Couch Time with Sheldon

It's ironic really. At least I think it is. I'm not always so sure about that though so how about you tell me? Yesterday, when I was supposed to be posting the COUCH TIME WITH SHELDON feature on its regularly scheduled day, I spent most of the day on the couch with a bad headache. Hence the reason I'm a day late. I'm pretty sure that counts as irony.

Instead of focusing on some of the big blu-ray title announcements this week, I want to highlight something altogether different instead. Barnes & Noble, an American retailer that focuses mostly on books, is having a sale. This isn't just any sale though. This is 50% off Criterion sale. Criterion, in case you don't already know, is committed to restoring and honouring some of the greatest films of all time for our consumption. They are also infamous for being a little pricey. Now you can get great titles like HUNGER and the just released THE DARJEELING LIMITED for 20 bucks! (Click either film title for the full Black Sheep review.) Titles are available in both DVD and BD format and the sale runs until November 21. Click here for more details.

And now let's take a look at what Sheldon watched in the last week ...

PSYCHO

It may seem simplistic to suggest that Alfred Hitchcock's PSYCHO is one of the greatest films of all time but it really is. 50 years after its initial release, this masterpiece is sure to captivate even modern audiences. There is something inherently addictive about PSYCHO for me. I've seen the film four or five times now and I can never take my eyes off the screen. The twisted Joseph Stefano screenplay, the all new remastered Bernard Hermann score and the constantly captivating camera work transcend time. Sure, it isn't as shocking to see a toilet on screen as it would have been in 1960 but when the action is this engaging, who cares. PSYCHO, released through Universal Pictures, is simply a must see for anyone who wants to call themselves even a loose fan of narrative filmmaking.

WINTER'S BONE

This 2010 title is no Hitchcock but I assure you that the plight suffered by WINTER'S BONE heroine, 17-year-old, Ree Dolly (Jennifer Lawrence), is no less captivating than what Vivian Leigh goes through in the Bates Motel. Ozark Moutain resident, Ree has a few days to find her deadbeat, crackhead dad and make sure he shows up for his court date. If she fails, she loses her family home, which essentially amounts to everything for her. At 17, she takes care of everything but herself - from her two younger siblings to her mentally unfit mother. Lawrence is absolutely brilliant in this Debra Granik film. It is a competitive year for lead actresses but Lawrence deserves to hear her name amongst the nominees come awards season. WINTER'S BONE itself, from Maple Pictures, is so compelling and engaging that it too deserves its place on many year end lists. Do not miss this original, harrowing thriller. Click here for the full Black Sheep review.

ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST

Sometimes I don't understand how I manage to go so long without seeing certain titles. I knew after about five minutes of this Milos Forman Best Picture winner that I was going to love it. Sometimes you can just tell. Jack Nicholson is R. P. McMurphy, a criminal who has been sent to a mental institution for observation. The question at hand is whether he is crazy and should be institutionalized or whether his defiant behaviour is just a way to get out of his work duty sentence. The question then becomes, as McMurphy shakes up the daily operations of this facility and all who inhabit it, what is crazy really? The tete-a-tete between McMurphy and head nurse, Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher), is what takes this film from an insightful look at the definition of insane to the brilliant mind game it is. Warner Brothers has just released an amazing collector's edition that comes with a commemorative book and playing cards with Nicholson's face on them.

PREDATORS

I would ordinarily never see this film but my friend, Naqeeb, was coming over to watch a movie and he and I have distinctly different tastes in film. He thinks BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN is unwatchable and I've seen in six times. Somehow, we both loved this sci-fi franchise thriller, from director, Nimrod Antal. A bunch of seemingly unrelated individuals are dropped in the middle of a jungle without any knowledge as to how they got there. From there, it is as much a mystery to us as it is to them as to how to get out of their predicament. I didn't fully buy Adrian Brody as an action hero and I wasn't entirely certain whether Lawrence Fishburn was acting crazy or just drunk but ultimately, I was fully into this thriller. Thanks to the folks at 20th Century Fox for sending over this screener. I may never have seen it otherwise.

