Alfred Hitchcock's "Apartment Trilogy"

Roman Polanski's "Apartment Trilogy" is quite famous: Repulsion, Rosemary's Baby and The Tenant. Alfred Hitchcock also made an "Apartment Trilogy," though I wonder if anyone thinks of them like one: Rope, Dial M for Murder and Rear Window.

These three films, made between 1948 and 1954, share two things in common: 1.) They all take place in one single apartment and take few to zero trips outside. 2.) The films center around the "perfect murder" and the eventual discovery of it. What is so fascinating about these three movies is that the way Hitchcock explores this single theme of the "perfect murder" is remarkably different in all three.

Rope is a character study about two murderers, one cocky and arrogant, the other hysterical and neurotic. Dial M for Murder is the anatomy--and deconstruction--of a murder. Finally, Rear Window is a love story between an amateur detective and his gal Friday. Some claim Rope and Dial M to be their favorites. In my opinion, however, Rear Window is the true masterpiece in the "trilogy."

All three of these films used their enclosed spaces to the different effect. In Rope, the apartment of Brandon (John Dall) and Phillip (Farley Granger) serves as a space where wealthy intellectuals can mingle about nonsensically while a dead body is stuffed in a trunk. The location creates a sense of suspense--will a party guest open the trunk and figure out that Brandon and Phillip killed a man? There's also the morbid notion that the body is in the trunk on which the food is being served. This juxtaposition with horrific crime and the upper-class is quite common to Hitchcock. In many of his films (including the two others discussed in this blog), wealthy people are fascinated by murder.

Rope is also the weakest in the Hitchcock Apartment Trilogy. Since the murder happens right after the opening credits, there's just no suspense in the movie. For me, I couldn't find myself caring about whether or not Phillip and Brandon got caught or not because they're not empathetic at all. The two boys are elitist know-it-alls and I find their behavior during the dinner party frustrating. Of course, their main "antagonist" is played by James Stewart, an actor whose characters I always want to succeed. I find myself rooting for him to piece together the clues. Rope, though an interesting movie, is essentially a social experiment trying to pass as a Hitchcock thriller.

Second, we have Dial M for Murder, the first pairing of Hitchcock with his favorite actress Grace Kelly. Kelly plays Margot Wendice, the unhappy wife of ex-tennis star Tony (Ray Milland). Margot and Tony's apartment ritzy and fashionable, an ideal setting for Hitchcockian crime. The low angles add to the dread and claustrophobia. Like I said before, Dial M is about the planning and solving of a perfect murder. Tony's plot to kill Margot (she's cheating and he wants her insurance money) is full of many steps and months of preparation. Everything has to be just so and it almost works out for him...except Margot kills her attacker.

The second half of the movie involves Tony trying to evade getting pinned for planning all this. He does so by carefully undermining Margot's self-defense argument. How the murder plot is deconstructed forms the rest of the movie. Unlike Rope, there is a lot of suspense in this movie. The murder scene and the climax are effective and thrilling. But my main issue with Dial M is that there are too many scenes of talking and talking. The pre-climax scenes, when the Inspector is figuring out the case, can get a little tiresome, although that may be because I know how amazing the climax is. I had the pleasure of seeing Dial M on the big screen and in its original 3-D and the movie is just amazing. So my quibbles are minor in the long run.

Rear Window is I think one of Hitchcock's absolutely, 100% perfect films (the other two are Notorious and Vertigo) and that's because there's so much life to it. Each new viewing heralds something new and exciting. The mystery unfolds differently each time. Hitchcock's macabre sense of humor and delightful sense of romance fully come together to add spice to the claustrophobic thriller. Wheelchair-bound L.B. Jeffries (James Stewart) and intelligent socialite Lisa Carol Fremont (Grace Kelly) are a couple you can really root for; their love is true and empty of any psychodrama. The main plot of the movie has nothing to do with who killed the invalid neighbor--it's actually will Jeff and Lisa make it to marriage?

That's why Rear Window doesn't fall victim to the same issues that Rope and Dial M for Murder do. By treating the murder plot as an extended MacGuffin, there aren't any scenes of long explanations about who did what at what time and how that was a mistake. The "perfect murder" plot is there but it is seasoned with very fascinating character-based dialogue between Jeff and Lisa, Jeff and insurance company nurse Stella (Thelma Ritter) and Jeff and useless detective Doyle (Wendell Corey). Jeff's neighborhood is also a vital part of the story as they add commentary to to the main story, which both detracts from and adds to the claustrophobia. Rear Window is really a masterpiece of storytelling because it tells two very distinct stories as one complete film.

