Any interpretations or subtexts or metaphysical statements you may get from The Birds make for wonderful conversation, and I’ve read some very interesting stuff in this thread. But if it didn’t work as a superior melodrama, none of that stuff’d mean boo. Layers of meaning are not what make a thriller great. Interesting to talk about, sure. But the moment you attempt to elevate this film’s place among other Hitchcock films based on it’s subtext -which can never be anything but subjective- is the moment you begin speaking through that other orifice.
Kinda insulting, Bastard. Let me suggest a rephrasing:
I figured you wouldn’t mind if I turned up the subjectivity of your post just a notch, since you’re a champion of subjectivity. Of course I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that it was an, um, typo, and not blatant hypocrisy.
Really should’ve only been “insulting,” lissener, if I’d singled someone out. I can understand you getting your panties in a bunch at my taking a swipe at some of the more self-important analysis that runs thick in these parts, since, well… you have shown a fondness for hearing yourself type. But really. Does centering your snideness into an individual attack put you on firmer ground? I’m gonna sayy… no.
Concerning the quote of mine you so childishly modified: yes. It is the point at which I check out of the discussion, signaling, as it does, the end of said spouter’s willingness to judge the work on its own aesthetic grounds. You (or anyone) can wax academic for days on the brilliant handling of the theme of sexual repression in The Birds. But the brilliant handling of the theme of sexual repression in The Birds is not what makes it an exceptional melodrama. Hitchcock’s direction and the skillful way in which the screenwriter presents the progression of events are what make it an exceptional melodrama. If this pains you in some way, you have my sympathies.
I’m also sorry to say the the last half of your post is somewhat jumbled. If you can bring the pitch at which you wrote it from “self-righteous” down to “feverish,” I’d be happy to address any additional points you may have.
So . . . you go from pompous and dismissive to explicitly and personally insulting. And I’m gonna take your example of how to engage in an arts debate?
I’ll pretend you were civil in the first place, and that my response was equally civil (reflecting, as it did, your own tone), which, in this parallel universe in which I’m pretending this debate is occuring, would theoretically have seen your last post turned down a notch, and not up 2 or 3 notches, as in the real universe.
Your first of the two posts in this sidebar suggests A) that a movie can only be discussed from one perspective, and that the mere mention of a film’s subtext is, ipso facto, a declaration that the subtext is ALL there is to be discussed; and B) that any such discussion = lissener is speaking out of his ass. Perhaps you understand the ruffles now?
In any case, returning to an undeserved civil tone, I will agree with you that the level on which you would rather, personally, subjectively, discuss this film, is a perfectly valid approach to Hitchcock. Your choosing to ignore the subtext is perfectly fine with me, and probably perfectly fine with Hitchcock: almost all his films work equally well on both levels. The hackles were due to your suggestion that, since we weren’t touching on that aspect at that moment, you were free to chime in and call us asstalkers.
(Done with this sidebar; you want to continue it, MB, please start a Pit thread.)
I’ll not start a Pit thread, thanks, as I’m engaged in a discussion here. You’re the only one who seems compelled to edge it none-so-subtly into the flaming realm. I also won’t attempt to address your more ranting and paranoic perceptions regarding my original post.
Now then, regarding your strangely defensive and utterly distorted representation of my words. Actually, what I said was:
Any interpretations or subtexts or metaphysical statements you may get from The Birds make for wonderful conversation, and I’ve read some very interesting stuff in this thread.
Hm. That doesn’t sound like someone who believes that “a movie can only be discussed from one perspective,” does it? But let’s go on.
Layers of meaning are not what make a thriller great. Interesting to talk about, sure.
Nope. Still doesn’t sound like I find these discussions without merit. Only that such merits should be kept in perspective, which, be honest now, isn’t really the direction this thread was taking, was it. You claim that “the mere mention of a film’s subtext is… (not) a declaration that the subtext is ALL there is to be discussed”; but clearly, can you show me anywhere in the thread where you or others were discussing, say, the techniques of a fine thriller, in addition to your various theses on implicit themes and whatnot?
To sum up, lissener, if you feel I was saying that you, specifically, were talking out your ass, I believe this says more about your own psychological place than any “uncivil” tone I might’ve taken.
P.S. I’m not going to insult anyone’s intelligence apologizing for the continuance of this semi-hijack, since, if we can be honest again, lissener’s and my exchange had to make for more entertaining reading than anything that resided in the thread prior to.