The holidays are coming so plenty of high profile titles will be coming your way on Blu-ray in the weeks to come. This week sees the biggest hit of 2010 hit shelves, TOY STORY 3. The Pixar hit is the biggest animated movie of all time and with good reason. Click here for the Black Sheep review ... In other Tom Hanks news, his collaboration with Steven Spielberg, HBO miniseries, THE PACIFIC, is now available to own from Warner Brothers. WB also puts out the 25th anniversary edition of THE GOONIES, for the first time on BD. Also making its first appearance on BD is the 45th anniversary edition of THE SOUND OF MUSIC, from 20th Century Fox. The hills are alive with the sound of movies apparently.

Thanks for reading and I'll see you next week on the couch.

Source: blu-ray.com

Psycho Semi-Centennial: The Movie That Changed Everything

Last week marked the actual 50th anniversary of the release of Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho to theaters. Yes, I know I missed it. Having a feature entitled "Psycho Semi-Centennial" and missing the actual semi-centennial week, I should really be ashamed of myself. And so, to make up for such an egregious lapse, I'm bringing you the return of this year-long feature with a look at the many important ways that Hitchcock's landmark film changed the landscape of cinema forever. Better late than never, I always say...

Starting at the Beginning
As bizarre as it always seems to me, up until Psycho it was common practice for moviegoers to enter at any point during the movie, and stay into the next showing until they got up to the part they walked in on. This disjointed practice went out the window thanks to Hitchcock's vehement insistence that people come in at the start of the movie for the full effect. When they did so, resulting in lines around the block thanks to everyone arriving at the same time, they understood why.

First Flush
This may seem like a trivial matter to many post-modern viewers, but Psycho was the first American film in history to depict a toilet being flushed. Granted, it was only Marion disposing of her note, and not dropping a deuce, but this was a historic moment nonetheless, and encapsulated the frank, realistic tone Hitchcock and his screenwriter Joseph Stefano were going for. In fact, Stefano was adamant that a flushing toilet be shown for this very reason, and wrote the scene specifically so it would be integral to the plot.

Skin
Following, as it did, on the heels of the somewhat conservative (on the surface, at least) 1950s, Psycho's shower scene was shocking not just because of the violence, but because of the sheer amount of bare flesh on display. Both Janet Leigh and her body double show off quite a bit for the time, and it reportedly put censors--and more dour film-goers--into a tizzy. While still nothing beyond a PG-13 by today's standards, it was certainly pushing the envelope for a mainstream American film, and to this day viewers argue over how much was actually shown--a testament to the editing skills of George Tomasini.

No One Is Safe
Psycho sees its central protagonist, the character is which the audience has invested all its attention and interest, killed off roughly halfway into the movie. This was unheard of, and literally threw all traditional standards of cinematic storytelling out the window. If the main character could die so soon, all bets were off. Anything could happen. Viewers knew they were experiencing something truly new.

Let's Talk About Sex
To give you an idea of the level of censorship common at the time, the MPAA took issue with the word "transvestite" being used in the film's epilogue scene. Psycho deals with sexual subject matter in a manner that was very frank and open. Even from its opening scene, showing Marion and Sam enjoying a nooner in their little love nest, Psycho pushes the boundaries. Then you have an antaganist--Norman--whose entire character revolves around psycho-sexual issues. The whole speech given by Dr. Richmond at the end, though admittedly a bit forced and tacked-on, was a somewhat shocking explanation which took some of the more sheltered moviegoers of 1960 into territory they would have been far less familiar with than the average viewer of today.

Mother, Blood!
Hammer Films may have popularized blood in horror with their technicolor '50s spectacles, but Psycho was a mainstream Hollywood A-movie showing it, which was something entirely different. One of Hitchcock's reasons for filming in black and white was to make the gore of the shower scene more acceptable. But the sight of that Bosco syrup pouring down the shower drain helped prepare American audiences for the copious showers of red stuff to come in the future of the horror genre.

Musical Minimalism
The score of Psycho is one of the movies' most memorable thanks to the genius of Bernard Herrmann. Up to then, most Hollywood productions featured epic scores performed by vast studio orchestras, but Hermmann insisted on a pared-down, strings-only score performed by a small group of musicians. And although the John Williams-era of the late '70s brought back the epic score to a degree, the Psycho influence is still felt.

Big Screen/Little Screen
During the '50s, the movie biz did everything it could to compete with the introduction of TV. This usually involved going as big and bold as possible with things like widescreen and 3-D, showing all the things that TV didn't do. Hitch's genius was to go in the other direction. Thanks to his own TV show, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, the director gained an appreciation for the sparse, basic, low-budget style of TV film-making, and adapted that to the silver screen, bringing a bare-bones sensibility to Hollywood.

