Showing posts with label Robert Walker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Walker. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 29, 2011


 Actor Farley Granger died in New York on Sunday at age 85. He'd begun his career in Hollywood under contract to Samuel Goldwyn and made his first film, The North Star, in 1943. Five years later he worked for the first time with Alfred Hitchcock on one of the director's most interesting exercises, Rope (1948), co-starring James Stewart and John Dall. In 1951 he again worked with Hitchcock and it is for this film, Strangers on a Train, that Granger is best remembered. The actor later left Hollywood to work on the New York stage; in 1986 he won an Obie Award for his performance in "Talley & Son." Though Farley Granger is not the specific focus, I'm posting this previously published reflection on Strangers on a Train in tribute to of his life and career.
It was the middle of the 20th Century and Alfred Hitchcock's last major film had been Notorious (1946). Four years and four films later, he seemed to be drifting. Though The Paradine Case, Rope, Under Capricorn and Stage Fright were all interesting attempts, only underrated Stage Fright was successful, but it was not major box office.

Hitchcock and Granger on the set
For his next project, Hitchcock looked to the first novel of young Patricia Highsmith. Intrigued by its clever "criss-cross" murder plot, he bought the rights to Strangers on a Train.

Raymond Chandler was tapped to tackle the screenplay, though Czenzi Ormonde, a protege of Ben Hecht, rewrote most of it. Cinematographer Robert Burks collaborated with Hitchcock for the first time and earned an Oscar nomination for his efforts. He was nominated again for Rear Window and won for To Catch a Thief. Dimiti Tiomkin, who had last worked with the director on Shadow of a Doubt, composed the dramatic score. Hitchcock produced and directed for Warner Brothers.

Strangers on a Train (1951) is considered one of Hitchcock's most accessible films; its overwhelming success revived the director's reputation at a crucial point. It also signaled the beginning of his final great filmmaking period.

"meet cute" moment
A virtual case study of Hitchcock's technique, Strangers on a Train  bears all the hallmarks of his style. There are spectacular set pieces, among them - an intense tennis match cross-cut with scenes of a killer's harrowing journey to plant evidence and a carousel sequence that sweeps to a terrifying climax. Prominent historical sites appear; Washington, D.C., landmarks are woven into the scenario, with the Jefferson Memorial in a stark cameo. There is an "innocent man accused" and a powerful doppelganger motif.

Farley Granger and Laura Elliott/Kasey Rogers
Though there are no marquee names, the cast is solid: Farley Granger as handsome, nearly guileless and beleaguered tennis star Guy Haines and Laura Elliott (Kasey Rogers) as his trampy estranged wife, Miriam. Marion Lorne stands out as the discombobulated mother of a killer, Leo G. Carroll appears as a U.S. Senator and Patricia Hitchcock has one of her best roles as his quirky younger daughter.

Alfred Hitchcock once told Francoise Truffaut, "...the more successful the villain, the more successful the picture. That's a cardinal rule..."

The bold, unforgettable performance of Robert Walker as unhinged Bruno Anthony is proof of that rule. Remarkably, Walker had mostly been cast as boy-next-door types up till then. Like Joseph Cotten's Uncle Charley in Shadow of a Doubt, Walker's Bruno is a glib, self-possessed charmer who is also a remorseless killer. Walker is riveting onscreen. His Bruno is confident, slick, erratic...and very unsettling. His smooth veneer barely masks a simmering rage. With a voice that slides from sensual as velvet to cold and hollow as tin, his eyes glitter, glare, caress.

Robert Walker
From the moment Bruno is first seen in the club car insinuating himself into Guy's life, to his final seconds of life, when he mercilessly implicates Guy with his dying breath, Walker dominates and energizes the film. Pat Hitchcock once observed that for all her father's genius, it was Walker's daring performance that 'made' the picture.

Walker died tragically at age 32 less than two months after the film was released. He had appeared in more than 30 films in his career, but it was Strangers on a Train that allowed him to reveal the devastating range of his talent.

Farley Granger later reflected, "he was great in the film; his potential was limitless, his career was just beginning to take wing."