Talk to you soon.
For a great many people, it forms the basis of the most stimulating discussion. Expounding on filmic technique is only interesting to a point and generally makes for rather pedestrian discourse. Think of starting a thread on Citizen Kane and trying to center responses on the use of deep focus in the film.
Without depth and subtext (which are largely objective, there is nothing subjective about Hitchcock’s fascination with female sexuality) even a well made thriller feels dull and flat. Otherwise, Don’t Say A Word or Gothika would be perennially considered masterpieces of the genre.
So basically, you’re right. There wasn’t discussion on much other than subtext and implied meanings. That is what the people posting found interesting. To dismiss that as casually as you have is absurd.
:rolleyes:
[complete thread hijack]
Anyone ever see the old SNL parody “The Clams”??
“Once a year Brian DePalma picks the bones of a dead director and gives his wife a job!”
Brilliant Stuff!
[/complete thread hijack]
Chris W
<< What about what lissener (and myself as of late) have postulated; that the birds attack the main characters whenever they begin to express their true feelings for each other? >>
You’d have to modify that to say that SOMETIMES the birds attack when the main characters begin to express their true feelings for each other. But the attacks are not directed at the main characters – at the birthday party scene, for instance, the birds attack the children when the main characters are expressing their true feelings. That seems unsatisfying.
But, more telling: the first attack on Melanie (in the rowboat) is exactly NOT when expressing her true feelings. It’s just the opposite. Mitch expresses pleasure at seeing Melanie (a true reaction) but Melanie goes back to “playing”, being affected, coquettish, artificial, and WHAM gets whonked on the head by the seagull. So, this is an attack when the main characters are being artificial, and NOT expressing their true feelings.
A better analysis would be to say that the bird attacks express tensions in the characters’ relationships – whether the tensions arise from honesty or from artifice.
But many of the bird attacks (like the attack on the school, the attack on Dan Fawcett, the attack on the school teacher, the attack down the chimney, the attack on the gas station) do not seem to me to be related to tensions amongst the main characters at all.
And there are times when the characters are expressing their true feelings and there AREN’T bird attacks.
So, I don’t see any correlation here. Yes, there are a couple of suggestions that the birds reflect tensions between the characters, but they concept doesn’t hold up. Similarly, there is the suggestion that it’s “the end of the world” (also rejected), and the suggestion from Hitchcock’s trailer that the birds are getting even for centuries of abuse by mankind. None of these stand up for very long.
Again, I think Hitchcock knows that viewers will be looking for facile explanations of why the birds are attacking, and so he throws out tidbits – an attack after a “meaningful” development between characters, for instance. But then he rejects all such ideas by having other attacks that do not follow the pattern. In short, the film is insistent that there is no explanation.
I think this is a common theme of Hitchcock’s – that chaos lurks just below the surface, that our world of manners and social norms and behaviors and life itself is balanced precariously on the edge of darkness. He sometimes expresses this concept comically, and sometimes tragically, but nowhere as explicitly as in THE BIRDS.
And I think it’s a very profound theme, that has astounding relevancy (as I said before) when we think of terrorists. The parallel is pretty impressive.
Yes, that seems particularly descriptive. Perhaps there is a melding of the themes; perhaps the film says both. Subtexts about both the fragility of our normality and “dark feminine sexuality.” This would account for attacks that don’t fit the pattern. I hate to seem like I am desperate to find a pattern, but it does make sense, at least to me. There is no denying Hitchcock’s fascination with women; nor any denying his preoccupation with the artifice of the world. Both themes work together quite well in this film.
THE BIRDS is about…
DRUM ROLL!!
(enter a chorus line of scantily-clad, high-kicking, squeaky-voiced baby dolls)
“Man’s inhumanity to M-A-A-A-A-A-N!!!”
I would have to disagree with you here, CK. I consider this first attack as supportive of my theory, and not contradictory. Melanie is in that boat, is crossing that water, in pursuit of Mitch. She is just beginning to indulge her sexual desire, and is acting on it. That’s when the first attack happens; it’s certainly not random. The birds can smell her sex, and it drives them crazy.
Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying that the birds’ reaction is meant to punish Melanie for having sexual thoughts, a suggestion that comes up pretty frequently. The birds are not meant to drive Melanie’s sexuality underground. They symbolize the wildness of her sexuality, the uncontrollability, to coin a word. As she begins to access and indulge her true nature, *nature * becomes frenzied around her: she is unleashing something that’s bigger than she is.
