Hitchcock’s most intriguing feature, The Birds has more layers (haw haw) than many of his earlier films. Analysis of the subtexts can be baffling at times, but it is definately a rewarding venture.
The aspect that confused me most was Hedren. Hitchcock commonly used actresses as props (Doris Day, Kim Novak, Eva Marie Saint, to some extent), but with Hedren this notion is taken to an extreme. She exists almost as a visual metaphor. Her use in the film is mostly as a wall to bounce events off of, rather than the classical role of a protagonist. Witness her astoundingly obvious reaction shots.
What causes the revolt of the birds? The film continually hints at the ominous undercurrents of “dark femine sexuality” as playing some role; suggesting that the birds represent the repressed feelings of the women in the film. “Back in your gilded cage, Melanie Daniels.” “As she’s only eleven, I wouldn’t want a pair that were too demonstrative.” Etcetera. A parallel between Melanie and Mitch and the caged lovebirds seems evident.
One bit of throwaway dialogue struck me on my most recent viewing. When Melanie Daniels first arrives at Annie Hayworth’s, Annie comes around and says “You know, I’ve been wanting a cigarette for twenty minutes, but I just couldn’t bring myself to stop and get one. It can become compulsive you know, this tilling of the soil.” When I heard it the first time I watched the film it struck me as having some relevance. In the commentary track on the Criterion release of Rebecca, Leonard Leff asserts that Hitchcock used cigarettes as metaphors for sexual gratification. If this is the case, although I’m not quite sure I believe it, it does give that scene an interesting spin.
The comedic aspects of the film aren’t to be overlooked either. Especially early in the film, like the elevator scene with the lovebirds, Hitchcock’s wry sense of morbid humor is evident. Even later in the film, in the two restaurant scenes, the kindly facade of most of the characters is carefully peeled away until all of them have revealed their baseness.
I’m sorry if this misses the targetted intent of your post but… The Birds is, in my opinion, the least of Hitchcock’s films. It’s a special-effects movie, a disaster movie… before they had the special effects to pull it off. The effects are so bad, it’s distracting… I like every Hitchcock film I’ve seen except this one. I don’t read nearly so much subtext in the film, but maybe that’s my fault… to me, it’s almost like he had nothing left to say.
The Lady Vanishes, Strangers on a Train, Psycho, North by Northwest (my fave), Rebecca, Vertigo, Dial ‘M’ for Murder, Rear Window, To Catch a Thief, Notorious, Shadow of a Doubt, and the 39 Steps.
Seeing Topaz, Torn Curtain, Blackmail, Number Seventeen, Spellbound and Shadow Of A Doubt might help you to better understand The Birds. Trust me on this, htough. It is not a simple disaster film.
One can ascribe meaning to anything. In fact, one can generally assign whatever meaning one wants to anything. Just because I find no meaning in The Birds doesn’t mean I lack understanding.
The Birds seem to strike when the ‘victims’ are getting angry at one another, as if they can sense hostility. Perhaps The Birds is an anti-war parable? Well, maybe to some, but it doesn’t convey that meaning to me.
I also disagree with the director’s choice to leave us without a real ending to the film.
But the most important thing is, Tippi Hedren looks fabulous—those Jackie Kennedy suits! That flawless French-twist chignon! The cheekbones you could cut a steak with!
Despite the fact that she’s: ridden in a convertible at 100mph with the top down, motored across the lake in a dingy skiff, slept, been mauled by vicious birds and run around town in heels. Why, is my question.
Hitchcock didn’t do things like that by accident.
The Birds is indeed much more complex than a simple disaster movie. Camille Paglia wrote a whole book on the movie for the British Film Institute.
To me the birds represent a God-like punishment for the accumulated petty, careless sins of the protagonists, mainly Tippi Hedren’s playgirl character Melanie, whose uninvited visit to the village brings destruction upon innocent bystanders. There’s no denying the moralism in Hitchcock’s films — transgressions always have consequence. The metaphor of the birds as God’s angels of death is reinforced by the famous aerial shot of the gas station explodes in fire, a mini-Armageddon in progress. Distanced by the aerial shot, and too far to see the individual suffering or hear its sounds, the birds circle above it all, cooly detached.