Robert Walker's life had been short and often troubled, but it later became clear that he had a bit of good fortune after all; his greatest role, a virtuoso performance, was preserved in one of Alfred Hitchcock's finest and most popular films.

British film critic and historian David Thomson noted in a 1999 Hitchcock centenniel article on Strangers that Walker's was "...a landmark performance. You see it now and you feel the vibrancy of the modernity...he had had that one chance..."

Monday, January 17, 2011


Alfred Hitchcock once remarked that, “in the old days villains had moustaches and kicked the dog.”  He resisted such clichés, preferring a different kind of heavy, the sort he called “an ordinary human being with failings.”  The director also said, referring to his own work, “the more successful the villain, the more successful the picture,” and though this was not always the case, it held true for some of his best films.

 Three villains who reflect his preferences and support his contention come quickly to mind:

  • Charles Oakley, the “Merry Widow” killer in Shadow of a Doubt (1943)
  • Bruno Anthony, the “Criss Cross” strangler of Strangers on a Train (1951)
  • Norman Bates, the identity-challenged slayer in Psycho (1960)
Shadow of a Doubt: Teresa Wright and Joseph Cotten

Shadow of a Doubt is the film Hitchcock sometimes claimed was his favorite. It was one in a string of hits he made during his first years in the U.S.; some call it his first truly "American" film. Joseph Cotten as Charles Oakley is spellbinding, beginning with the rich velvety rasp of his voice. Uncle Charlie’s suave veneer and practiced charm belie his homicidal impulses and he is welcomed with open arms into a wholesome small town.

Strangers on a Train was a major hit and responsible for reviving Hitchcock’s career after a series of mid-century flops. Robert Walker’s hypnotic performance as the bizarrely unbalanced Bruno is so powerful he dominates the entire film. Bruno, glib and witty, smoothly finagles his way into the lives of the unwary.
Psycho: Anthony Perkins and Janet Leigh

Psycho was a sensation, the great groundbreaking masterpiece of Hitchcock’s later career.  The personality of Norman Bates is the crux of the plot and Anthony Perkins’s portrayal is both riveting and far-reaching. An engaging young fellow, Norman appears harmless and accommodating to those who stay at the Bates Motel.

Hitchcock cleverly selected actors for these roles who were not known for playing heavies; each was immensely talented as well as cast soundly against type.

Joseph Cotten, 37 when cast as Uncle Charlie, had made his screen debut in Citizen Kane (1941) as down-to-earth reporter Jedediah Leland. He had also portrayed the protagonist in Welles’s The Magnificent Ambersons (1942) and went on to play sympathetic leads in several films following Shadow of a Doubt.

Strangers on a Train: Farley Granger and Robert Walker
In his 2007 autobiography Farley Granger remembered that after he had been cast as Guy Haines, Hitchcock asked him what he would think if Robert Walker were to play Bruno Anthony in Strangers on a Train. Granger recalled Joseph Cotten in Shadow of a Doubt as “masterful surprise casting” and, thinking of Walker’s earlier roles, responded, “What a terrific idea!”

Walker, 31 when he portrayed Bruno, had been knocking around Hollywood for years, repeatedly cast in boy-next-door roles. He had played young servicemen throughout World War II – Bataan (1943), Since You Went Away (1944), Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo (1944), The Clock (1945) and in the Private Hargrove films. Strangers on a Train, a testament to his remarkable versatility, was the last film he completed before his sudden death.

Anthony Perkins in Psycho
Anthony Perkins, 28 when he played Norman Bates, had been cast mostly as sensitive, sincere young men prior to becoming a Hitchcock killer:  Friendly Persuasion (1956), Fear Strikes Out (1957), The Tin Star (1957) Green Mansions (1959). Afterward, Perkins became synonymous with Psycho and critic Robin Wood spoke for many when he mused, “…the saddest casualty of Norman Bates’s murder spree was Perkins’s career.”

None of these three actors had been or would ever be a top star though David O. Selznick tried hard to make a leading man of Cotten.  It's no stretch to say that each actor’s greatest role was his turn as a Hitchcock killer.