What about the attack on Dan Fawcett?
Since he’s found dead, we don’t know the circumstances of his death, so I’m not sure.
I get the feeling that he wasn’t banging Melanie Daniels at the time… 
I think some of the posters on this thread need to jumpstart their lovelives.
I think you’re generalizing way too much. Melanie begins to pursue Mitch when she buys the lovebirds and drives them out to Bodega Bay, she takes the boat across the water, she plants the birds, she tries to escape… she’s pursuing him and there’s a sexual undertone. And no bird attack.
He sees her, she grins, he grins, she’s got him and he’s responding (sexual attraction, certainly, but no bird attack.) He runs to the car, seagulls flutter but do not attack. They race back to Bodega Bay, Melanie in boat, Mitch in car. No bird attack (although audience has tension, expecting an attack, she’s out in the open and vulnerable.)
She gets safely to the other side, turns off the motor, drifts to the pier, timing her arrival to just coincide with Mitch’s. Sexual implications, yes, but no bird attack.
They’re pleased with the reunion, exchange a bit of dialog. No bird attack. She becomes coquettish, annoying, affectedly aloof, tilts her head to one side, and WHAM! she’s hit.
So, I disagree. That attack is not a response to the honest relations or to the sex. If anything, it’s a slap at her for artificiality. But that’s too severe. The question: “What do you suppose made it [the seagull] do that?” is NOT meant to have an answer.
The attacks on the children prevent us from taking comfort in thinking the attacks are based on sex. (I have only seen one of the awful slasher Jason movies, but that one very clearly punished teens – with death – for having sex. Hitchcock is nowhere near that shallow or that obvious.) The whole point of the attack on Dan Fawcett is that we know NOTHING about him. We don’t know why or how or what he did to provoke the attack.
And, finally: after Lydia has discovered Dan’s body and returned home, being cared for by Melanie; Mitch and Melanie have a touching, tentative kiss in the kitchen – here’s a long scene of developing relationships all around, and no bird attacks.
Now, I agree that the effect of the bird attacks is to break down the characters and enable them to form relationships, but that’s not the reason for the attacks.
I repeat that the underlying theme is the fragility of life. Paraphrasing Robin Wood: The opening shots state the theme with “almost diagrammatic simplicity.” The birds are massing overhead, among ominous dark clouds (reality, with its constant menace of instability) and Melanie goes into an expensive pet shop, surrounded by birds in ornamental cages (the “safe” artificial world that human beings fabricate and call reality.) Other examples abound – the broken teacups after bird attacks, the phone booth, the children’s party, the cafe, the school. The isolated body of Dan Fawcett amidst the wreckage of furniture and possessions and bric-a-brac.
Ilsa, yes, I know you’d like to find reason or explanation for the attacks. That’s the whole point. We all would, we’d like to find a rationality to life, a reason, an order. And Hitchcock is telling us that there isn’t. That’s very frightening, and one of the reasons THE BIRDS is such a disquieting movie.
Okay, that seems reasonable. You’re right, it is brilliant. Of course, who ever said Hitchcock wasn’t?
Quoting again from Robin Wood’s book, Hitchcock’s Films (1965):
The Robin Wood book is, in my opinion, the best book of film criticism ever written. Yes, it’s a trifle auteurist, but one can easily overlook that. It’s a brilliant analysis.
There a “Revisisted” version available. The first half of the new book reprints (with minor footnote emendations) the original book, so that’s great. Then there’s new material, which I found disappointing. Wood had decided he was a repressed homosexual, and went through a number of traumas in coming out. The new pieces wallow in Wood’s personal angst and re-interprets all of Hitchcock through the lens of repressed homosexuality. A very bitter postscript to an absolutely brilliant book.
I hadn’t seen this film in like 30 years and this discussion made me want to see it again, and… It’s still an excellent film! The effects are fine - they don’t take away from the movie at all. The cinematography is excellent - I especially loved the scene where towards the end he opens the door and sees the apocalyptic vision of the world with the sun streaming through the clouds and birds as far as the eye can see. Awesome colors.
As for the three-women subplot. There might be some connection but I don’t think it’s supposed to be something as blatant as x=y. I think the stories may be parallel but not really connected.