Experiments in Hitchcock: Rope (1948) and Under Capricorn (1949)

Alfred Hitchcock was nothing if not an experimenter, finding clever new ways to present movies. Two of his most divisive films are his most unconventional: Rope (1948) and Under Capricorn (1949). Before Orson Welles, Martin Scorsese and Alexander Sukurov, Hitchcock makes extensive use of long takes and unbroken master shots. Whether the movies are worthwhile, of course, is another matter.

Rope (1948)

Rope is Hitchcock's most notorious experiment, using a "single take" to adapt Patrick Hamilton's play. Critics rarely list Rope among his best work; Hitchcock himself called it a "stunt," telling Francois Truffaut it violated his focus on "the importance of cutting and montage." Rope holds up better for its thematic content than its directorial sleight-of-hand.

College students Brandon (John Dall) and Phillip (Farley Granger) murder classmate David, hoping a "perfect crime" will prove them superior. Hiding the body in a chest, they invite David's friends and family for dinner. Among the guests are David's fiancee Janet (Joan Chandler), jealous friend Kenneth (Douglas Dick), his straight-laced father (Cedrick Hardwicke) and aunt (Constance Collier). Also invited is Rupert (James Stewart), the boys' old teacher and intellectual mentor. Brandon and Phillip credit Rupert with inspiring their murder, and indeed Rupert quickly grows suspicious.

Rope can't be discussed without dissecting its direction. In 1948 Hitchcock could only achieve ten-minute takes and strains to maintain the illusion of unbroken shooting. Unable to cut at will, he employs a tracking camera, keying in on individuals and objects of importance. As Rupert unravels the murder, the camera follows his narration through the apartment. A time-elapse matte painting of the sky (including Hitchcock's cleverest cameo) changes subtly through the film. That Rope is first Hitchcock's first color movie is its least notable aspect!

Such technical virtuosity is a double-edged sword. The one-take gimmick appears impressive but on closer examination the seams show. Track-ins on characters' backs are awkwardly staged and Hitchcock even sneaks in a few undisguised cuts. Even if flawlessly executed Rope might seem an artificial exercise in craftsmanship. It's to Hitchcock's credit that things work so well.

Rope indeed seems primitive after the Steadicam achievements of Russian Ark and Children of Men. Then again, modern directors have more tools at their disposal. Long take shots are now an obvious, overused way of showing off. Joe Wright stages a five minute tracking shot in Atonement, but as a digitally-aided, self-contained sequence it's far less impressive. Hitchcock can't be faulted for using cruder methods, though his intent is ultimately similar.

Fortunately, Rope proves well-crafted on all levels. The story draws on Leopold and Loeb's Nietzsche-inspired murder with appropriate perversity. The homosexual content is surprisingly frank, with Brandon and Phillip engaging in sexual banter ("Can we stay like this for a minute?") and bickering like an old couple. Arthur Laurents seeds banal conversations with deathly puns that provide an air of black comedy. Brandon secretly gloats in his crime, dining off the chest with David's body and flaunting the murder weapon. This mixture of ghoulish humor and suspense proves delightfully Hitchcockian.

Some critics attack Rope as "anti-intellectual" but the film plays more ambiguously. Certainly its critique of Nietzsche and the "Superman" idea carries through strongly: when a character makes the obvious Nazi comparison, Brandon attacks Hitler merely for indiscriminate killing. But while Brandon and Phillip quickly credit Rupert with their idea, Brandon's pushy personality suggests individual inspiration. It's unclear whether Rupert's comments arose from a casual bull session or a more serious debate. Rupert's final speech is either self-serving or a pointed author's message about misusing ideas.

James Stewart seems awkwardly cast but provides a wry, intelligent performance. He certainly delivers the final peroration with conviction. John Dall (Spartacus) was never so well-used, playing a suitably charming creep, while Farley Granger's (Strangers on a Train) simpering nervousness makes an ideal contrast. The supporting cast performs competently, with Constance Collier's scatterbrained biddy standing out.

Under Capricorn (1949)

Rope transcends its gimmick through good acting and a compelling story. Under Capricorn has no such luck. Its main asset is cinematographer Jack Cardiff, whose Technicolor eye makes Capricorn pleasant to watch. It remains however a stolid, awkwardly-cast melodrama with few surprises.

Ne'er-do-well Charles Adaire (Michael Wilding) arrives in colonial Australia as a guest of the new Governor (Cecil Parker), his cousin. Charles hopes to strike it rich but soon gets embroiled in a love triangle. He falls for Lady Henrietta (Ingird Bergman), the distant, alcoholic wife of Samson Flusky (Joseph Cotten), an emancipated convict-turned-landowner. Servant Milly (Margaret Leighton) stokes Sam's suspicions, leading to an attempted murder and several shocking confessions.

Drawing from Helen Simpson's novel, Under Capricorn presents a class-driven melodrama. Australia is a nation of convicts, self-made nouveau riche clashing with snooty English gentry. This certainly plays into Milly's schemes, as she turns the proletariat Sam against his aristocratic wife. The concept's intriguing but never achieves take off. With so many indoor scenes Australia becomes an afterthought. The only native touches are a shrunken head and a throwaway line about platypuses.

The plot mechanics aren't impressive either. James Bridie's script apes Hitchcock's Rebecca, with its tormented wife, scheming servants, class differences and verbose murder confessions. The second half bogs down in long speeches while crucial events occur off-screen. Audience interest in the story dries up long before the climax.

Michael Wilding (The Scarlet Coat) is, at best, a likable stiff. Ingrid Bergman proves unusually flat and unengaged. Joseph Cotten gave his best performance in Hitchcock's Shadow of a Doubt, and here contributes one of his worst. Margaret Leighton (7 Women) excels in her Iago act but Cecil Parker (The Ladykillers) plays an officious bore. It's a shame seeing such good actors go to waste.

As before Capricorn makes a fine technical showpiece. Hitchcock uses more conventional long takes than Rope, with Cardiff's camera exploring governor's mansions, vast estates and dinner parties at length. The shots are visually impressive but don't distract from the dull story. Where Rope is entertaining, Under Capricorn is soporific.

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Stay tuned for more Hitchcock reviews, and perhaps even a horror flick or two. After all, Halloween looms right around the corner...