The relationship between these villainous characters is as interesting as the similarities the three actors share.
 
Robert Walker in Strangers on a Train
In his Hitchcock’s Films Revisited, Robin Wood pondered Hitchcock’s avowed disinterest in actors with a grain of salt:  “…one needs to account for the numerous superb performances…” and specifically referenced Cotten, Walker and Perkins. Though he acknowledged that some actors, left to their own devices, might capably seize the moment, Wood believed there was “…more reason to deduce that there are certain performances – or more exactly, certain roles – which arouse in Hitchcock a particular creative interest.”

What these three personalities seem to most obviously have in common is a complex psychology rooted in family relationships.

Joseph Cotten in Shadow of a Doubt
Early in Shadow of a Doubt it is revealed that dapper Uncle Charlie was the youngest in his family, badly spoiled by mother and older sister. His attitude toward men suggests he is used to being top dog and his attentiveness to women implies his seductive powers. But Charlie, with his “spirit wounded and festering” (Lindsay Anderson), is deeply disdainful of everyone.

Dissipated playboy Bruno Anthony of Strangers on a Train still lives at home in the family mansion. He is an only child, coddled by an addled mother and dismissed by a powerful father. Bruno seems to have little interest in women though, like Charlie, he manipulates them easily. While his behavior hints at sexual identity issues, he desperately schemes to dethrone his hated father.

Norman Bates in Psycho is also an only child. Norman appears to be the hapless victim of a domineering mother. Whatever the actual dynamics of the mother/son relationship, Norman never matured or successfully transitioned to manhood. He is awkward and twitchy, if sometimes boyishly charming, as he navigates the dark and chaotic world he shares with his mother.

Uncle Charlie visits Santa Rosa
Hitchcock additionally bestowed upon each of these villains one of his favorite motifs, a "double"…all three have one. Uncle Charlie and his namesake niece/twin, “Young Charlie,” engage in a fierce battle to the death. Bruno proposes to his less sinister double, Guy, that they “trade murders,” but later perceives a “double-cross”…and Norman, well, with Norman Hitchcock takes his fascination with alter-egos to the extreme; Norman has two personas.

In essence, each character is a progressive reworking of a character type and it strikes me how each also fits neatly into the era in which he "lives."

On the surface, Uncle Charlie is the most civilized of the three killers. He is courtly and chivalrous, very polished – and entitled. Shadow of a Doubt is set during the early days of WWII. As eventually in the war, good triumphs over evil, but much innocence is lost in the fight. David Sterritt commented on the turbulence of the early 1940s and saw Uncle Charlie as a depiction of  “a seemingly genuine (albeit very evil) mortal who indeed personifies the worst tendencies of that moment.”
Bruno in Washington, D.C.

Like Charlie, Bruno is also entitled and fairly polished, but his behavior is more erratic, his inconsistencies more visible. Strangers on a Train takes place during the post-war era in Washington, D.C., seat of power of newly affluent and upwardly mobile America. Bruno and Guy both have aspirations - Guy desires a new well-connected wife and a political career and Bruno plots for his father’s money and clout. Guy’s dreams appear to be within reach by the end, but he also seems destined for the conformity of a “gray flannel suit" (something Bruno would never have worn).

Norman has a naive sort of charm and is not at all sophisticated or polished. But like Bruno, his psychological conflicts are obvious early on. In Psycho just about everyone is nervous and on edge – it’s the Cold War era - but no one is more agitated than Norman Bates with his split-like-an-atom personality. The climax is an A-bomb, the ending an interlude on a psychiatrist’s couch…
Norman Bates at home
 
Uncle Charlie was the original prototype. Updated and fine-tuned he became the more baroque Bruno Anthony who evolved into shattered nowhere-man Norman Bates. All three are singularly conjured variants of what David Thomson has called the "smiling psychopath" - and legendary among Alfred Hitchcock's "successful villains." Strangers  on a Train, Shadow  of a Doubt and Psycho are all regularly cited on "top ten Hitchcock" lists...

For links to blogs participating in CMBA's HITCHCOCK BLOGATHON click here!