So that's my take on what I consider to be Alfred Hitchcock's own "Apartment Trilogy." I think all three of them are important to Hitchcock and his place in cinema history. What fascinates me is that each of Hitchcock's films have their own champions who declare it his best ever. While I don't agree regarding Rope and Dial M for Murder, I do think that Rear Window is pure, classic Hitchcock.

SYMBOLISM! GRANDEUR! EPIC!

I've never seen a Terence Malick film before seeing The Tree of Life. But, having seen that, I just don't really feel any desire to see another one of his movies. The Tree of Life is one of the most pretentious, overly-ambitious and self-indulgent motion pictures I have ever seen. Interest in the film began a while ago when I saw the trailer, which looked both epic and humble. Then the movie premiered at the Cannes Film Festival to both boos and thunderous applause. Finally, the movie won the Palme d'Or or Best Picture at the festival. Having read some reviews, I was skeptical but willing to be won over.

That didn't happen.

Instead, about fifteen minutes into the movie, I began to check my watch and looking for a way to leave without disturbing anyone who may be enjoying it. I ended up sitting through all 138 minutes of the movie but not without multiple eye-rolls.

The Tree of Life stars Academy Award nominee Brad Pitt, rising star Jessica Chastain and Oscar winner Sean Penn. Written and directed by Malick, the movie attempts to correlate a boy losing his innocence to the creation of the world. The story jumps between 1950s Texas and the 21st century in an unnamed city. Pitt and Chastain play the boy's parents and Penn plays the boy in the present (or is it the future?). Within this loose narrative is an extended sequence that literally depicts how the world began. That's basically the best synopsis I can give you because even I was not sure what was happening on screen.

According to IMDb, the characters do have names but I don't really remember anyone saying them. That's partly because the "dialogue" in this movie is just lot of nonsense monologues that sound more like Bible verses than real human speech. The script is full of voiceovers and metaphors and after a while, it just becomes exhausting. Of course a statement like that is what fans of the movie are going to cite as an example of American stupidity. If it makes me stupid or ignorant to want straightforward dialogue and a clear narrative structure (whether linear, non-linear, whatever), than that's fine. I'm okay with that.

Because at least I'm not getting behind a movie that feature multiple voiceover moments where a character whispers "MOTHER. FATHER. BROTHER." or where the image on screen is a laughably precise and over-composed shot that is supposed to be ripe with symbolism and deep meaning. For example, a butterfly flittering around and then landing on the palm of the angelic Jessica Chastain. I mean, really.

The problem with Malick's composition and visual design is that everything is just so heavy-handed. It's like every little detail is supposed to be sooooo deep and grand! It's like being hit over the head with a shovel. Throughout much of the film, I just wanted to yell out WE GET IT! But social decorum forbids such an outburst.

Also, the characters aren't even real, three-dimensional people but agents of Malick's thesis. That would be all well and good if Malick's thesis was clear and focused. How is the creation of the world connected to this family in Texas and that sad man in the urban setting? And even Malick's depictions of Americana/humanity are cliched and uninspiring. A white middle-class family in 1950s Texas! Three boys! Pretty mom! Stern dad! So unique!

And matters are even worse with Sean Penn's scenes. Malick shows present/future life as a stifling modernity--blank, prison-life skyscrapers and a color scheme of black, white and grey. There is a hilarious scene where Sean Penn wakes up to find what we assume to be an estranged wife sitting at the other end of the bed, staring blankly away from him. Then they just walk around their home. In fact, walking around is basically what people do in this movie.

Or when the characters do anything besides walk around, their actions are dripping in grandiosity. Monotonous occurrences are overblown and exaggerated to Biblical proportions. Really it just reeks of "been there, done that."

And then when it comes to the Creation of the World sequence, that is when the movie is at its most preposterous. Malick hardly makes any connection to the main "narrative." It just seems to come out of nowhere. And then some dinosaurs walk on screen and it's like WHAAAAT?! I don't mind a movie taking some risks but it has to make sense with the rest of the movie. Here it just seems like Malick wants to throw something to the wall but doesn't even care if it sticks. I will say that this sequence looks gorgeous and massive and spectacular. But it seems more National Geographic documentary than cinematic art.

Would I recommend The Tree of Life? All polarizing movies deserve to be seen by those who don't truly mind being frustrated by a film. Even with the aimless direction, intrusive soundtrack, mind-numbing dialogue and missing narrative structure, this movie deserves a chance because who knows? It might just click. And maybe it's ahead of its time? I mean, maybe I'm now misunderstanding this movie the way people misunderstood Vertigo back in 1958.

In all honesty though, I sincerely doubt I'll ever like this movie.

The Tree of Life: C+