The Monster Next Door
Though not the first horror movie to feature a non-supernatural villain, Psycho certainly set the standard to come, and changed the course of the genre in the process with its depiction of a "real" human being as the threat. Monsters were the order of the day up to that point in time, but Psycho showed that reality-based horror could work--that the creepy guy next door could potentially be far scarier than vampires or werewolves. And although Psycho may not technically be a slasher film (debatable), it certainly set the stage.

Psycho Semi-Centennial: The Underrated Genius of Saul Bass

Now more than ever, it seems that opening title sequences for films are crucial elements of the whole picture. In recent years, the ante has certainly been upped with the introduction of CGI, and we've been seeing some of the most elaborate and attention-grabbing opening titles ever. But let me take you back to an earlier time.

Let me take you back to the days of the cut and paste board, and the color wheel; when miracles could not be accomplished with a keystroke. Don't get me wrong, I have great respect for artists and what they can accomplsih with the tools currently at their disposal. But I lose a bit of awe watching giant 3-D letters float above the NYC skyline when I know my nephew probably has a halfway clever friend who could do the same thing on his Macbook.

In that aforementioned earlier time, graphic design in film was an entirely different discipline. And men like Saul Bass were at the forefront of a legitimate form of pop art. Not too familiar with the name? You should be. Because along with that of composer Bernard Herrmann, it is his work that first hits the viewer of Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho. He was the guy who first pulled you into that movie and assured you weren't going anywhere for a couple of hours.

An accomplished visual designer, Bass was responsible for the unforgettable opening title sequence of Psycho. A longtime Hitchcock adviser, he had also done titles for Vertigo and North by Northwest previously. More than just a titles designer, his graphic abilities were put to use by Hitchcock in the design of storyboards and even shot composition. Only a few years into his career by Psycho, Bass would go on to design stunning opening sequences for decades to come. But Psycho would remain his best known work--an urgent, hypnotic, brilliant set-piece that instantly sets the tone for a cinematic classic.

In fact, Bass would become known for his ability to do exactly that, to let the viewer know just what he or she was in for. If you've never seen them before, his credits for Psycho grab you from literally the first second the film unspools, and positively demand that you give yourself over to the rich tapestry of intrigue Hitchcock is about to present to you. With Hermmann's unmistakable strings pulsing, screeching and lilting menacingly behind it, Bass' opener throws a series of spiraling linear shapes and interlocking words our way, and right off the bat we're sent into a state of tense confusion.

Prior to the '50s, most films had very basic title cards--almost an extension of the literal cards used in vaudeville and other stage presentations. But Bass was part of an a vanguard of artists who helped to change that, and made title sequences far more dynamic, kinetic affairs that engaged the audience in and of themselves. He got his start on the 1954 film version of the all-black modern operetta Carmen Jones. His work on Psycho was clearly prefigured by the work he did in the '50s for movies like The Man with the Golden Arm and Anatomy of a Murder, where he also played with angular shapes and contrasting colors in similar fashion.

Following Psycho, Bass was tapped for the title credits to such '60s favorites as the original Ocean's 11, Exodus and the beloved film adaptation of Leonard Bernstein's West Side Story. His opening for Stanley Kramer's It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World are especially memorable, showing he could employ the same kind of energy and movement to inspire hilarity as well as he could tension.

Saul continued to work his magic in later decades, including title credits for another horror classic, Ridley Scott's Alien. In the '90s, he fell in with Martin Scorsese, providing credits for Goodfellas, Cape Fear and The Age of Innocence. In fact, his last project was Scorsese's Casino, which he completed a year before his death in 1996.

Psycho, needless to say, provides many reasons to love it, and to take it with you always. The riveting performances of Anthony Perkins and Janet Leigh. Herrmann's score. Hitch's pacing, sense of suspense and overall genius. But whether you realized it or not, another important reason why you love Psycho is the work of Saul Bass--a visionary in the truest sense of the word.

Psycho Semi-Centennial: A Fella Named Arbogast

"I still don't feel whatever change you're supposed to feel when your name goes up above the title. I think that's because this star thing has never been the first consideration with me. Never. The work has always come first."

