‘The Wrong Man’: The movie Alfred Hitchcock simply dismissed after the first scene
Alfred Hitchcock was an undisputed master of his craft. He’d secured his start during the early days of cinema, before sound was even invented, and soon enough, his work changed everything.
It makes you wonder how some people just seem magically gifted when it comes to a certain artform. Are they born with a creative muscle that they simply find easier to flex than other people do? Or is it purely practice? When Hitchcock was born, cinema had only just been invented, so it seems like as the medium progressed, he grew and learnt with it, actively figuring out what it was that made audiences desperate for more.
Tension became the primary speciality, earning him the moniker ‘Master of Suspense’. No one had made films quite like his before, with suspense taut enough to keep viewers hooked to every frame, terrified of what was unfolding or to look away in case a plot twist or a big reveal emerged from the darkness. His penchant for thrillers and crime dramas (all stemming from his childhood fears of getting into trouble, no less) inevitably helped him to make one of the most influential horror movies of all time, Psycho, which is just one of many he helmed that he was able to proudly step back from and admire like a painter finishing a huge canvas.
Of course, artists are prone to the whimsy of elusive perfection, and Hitchcock was no different. He didn’t love all of his films, even when he would pour himself into them. This brunt of perfectionism also caused him to harshly shut down a few movies as unworthy pieces of art that he’d prefer people forget about, driving a knife through the canvas.
In 1956, a film he made opened to mixed reviews, and he himself later admitted to being “indifferent” to it. It seems the heart of the matter, or rather the lack of heart in the matter, was due to his not being paid for the project. In conversation with François Truffaut, Hitchcock explained, “Let’s just say it wasn’t my kind of picture. But the industry was in a crisis at the time, and since I’d done a lot of work for Warner Brothers, I made this picture for them without taking any salary for my work. It was their property.”
He declared, “Well, let’s file The Wrong Man among the indifferent Hitchcocks,” before adding, “I don’t feel that strongly about it. But I did fancy the opening of the picture because of my own fear of the police. I also liked the part where the real culprit is discovered just as [Henry] Fonda is praying. Yes, I liked that ironic coincidence.”
Sure he was proud of the opening sequence, which tapped into his long-standing childhood fears of authority and punishment, but when it came down to brass tacks, Hitchcock lacked passion for the film; the greyness of indifference coloured his feelings, which is one of the worst emotions an artist can feel towards their work.
The Wrong Man marked the end of Hitchcock’s collaboration with Warner Bros, and while it certainly wasn’t his best, you can’t help but feel he was being a little harsh on himself. His next film, hence, involved a shift in vision resulting in the Technicolor Vertigo that was considerably more successful, finding fame as an all-time classic.
