As one of the great filmmakers of 20th century cinema, Alfred Hitchcock has a keen eye for how he films his scenes. From the quick cuts in “Psycho”’s iconic shower scene to the unsettling point-of-view shots in “Rear Window,” Hitchcock relies on the precise details within the frames to help tell his stories.
In his 1951 film, “Strangers on a Train,” the narrative tells the tale of two men who meet on a train, and both reveal that they have someone in their lives they can’t stand. Bruno Anthony (Robert Walker) has the idea that each kills the individual the other person wants out of his life, so there won’t be any apparent motive. Guy Haines (Farley Granger) sarcastically agrees, thinking that Bruno is crazy. But, after Bruno (thinking Guy was serious) kills Guy’s target (his cheating wife), Bruno expects Guy to kill the former’s father in return. Guy refuses, but Bruno will stop at nothing to make sure their deal is complete.
Hitchcock uses his masterful sense of cinematography to unravel the suspense and intrigue that play out in these two lives that experience an unexpected collision.
The opening scene of the film employs unusual, yet interesting, tracking shots to show Guy and Bruno in the process of coming together. The film begins with a long-take establishing shot that results in a cab arriving and dropping of its passenger. As the taxi pulls up, the camera lowers to show the passenger walking out, but the viewer only sees the individual’s lower legs and feet, and wearing black and white shoes. Next, the camera cuts to another cab unloading a passenger, and again the viewer only sees the individual’s lower legs and feet, and wearing shoes that are all black. The camera then cuts back and forth to each pair of legs, with one pair looking as though it’s walking to the left and the other walking to the right, giving the impression that these two figures are eventually going to meet. This is a different way of introducing the main characters, seeing as the audience doesn’t get a view of their faces right away. The camera continues like this as they arrive on the train, until we see one foot accidentally touch the other. The viewer then sees which one is Guy and which one is Bruno.
As the two begin talking, Guy and Bruno are both framed in medium shots, so as to look like they are occupying much of the on-screen space, suggesting that the two have become so close in such a short span of time, and that they are soon to be trapped into a ghastly agreement. Those medium shots, as well as the shot-counter-shot editing, allow the audience to feel the deadly intimacy between the two characters. Guy and Bruno then move to the latter’s compartment, suggesting an even more enclosed space and feeling of impending entrapment in the murderous deal that will soon be made between them. As they are in the compartment, there is the continued use of medium shots and shot-counter-shot editing similar to a few minutes earlier.
Hitchcock uses some of his more inventive shots in the scene at the carnival. Here, Bruno is stalking Miriam (Laura Elliot) and her two friends throughout, and follows them to the Tunnel of Love ride. Once inside the tunnel, Hitchcock uses a tracking shot and films the shadows of the four individuals in their boats. During this, Hitchcock uses the characters’ shadows to make it seem as though Bruno is closer to them than he appears. The camera then cuts to the tunnel’s exit, where the viewer hears Miriam scream. The director’s use of off-screen space has the viewer believe Miriam has been attacked by Guy, but she then reappears and is just flirting with one of the boys she’s with.
Hitchcock uses his most creative shot when showing Miriam’s murder. In Donald Spoto’s book, “The Art of Alfred Hitchcock: Fifty Years of His Motion Pictures,” he says, “All this artistry comes together in a single moment of the film…the murder scene. Her (Miriam’s) eyeglasses fall to the ground and then…the camera observes…the final collapse of the woman as a huge reflection in one of the broken eyeglass lenses…a moment sprung to life from a terrible nightmare,” (195-196). As Bruno begins strangling Miriam, her glasses fall off, and the viewer sees the murder through the right-eye lens of the glasses. Because of this, the image becomes stretched out and somewhat distorted, providing a sense of the bizarreness and terror of the situation. Eye glasses become an important item throughout the film, so it’s appropriate that the viewer sees one of the film’s most significant moments through the lens of the glasses.
Hitchcock uses his most creative shot when showing Miriam’s murder. In Donald Spoto’s book, “The Art of Alfred Hitchcock: Fifty Years of His Motion Pictures,” he says, “All this artistry comes together in a single moment of the film…the murder scene. Her (Miriam’s) eyeglasses fall to the ground and then…the camera observes…the final collapse of the woman as a huge reflection in one of the broken eyeglass lenses…a moment sprung to life from a terrible nightmare,” (195-196). As Bruno begins strangling Miriam, her glasses fall off, and the viewer sees the murder through the right-eye lens of the glasses. Because of this, the image becomes stretched out and somewhat distorted, providing a sense of the bizarreness and terror of the situation. Eye glasses become an important item throughout the film, so it’s appropriate that the viewer sees one of the film’s most significant moments through the lens of the glasses.
The importance of the glasses comes up again in the scene at the tennis club. During this, Guy’s girlfriend’s younger sister, Barbara Morton (Patricia Hitchcock), meets Bruno for the first time. Her facial features and glasses offer some striking similarities to Miriam. As Bruno stares at her, there is a point-of-view shot that zeros in on Barbara in a close-up shot. In Jack Sullivan’s book, “Hitchcock’s Music,” he says, “The most elaborate crisscross involves the subconscious. In a pair of surreal scenes, Barbara…peers into Bruno’s eyes, which glower malevolently at her glasses; these mysteriously beam forth a flame from the nocturnal strangling, accompanied by “The Band Played On,” (159-160). The viewer hears the non-diegetic sound of the carnival music as images of Bruno holding Guy’s lighter are superimposed on the lens of Barbara’s glasses, reminding the viewer of the unconventional shot composition in Miriam’s murder scene.
Later in the film, there is a scene where something similar happens at a party at the Morton residence. As Bruno is demonstrating a strangling on a willing Mrs. Cunningham (Norma Varden), there is comparable cinematography in the framing of Bruno and Barbara. Barbara comes into Bruno’s view as he’s demonstrating on Mrs. Cunningham, and they exchange stares. As Bruno is looking at Barbara, the camera moves from a medium shot to a close-up of her as the carnival music begins to play again, and this reminds the audience of Barbara’s physical similarities to Miriam, Bruno’s murder victim. Just like their first encounter, there are close-up shots of both of them, providing a feeling of deadly intimacy between them.
The film’s climactic scene that takes the viewer back to the carnival is another thrillingly shot sequence. Guy and Bruno chase each other onto the merry-go-round that soon begins to spin faster and out of control. The constant spinning that is seen as Guy and Bruno are on the ride provides a rather disorienting feeling as the viewer sees the area around the two speeding by in blur as they spin. This feeling is similar to that of vertigo in other Hitchcock films where a character is looking down from a high area. As this is happening, there are shots of a man crawling under the merry-go-round to try and get to the controls to stop it. The camera is positioned under the ride as the man crawls. He is framed in such a way that the viewer sees him in a medium shot with the merry-go-round spinning above him. This framing puts the viewer on edge because there isn’t much room between the man and the spinning platform, so he is dangerously close to getting hurt or killed. Near the end, after the man pulls the levers, the viewer gets a full shot of the merry-go-round as it comes to a crashing stop, completely breaking down in the process.
With Hitchcock’s professional and creative use of cinematography, he has been able to frame certain shots that deserve much discussion after whatever film they appear in. From the unconventional introduction of the two main characters to the disquieting framing of the murder scene, the invigorating strangeness of the cinematography adds a great deal to the unfurling of this unusual murder tale.
Works Cited
Spoto, Donald. The Art of Alfred Hitchcock: Fifty Years of His Motion Pictures. New York: Anchor Books, 1992.
Sullivan, Jack. Hitchcock’s Music. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2006.
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