Marty Balsam was one of those actors who would get a little ticked off when fans would only remember him from one particular role, which might have been his most famous, but in reality was only one part among so many. Yet unlike the far crankier Sir Alec Guinness, who would famously make little children cry when they would ask for his autograph due to Star Wars, Balsam would still genially sign his name and be friendly to the countless fans who knew him first and foremost as the detective Norman Bates pushed down a flight of stairs in Psycho.

When one looks at the breadth of his prolific career, it becomes easier to understand why Balsam may have had mixed feelings about Psycho. The role of Det. Arbogast may have made him a household name, but there was far more to Martin Balsam than just that gruff, ill-fated private investigator.

Balsam was many things. Oscar winner. Method actor. Student of monkey kung fu. George Clooney's father-in-law...

He was born Martin Henry Balsam on November 4, 1919 in the Bronx, the eldest child of a women's sportswear manufacturer. Acting was an interest from very early on, with young Martin joining the drama club in high school, and going on in 1938 to enroll in Manhattan's progressive New School, where he studied dramatics. As with many who aspired to great things in those days, Balsam's aspirations were put on hold after graduation, when he served out a stint in the Army Air Corps during World War II.

After the war, Balsam got down to the business of making some headway in the New York acting world. While working as an usher at Radio City Music Hall, he managed in 1947 to land a spot in Elia Kazan and Lee Strasberg's prestigious Actor's Studio, where he would be instructed in the Stanislavsky method. Balsam would eventually be one of a veritable legion of method actors to wash over Hollywood in the following decade.

But first he had to prove himself. He suffered through a string of Broadway flops in the late 1940s, before finally scoring a hit in 1951 with Tennessee Williams' The Rose Tattoo, in which he appeared alongside Maureen Stapleton, Eli Wallach and Sal Mineo. This led to a number of TV appearances, until in 1954 Balsam made his big-screen debut in Kazan's On the Waterfront, co-starring with fellow method disciples Rod Steiger and Marlon Brando.

Throughout the 1950s, Balsam appeared in many television productions, a lot of those being the live, theatrical-style one-offs that were very popular at the time. But there were also other film roles following his On the Waterfront breakthrough. Many still remember Balsam as one of the jurors in Sidney Lumet's 12 Angry Men, in which he was part of a stellar cast that included the likes of Henry Fonda, Ed Begley Sr., Lee J. Cobb, E.G. Marshall, Jack Klugman, John Fiedler and Jack Warden. He was also reunited with Steiger for the 1959 biopic Al Capone.

But it was one of those TV roles in particular that may have made all the difference for Balsam's career. In 1958, he starred in an episode of the mystery series Alfred Hitchcock Presents, in which he plays a cuckolded husband who seeks a violent revenge. Balsam was officially on the radar of the series' famous creator, and when it came time to cast one of the crucial supporting roles in his next thriller, the director remembered his earlier TV star.

And so Martin Balsam took on the part of Det. Milton Arbogast in Hitchcock's most well-known film, Psycho (1960). In his largest screen role up to that point, Balsam plays the detective with a tough, working-man charm. It's not an easy performance, as the character of Arbogast must come off in part as a bit of a bully--remember, first-time audiences believed Norman to be nothing more than a sweet, innocent motel caretaker--and yet, we must also feel a sense of shock and tragedy when he's finally offed by Norman's "mother".

Balsam was pretty much the most established actor in the film, and his character is notably the only other victim of Norman Bates aside from Janet Leigh herself. And in the end, there is a powerful sense of loss created when we watch him meet his doom after so closely following him along every step of his meticulous investigation. In a way, it reminds me very much of this poor gentleman:


Psycho made "the Bronx Barrymore" a much more recognizable star, and during the 1960s, the movie roles came more frequently. He followed up Hitch's picture with an appearance alongside Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard in the beloved Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961). He appeared with Robert Mitchum and Gregory Peck in the original Cape Fear (1961)--the trio would all turn up some 30 years later in Martin Scorsese's remake. The Carpetbaggers (1964) brought him major critical acclaim. Then, in 1965 his turn in the screen adaptation of A Thousand Clowns earned him not just acclaim, but also the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor. It would be the critical highlight of his career.

