonde...

the wrong man or woman...

villains...

detectives...

the chase...

the humor...

the food...

spies...

voyeurism...

suspense...

sexuality...

murder.

The singular cinematic language

and the MacGuffin,

the thing
that motivates the plot

but is of no importance.

Very few filmmakers can claim
to be a brand name.

Hitchcock was, is,
and always will be a brand.

[ Uplifting music swells

Francois Truffaut said,
"When I direct a movie,

I realized if I'm having
problems with a scene,

I always find a solution

if I think of Hitchcock."

No doubt most filmmakers
are indebted to Hitchcock,

and as audience members,
so are we.

To paraphrase Truffaut,

If you're having problems
with a film you're watching,

you can always find solace
in revisiting a Hitchcock movie.

No doubt it will remind you

how far reaching the art
of cinema can be.