The Birds. Alfred Hitchcock. 1963.

What! It’s in colour! I’ve seen this before, of course, and in my mind’s eye it’s in black and white!

I realise now that I don’t remember anything about this movie. I just vaguely remember Tippi Hedren being attacked by some… crows? Sitting on some telephone wires? Oh. I’m not the only one…

ANYWAY.

What’s so striking about this movie is that there’s really no hint at the start of the movie of what even the genre is, or even where the plot is going in a general sense. It’s so weird!

Until the first gull attack, it’s amusing and puzzling, but from there on it’s absolutely riveting. The creeping horror intensifying slowly, slowly…

One bit that just doesn’t work is all the womenfolk reacting in sheer passive horror at the proceedings while The Man goes around shuttering all the windows. And Hitchcock has a real problem with the main horror concept here: There’s no way these birds can harm anybody without somebody willingly walking into a room full of the birbs and then shutting the door behind them, so, of course, that’s what happens.

Still, there’s so much powerful imagery in here.

And, of course, Hitchcock was abusing Tippi Hedren throughout the making of this movie, because she refused to have sex with him. Some of the bird attack scenes were horrifying for her, too.

Kiss Me, Stupid. Billy Wilder. 1964.

I watched a Billy Wilder movie yesterday, so I thought I might as well watch the final movie in the DVD box set I bought at least a decade ago. Making room on the to-be-watched shelf!

I like Billy Wilder, but he’s not really a director that I find… er… interesting? He makes dependably funny movies: Well-made, uncomplicated, supremely Hollywood from cinematography to how the actors deliver their lines.

For a while, it seemed like any professional director from this era got a reappraisal as an auteur (Emeric Pressburger, Douglas Sirk etc), but I don’t think that’s happened with Wilder? Perhaps it has but I just missed it?

ANYWAY.

This starts off quite amusingly with Dean Martin on stage, and then we move to a little town in the boondocks where Ray Walston lives a life of insane jealousy and hopes of becoming a famous composer. He fantastic in the role, but the role is perhaps more unpleasant than intended.

I feel like this should have been more engaging than it is. The individual scenes are satisfyingly kooky but the pacing seems too slow. If this had been a movie from the 40s, it’d have been half an hour shorter and a lot snappier. It feels like Wilder takes too much time setting things up, so in the end the entire movie is mostly moving the pieces into position (at the one hour mark).

The last hour has some LOL out loud bits and works much better. Except some particularly creepy bits.

Witness for the Prosecution. Billy Wilder. 1957.

Hey! Billy Wilder! Oh, yeah. I bought a box set some years ago and this is the only movie from that set I haven’t seen yet.

And it’s based on an Agatha Christie short story?

Charles Laughton, fatter than ever, is present, as is Marlene Dietrich and Tyrone Power. And Elsa Lanchester!

What! This is the 66th most top-rated movie on imdb? How odd. I haven’t heard of this movie.

This is really a throwback to screwball comedies from decades ago. The dialogue snaps and crackles, and there’s all these little uncommented-upon sight gags going on in the background. It’s really fun!

But when the movie disappears into the courts, the it loses some sparkle. It devolves into a quite amusing TV courts drama, but that’s a bit of a disappointment.

On the other hand, it’s such a simple, straightforward movie that all the expected unexpected twists and turns feel comfortable and strangely satisfying.

It does what it does extremely well. Best in class.