The one director Alfred Hitchcock called “a century ahead” before taking him down
You’d think a director so transfixed by his own work would be hard to impress, but Alfred Hitchcock raved about other people’s movies almost as much as the public did about his own. It’s not necessarily a unique position. Filmmakers have a sincere habit of shouting up the work of their peers. Martin Scorsese and Quentin Tarantino may be the most beloved directors working in movies today, but they spend almost as much time celebrating films as they do making them.
Hitchcock was no different and would take time out of his own interviews to shed light on the work and that inspired him, saving special praise for those who made it. As well as being a vocal admirer of Vittorio De Sica, Luis Buñuel and FW Murnau, Hitch had some very nice things to say about one of Italy’s greatest directors. Let’s take a closer look.
Released in 1966, Blowup focuses on the life of a fashion photographer called Thomas. One day, after taking pictures in the park, he learns he inadvertently photographed a murder scene. On closer inspection, he is horrified to discover a vague shape lurking on the edge of the frame, which could just be a shadow, but looks very much like a gun. All that is certain is that the woman in the photo – a model Thomas has photographed before – wants the picture.
On release, Blowup was regarded as something of a masterpiece. Critics declared it as impressive a film as Rome, Open City, Citizen Kane or Hiroshima Mon Amour. At the same time, it seemed to herald a newly vibrant form of cinema in which the boundary between fact and fiction was deliberately ambiguous. It was, in essence, the perfect film for a decade in which mass media’s pacifying, alienating impact was becoming apparent.
The first time Hitchcock saw Blowup, he was struck dumb. “My God!” Hitchcock blurted to screenwriter Howard Fast. “I’ve just seen Michelangelo Antonioni’s Blowup. These Italian directors are a century ahead of me in terms of technique. What have I been doing all this time?” He would watch the film repeatedly, absorbing the same hazy colour palette and rough cynicism into his work. Kaleidoscope – which later became Frenzy – is the perfect example, or it would be if it hadn’t been shelved.
Later, perhaps due to the failure of Kaleidoscope, Hitchcock would reevaluate Antonioni, labelling him “pretentious”. It is quite the climb down considering his previous comments. The same filmmaker whom he had described as being so far ahead of him in terms of his art was now being cut down to size with some brutal comments. But there may have been another reason for such a cything swipe at a master of the craft; ambivalance.
It happens to us all, the ageing process. And, with almost every passing year, our willingness to experiment, to be vulnerable and unguarded, decreases as we push our ever-weary bodies towards the snuggly embrace of a chair by the fire. It would seem that even incredibly creative directors can feel something similar. At that moment, Hitch seemed to lose all interest in new waves. Cinema became, in his eyes, something eternal and comforting.
The British director would spend the remainder of his career making family-friendly jaunts like 1974’s Benji, which seem just about as far removed from the disorienting world of Antonioni cinema as it’s possible to be. Still, there was a time when Hitchcock was so shocked by the innovations of his contemporaries that the only course of action was a complete creative overhaul.