Balsam certainly kept busy in the wake of Psycho and his new-found popularity during the '60s. The TV work continued, including two appearances on The Twilight Zone. In one of Hollywood's bizarre and largely unknown twists, he recorded the voice for the computer HAL in Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), only to be later replaced by Douglas Rain, the actor whose voice was used in the finished film.

It would also be during this decade that Balsam began taking roles overseas in Italy. For whatever reason, he came to be in demand by Italian filmmakers, and would continue traveling there to take on film roles for the remainder of his film career. It engendered a true love for the country that would also continue for the remainder of his life.

In fact, a dozen Italian films followed in the 1970s. Balsam was also one of Hollywood's favorite supporting players by this point, and he turned up in numerous iconic '70s movies, like Tora! Tora! Tora! (1970), The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974), Murder on the Orient Express (1974) and All the President's Men (1976).

In his later years, Balsam continued to work prodigiously. By the 1980s, he was in his 60s, yet continued to be a frequent supporting player in many films, both American and Italian. His most high-profile of the era might have been the brat pack opus St. Elmo's Fire (1985). Not only that, but after more than three decades of TV work, he finally took a recurring role on an ongoing series, playing the bigoted Archie Bunker's Jewish business partner on four seasons of Archie Bunker's Place (the sequel series to All in the Family).

In 1990, Balsam returned to the horror genre with an appearance in the George Romero/Dario Argento collaboration Two Evil Eyes. The film was originally intended to be a TV series based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe, but the production was canceled after only two episodes were made, and so it was re-edited into a feature film. Balsam starred in the second, the Argento-directed The Black Cat, in which he appeared with Harvey Keitel, John Amos and Kim Hunter.

On February 13, 1996, while vacationing in his beloved Italy, Marty Balsam suffered a fatal heart attack at the Residenza di Repetta in Rome, near the banks of the Tiber River. He died at the age of 76, survived by his third wife Irene Miller, two ex-wives Joyce Van Patten (sister of Dick) and Pearl Somner, and three children--son Adam, and daughters Zoe and Talia (Clooney's ex-wife).

Despite all the years since Psycho, and all the countless other parts, it would still be Det. Arbogast for which he was best known, right to the end. One of his final roles, in fact, had come in the abysmal 1994 spoof The Silence of the Hams, in which he played "Det. Martin Balsam", an obvious parody of the Arbogast character.

Balsam's contribution to Hitchcock's classic film is a large one. It may have been just one job in a sprawling career in theater, cinema and television--but what a job it was. If you're going to be remembered for a single role, you can do a lot worse than have it come from one of the most popular and important motion pictures ever made.

So in honor of the Psycho Semi-Centennial, The Vault of Horror salutes you, Martin Balsam--and for the record, we're very glad you fell down those stairs.


For more Hitchcock goodness, check out yesterday's post on Hitch cameos. Plus, go take a look at a damn fine blog whose very title was inspired by the good detective--Arbogast on Film!

The Many Faces of Alfred Hitchcock

"Where's Alfred?": Hitch Cameo Edition!

The 39 Steps (1935)

The Lady Vanishes (1938)

Lifeboat (1944)

Stage Fright (1950)

The Trouble with Harry (1955)

Psycho (1960)

The Birds (1963)

Marnie (1964)

Torn Curtain (1966)

Topaz (1969)

Frenzy (1972)

Family Plot (1976)

Immense thanks go out to Andre "Don't Call Me Alexandre" Dumas of The Horror Digest for both suggesting this idea, and arduously collecting all the DVD screen grabs! Please visit her blog immediately and often, and comment vigorously.

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And on a side note, Day of the Woman's BJ-C and myself were featured guests last night on the premiere edition of Heidi Martinuzzi & Stacie Ponder's new podcast, The Scare-ening! Take a listen here and partake in the hilarity.

Psycho Semi-Centennial: This Movie's for the Birds

Welcome to the first installment of a brand new feature here in the VoH that will be running through 2010, celebrating the 50th anniversary of one of the finest horror films ever made (possibly the finest), Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho. And no, contrary to what you might think from reading the title of this initial post, I'm not about to bash this seminal classic. Rather, I mean what I wrote in a very literal sense.

Let me explain. I won't be the first one to break any new ground here, as anyone who's ever taken a rudimentary film course is likely to have come up against this interesting phenomenon. Nevertheless, I've always been fascinated by it, and figured this would be the perfect opportunity to expound upon it. What I'm talking about is Hitchcock's very apparent avian obsession. Because there is a bird motif about a mile wide running through his 1960 masterpiece.