Mitch’s sin is his emotional detachment from the women in his life: his mother, who talks to Melanie about this; his ex-girlfriend, who moved to the village to be near him, but whom he never married; and the distance he at least initially keeps from Melanie herself.
Well, since they attack when those feelings are being expressed, I’d say they’re a metaphor for the unrepressed feelings, if anything. Just the opposite.
The message being that the characters should repress and control their feelings, in that case.
Irrespective of any perceived “meaning” in the film, I assert that it is, in my opinion, Hitchcock’s worst movie. Why? Well, for me at least, suspense only works to a point. There has to be an endpoint to it … the film has no real ending. No denouement. Pretty much rising action - climax - still climax - yep, still climax - oh, hey, did you notice those birds outside, honey? I feel that it is a badly structured film.
I also feel that the dialogue is among Hitchcock’s least entertaining… it may be riddled with meaning, but I don’t find it entertaining, by any stretch.
Considering how often we see the birds attack, when they are done as a special effect, it is a singularly horrible special effect. I don’t know that Hitch could’ve done any better in that era, but it snaps my suspension of disbelief instantly.
The only bright side for me was Suzanne Pleshette. Cause, hey, I like Suzanne Pleshette.
No. There is very little overt hostility in the film. Characters only become overtly hostile as a result of the bird attacks, like the woman in the restaurant. At the beginning of the attacks, the anger of the women is pulsing beneath the surface, like in the Brenner’s living room.
Also interesting is that there is no music underscoring in the movie, not even during the titles. Just the sounds of the birds, many of them electronically filtered.
I have to disagree. While some of the hostility is bird-motivated, the people are being snippy and irritated throughout much of the film. It’s not a punch-to-the-face kind of hostile, but it’s there. The bird attacks are often provoked by loud noises and commotion … and later the victims are able to walk amongst the birds if they bring themselves under control, making little noise, little commotion… and a tight check on their emotions.
One could ascribe meaning to a found pebble, but if one can’t back up that interpretation in a discussion, then the ascribing–ascription?–doesn’t hold much water. Many very serious critics have found a great deal within the layers of The Birds, and have made extremely convincing cases for their varied (but often corresponding) interpretations. Merely saying, in the face of that, “I find no meaning 9in the birds,” might very well, in fact, mean that you “lack understanding.” Which is fine; if you’re not turned on by the prospect of digging through the layers of The Birds, woohoo. Go do something that makes you happier. Your decision not to dig is not proof that there’s nothing to be dug.
Anyway.
The birds don’t respond to anger; they respond to any emotions that break through their respective **subconscious -> conscious ** membrane: most often each time Melanie (whose name, oddly, means “dark one”) is conscious of her feelings for Rod. It’s Melanie’s sexual awakening that the birds appear to be most in sync with, but the child’s pubescence is also referred to obliquely. And the mother’s oedipal jealousy of Melanie also seems to send the birds into fury.
There’s no question in my mind that Hitchcock’s masterpiece (IMHO) is a parable about the terrible power of female sexuality.
Gamera, if you’re at all interested, you should watch the Criterion with commentary; it’s quite an eye-opener.
I never said there was nothing to be dug… I said almost anything could be, which for me, makes it an ultimately futile exercise. Many very serious critics have found a great deal within the Lord of the Rings trilogy, but the author himself wrote it as pure, escapist fantasy, without any allegorical intentions. Does that mean those critics are wrong? No, but it does mean the analysis they conducted is not really of any interest to me.
Which, about Lord of the Rings as pure escapist fantasy? It’s a quote from Tolkien himself. I’m new around here, do you want me to dig up a cite for you? I happen to remember it because I did a paper on Tolkien a while back, and it stuck with me.