Hitch was a master of symbolism, and he weaves it all in with great dexterity, but it's there--watch the flick closely a couple times and the bird imagery will start hitting you in the face like guano from the sky.

Let's break it down, shall we?

• The opening shot of the film appears to occur in mid-air, as we approach the window-ledge of an apartment building. Like a bird flying over the city.

• Our story begins in the city of Phoenix. Phoenix, get it? The legendary bird that rises from its own ashes? Myth and folklore majors, quit looking through the unemployment section and help me out here.

• Our main character (well, until she's bumped off halfway in) is named Crane.

• This same woman is later described as "eating like a bird" by Norman Bates.

• Speaking of Norman, and this is a bit more abstract, but Anthony Perkins actually is somewhat bird-like in his physical features. I'm willing to bet this was a conscious casting criterion. (Oooh--alliteration!)

• OK, where was I? Oh, Norman. Yes, our favorite momma's boy has a creepy little hobby, doesn't he? Taxidermy! Specifically, stuffing dead birds. Many of which are birds of prey.

• My favorite of all: During Norman and Marion's lunch conversation, Norman turns away from her and twists his neck in a very odd way to look up at something. The camera shoots him at such an angle that the silhouette of his neck, chin and nose actually resemble the head of a bird. Check it out if you don't believe me -------->

• During conversation, Norman mentions that his mother is "as harmless as one of these stuffed birds". Hence directly comparing her to the predators.

• Bernard Herrmann's famous score, with its instantly recognizable screeching violins, literally sounds like birds attacking. And when do we hear it most prominently? During the shower murder scene.

• And finally, what was Hitchcock's next movie? Yeah, I think you know.

And there's lots more too, including the picture of the bird that Norman knocks off the wall upon "discovering" Marion dead in the bathroom (oops, spoiler y'all! *rolls eyes*). It's all there right in front of you--birds, birds, birds. But what's it all mean?

Well, this is where the wonderful world of film criticism comes in. I'm firmly of the belief that as long as you can back it up with evidence, then any theory of interpretation is valid--whether the filmmakers intended it or not. So I can't speak for Hitchcock, or even Robert Bloch for that matter, when trying to analyze this movie. Who knows why he did it, but I do not I have my own theory.

More than anywhere else, the bird motif seems to hinge upon Norman himself. Marion may be the one with the bird name, but Norman is the one actually represented as a bird-like character. Yet, he's certainly not a mature bird--rather, he's more a child, a weak little chick, who needs to be protected by his momma, the mother bird. The mother who is not only compared to a bird, but literally stuffed like one by Norman.

This mother bird is, even after her death and living only in the mind of her offspring, out to shelter and protect him from the harsh outside world. The home, or nest, is high on a hill, elevated off the ground like an actual nest. And it's most imperative that Norman, the baby bird, be kept in that nest, that he not leave and go out into the world to become a mature adult. In this way, the bird motif serves the purpose of driving home the relationship between Norman and his mother, how it warps his development, and how it informs his sublimated murderous rage.

Just a theory, but I'm pretty convinced of it after repeated viewings. Let me know if the bird thing has ever occurred any of you as well. And if it has, what's your take on it?

High Anxiety, You Win: Mel Brooks' Masterful Hitchcock Spoof

Ask someone to come up with the unassailable Mel Brooks' classics, and the names you're most likely to hear are Young Frankenstein, Blazing Saddles and The Producers--three bona fide gems, no question. But one movie from the same early Brooks period which has not taken its rightful place among those greats is his absolutely superb parody of Alfred Hitchcock thrillers, High Anxiety.

To even call it a parody does it a disservice--it's actually a loving tribute, an homage. Yes, it helps to have a knowledge and understanding of Hitchcock when watching the movie, but it remains hysterically funny and very well written, even if you don't know criss-cross from apple sauce.

I had the pleasure of re-watching it again recently for the first time in many years, and I was completely taken aback by how excellent a comedy it is. For my money, it's completely at the level of the other ones previously mentioned, yet never seems to get the recognition it deserves. Some of that may be due to the fact that Brooks' other thriller/horror spoof, Young Frankenstein, is such an unquestioned classic that it's caused people to overlook this other Mel Brooks thriller comedy.

I would contend that Brooks lost a lot of steam as the years and decades wore on, and some of his later material I don't find funny at all. I think he usually works best when he has someone just as talented to collaborate with--remember he had the brilliant Gene Wilder with him for Producers, YF and Blazing Saddles. With High Anxiety, as the previous year with Silent Movie, he was more or less striking out on his own--although he did have two brilliant TV writers, Ron Clark (Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour) and Rudy De Luca (Carol Burnett Show) working with him, as well as future Oscar-winning director Barry Levinson.

Perhaps it was the lack of Wilder that caused High Anxiety not to attain the rarefied heights of its three predecessors. Nevertheless, I was very pleasantly surprised to be reminded just how great High Anxiety really is. The story goes that Brooks actually asked Hitch to be in the movie, but the legendary director politely declined, explaining that he only cameos in his own films. Still, it's reported that Hitchcock did indeed see the movie, and absolutely loved it.

Brooks himself takes the lead role--unlike with the three earlier classics--and is a study in understated straight-man comedy as Dr. Richard Thorndyke, the put-upon new director of the Psychoneurotic Institute for the Very, Very Nervous. It isn't typical for him to play it straight, yet he does it perfectly, almost appearing to be an actual lead character from a Hitchcock film, dropped into the madcap chaos of this parody--which is exactly the point.

Then there's that classic vintage era Brooks supporting cast. The late, great Harvey Korman as the masochistic Dr. Montague; Cloris Leachman, just as terrific as she was in Young Frankenstein as Frau Blucher, here as the sinister Nurse Diesel; Madeline Kahn, who in hindsight was clearly one of the finest comic actresses of all time, as prototypical Hitchcock vamp Victoria Brisbane. These people are excellent, and all click to form one of the great ensemble comedy casts.



Brooks can be erratic with his scripts, and some of his later material in particular falls flat. Not so here. This is a comedy screenplay filled with one gem after another. Again, not as well-remembered as some other Brooks movies, but so many great lines:

"What a dramatic airport!"

"I got it! I got it! I got it!... I ain't got it."

"That kid gets no tip."

"Professor Lil' Old Man!"
"Lilolman! Lilolman!"

"I beeped! I beeped! Take me away! Take me back to Russia! Put me in irons! I beeped! The mad beeper is loose!"

"You're the cocker's daughter?"

"Are we talking about number one, or cocky-doody?"

As I said, this is actually more than just a straight-up parody--it's a love poem to Hitchcock. Not only are his characters and plot situations referenced, but so is his style of lighting, editing and camerawork. At times it's pretty amazing, and this is also where it does pay a little to be a Hitchcock fan. The downward shot from the ceiling during which all the characters suddenly look up; the shot from underneath the glass table, as Korman and Leachman keep placing plates and cups down, blocking the camera; and of course, the creeping zoom shot in which the camera literally breaks through the fourth wall. Brilliance.

Did I mention that, during Thorndyke's hotel stay in the movie, he is granted a room on short notice thanks to the sudden cancellation of another occupant? The occupant's name? Mr. McGuffin.

Then, of course, there are the specific spoofs, peppered throughout. After YF, Brooks made movie spoofs his bread and butter, and some would argue they got a bit stale later on. But here he truly is at the height of his powers, parodying moments from Hitchcock that are genuinely clever and laugh-out-loud funny.

The take-off on The Birds in which the avian creatures shit all over a fleeing Thorndyke may be obvious, but no more so than the campfire fart scene in Blazing Saddles--just as funny, but far more legendary. And of course, the overarching parody of most of the movie is of Vertigo, the Jimmy Stewart featuring a guy who's afraid of heights...



You just knew that Psycho, Hitchcock's most famous film, would be targeted, and boy does Brooks make the most of it, with a very well-staged and paced scene. A young Barry Levinson plays an exasperated bellboy, who, after repeated requests for a newspaper, barges into the bathroom while Thorndyke is showering, and proceeds to "stab" him repeatedly with the rolled-up paper. The shower scene itself is copied almost shot-for-shot, with all the angles duplicated. Levinson's high-pitched screams of "Here's your paper!!" actually reference the screeching violins of Bernard Hermann's unforgettable score. And of course, we close with the ink pouring down the drain like blood. Genius.

But my personal favorite spoof scene has always been the death of Dr. Wentworth, played by Dick Van Patten. A takeoff on a scene from Hitch's last film, Family Plot--released the year before--it features Van Patten struggling to escape from a car while the world's most annoying rock song blares over the car stereo, until his eardrums explode. This ludicrous scene always cracks me up the most, and best of all, Brooks actually composed the rock song! ("If you love me baby, tell me LOUD! LOUD!")

Speaking of this, we all know now that Brooks has an ear for music given the success of The Producers on Broadway, but it really should've come as no surprise, as the guy has composed tunes for almost all his movies. Here we also get the eminently hummable "High Anxiety" theme itself, performed by Brooks in another of my favorite scenes--in which he puts over a Frank Sinatra impression that manages to be amusing, yet not over-the-top. An extra bonus for a Frankophile like myself...



As always with Brooks, part of what makes this movie so damn funny is his distinctly "New York Jewish"sense of humor. Some have no taste for Brooks because this style of humor has no appeal to them; others may find it dated. But here, it works so well precisely because it is so out of place in a Hitchcock-like setting. Take, for example, Brophy, the cartoonish chauffeur with the Brooklyn accent--a guy like this would never show up in a Hitchcock movie in a million years, yet here he is, looking like he just walked off the set of an Abbott & Costello movie.

And then there's the phenomenal airport security scene, which gets funnier every time I see it. Here is the one time the Thorndyke character breaks from the straight-man role, as Brooks and Kahn disguise themselves as an elderly Jewish couple trying to get through security. This is the one scene that resembles nothing at all from Hitchcock, and is instead Brooks gone wild. You can tell that he and Kahn were ad-libbing and playing off each other quite a bit here, and it is a testament to their collective comedy chops how well they pull it all off.

If you're like me, a Mel Brooks fan who hasn't checked this one out in a while, do yourself a favor and re-evaluate it. If you're a Hitchcock lover who's never seen it, give yourself a treat and watch it. It's one of Brooks' very best, and belongs right alongside Young Frankenstein as another loving tribute to the horror/thriller genres.

BLU-REVIEW: NORTH BY NORTHWEST

Written by Ernest Lehman
Directed by Alfred Hitchcock
Starring Cary Grant, Eva Marie Saint and James Mason


In 1958, Alfred Hitchcock, considered by many in the industry to be one of the greatest, if not the greatest filmmaker of all time, released what many would also consider to be one of his greatest films off all time, VERTIGO. In 1960, Hitchcock released PSYCHO, perhaps his most infamous work. In between these two films, Hitchcock released one of his most stylish and ambitious projects, NORTH BY NORTHWEST. And with that, you have a period considered to be the most creative of his entire career.


While Hitchcock is often seen as larger than life, he is but a man, just like the man at the center of NORTH BY NORTHWEST, Roger Thornhill (Cary Grant). Thornhill, a fast-talking ad man in Manhattan thinks he’s flying high on life until the most mundane of events causes him to be mistaken for a man named Kaplan. From that moment on, he might as well be Kaplan as no one will believe him when he says he isn’t. As Thornhill suffers, ever so dashingly thanks to the debonair Mr. Grant, Hitchcock delights in every moment of it. In turn, his delight becomes ours.

NORTH BY NORTHWEST celebrates its 50th anniversary this year and Warner Bros. has released a newly restored version to commemorate not just this occasion but also Hitchcock’s HD debut. It has been packaged as one of their distinguished Blu-Ray books and the special features will please fans of the film while educating newcomers. There are two brand new behind the scenes features, one about the making of the film and one about the man behind the camera. Screenwriter, Ernest Lehman provides an insightful commentary track and Eva Marie Saint, Grant’s love interest in the film, gives you a first hand account of what it was like on the set. All of these special features and the handful of others I didn’t mention, are nothing in comparison though to the crisp restoration that ensures that NORTH BY NORTHWEST will go on to be appreciated for years to come.


Whether you’re on the edge of your seat during the airplane chase in the cornfield, completely taken with Grant And Saint’s playful exchange on the train or just plain floored by the magnitude of the climax on Mount Rushmore, there is no denying the place NORTH BY NORTHWEST holds in film history. It is iconic; it is memorable; and thanks to the genius that is Alfred Hitchcock, it is both a fine piece of cinema and also one heck of a good chase.

FILM AND BLU-RAY