“Inevitably, though, sometimes it was just him and me, and it was usually the same excruciating dance. He would find some way to express his obsession with me, which he never referred to as an obsession, as if I owed it to him to reciprocate somehow. I would find some way to make it clear that his obsession wasn’t reciprocated and never would be. He’d become cruel and petulant and then, within a few hours or a few days, start all over again.”
There is no doubt the statements above sound like they could be coming from either a tawdry horror novel about a stalker and his prey or from a contemporary piece of #MeToo non-fiction devoted to the likes of predators such as Harvey Weinstein or Bill Cosby. But they are not. They come from actress Tippi Hedren’s 2016 memoir and they are about the “Master of Suspense” himself: Alfred Hitchcock. Much of the autobiography is about her life and career, both before and after The Birds; however, there are multiple times throughout where Hedren speaks to Hitchcock’s dangerously amorous personality. In fact, Hedren claims at one point Hitchcock physically accosted her while they were filming Marnie, which obviously was the final straw to what was a highly abusive relationship, one he seemingly had with many of his flaxen starlets. As Laurence Leamer, in his new book Hitchcock’s Blondes: The Unforgettable Women behind the Legendary Director’s Dark Obsession, much of what Hitchcock did would be “enough that in the #MeToo mood of today, he would have been fortunate if only his hands were slapped,” as would have been the case back in the early days of Hollywood. This is where Leamer’s work thrives in that he is quick to point out that not only was Hitchcock completely obsessed with these actresses but that he was also a disturbing letch who seemingly devoted his time to having complete control over both the cameral and those in front of it.
To be clear, Leamer does not place harsh judgment on Hitchcock and his distressing proclivities, as easy of a target as he was; the book is neither a subjectively-written rant nor a feminist tome about female injustice or empowerment. Instead, Hitchcock’s Blondes is about the tenacity, drive, and difficult personal lives of the women who graced the silver screen during a time of great misogyny in and outside of Tinsel Town: June Howard-Tripp; Madeliene Carroll; Ingrid Bergman; Grace Kelly; Kim Novak; Eva Marie Saint; Janet Leigh; and, the aforementioned Tippi Hedren. Although Hitchcock famously was not an actor’s director, what Leamer suggests is that these women as well as the many more that were in Hitchcock’s films, were integral in their respective movies’ success and, more importantly, in Hitchcock being the director that he was. As much power as he presented to those on set while filming, he was nothing but a scared, petulant, horny little boy who lived a life of insecurity associated with his looks, his weight, and his humble beginnings being “the son of a greengrocer and an Irish mother.” Hitchcock knew these actresses had a hold on his libido and the only way he was able to command authority and, in an odd way, feel comfortable around these beautiful women was to play childish pranks to make them blush, recite dirty limericks and tell off-color jokes, and torture them while he filmed them in precarious situations such as when handcuffed or when trapped in a room while being attacked by murderous winged beasts. And yet, even if they got embarrassed or frustrated or revolted by Hitchcock’s indecency, all of them, with dignity and with elegance, did their job to ensure the project was both finished and lucrative.
Hitchcock’s Blondes presents readers with an understanding that these women, against all odds, managed to have enough strength and character to reject Hitchcock’s advances and disregard his immature nastiness, to become the central focus of his movies. The actresses named above are forever going to be remembered as talented, dynamic, funny, and influential in the industry; they commanded the screen not only because of the way they looked (which is why they were hand-picked by Hitchcock) but more so because of their abilities to entertain and enthrall the masses. Also, these women were able to give brilliantly rich performances in spite of Hitchcock’s harassment, in spite of the industrialized patriarchy, in spite of their tumultuous relationships at home with spouses or lovers or both. Leamer makes it known, with each chapter focusing on a different actress, that each sometimes suffered with unhappy marriages, divorces, bad habits and behaviors, and breakdowns. Although perceived by the moviegoing public as blonde, angelic figures of male desire, of Hitchcock’s desire, they were human beings who just-so-happened to live a chaotic life of affluence and opulence, so much so that, for some, it would become their downfall.
There are moments in Hitchcock’s Blondes where Leamer dryly devotes time to summarizing Hitchcock’s films to ensure readers understand the storylines if they have not seen the films, and there are moments where stylistically Leamer writes with a slight fan magazine quality that comes from writing about celebrities for many years (he has written books about the Kennedys, Johnny Carson, Arnold Schwarzenegger, among others), but the book is not meant to be a theoretical, scholarly understanding of Hitchcock’s representations of women in his films. With that said, whether intentionally or not, Leamer brings about a very serious discussion point and question that needs addressing: How should cancel culture be used for not only films of the past but for personalities from the past? In contemporary culture, when a celebrity does something deemed problematic, the cancelling of that individual is swift and far reaching. But what about those that have passed away and have done known harm to another? Should there be a closer look at those individuals? Leamer does not explicitly answer that question; however, he does bring about an argument for future conversation. Hitchcock’s films are masterpieces, no doubt. He was truly one of the greatest filmmakers of the 20th century; and yet he was undeniably a sadomasochistic misogynist who consciously inflicted psychological and physical torment on women, whom he found sexually attractive, for his pleasure and for the enjoyment of an audience all too willing to except his chicanery. Hitchcock’s Blondes strongly helps show Hitchcock aficionados, those that revere him for his undeniable talent, that the director tried to degrade and tear down these stalwart and accomplished women, fortunately, to no avail. As Tippi Hedren says in her memoir about her experience making The Birds, “It was a thrilling, amazing time. I never forgot for on moment that it was all happening because of Alfred Hitchcock, I never forgot for one moment that I’d earned it. I didn’t feel like a smoke-and-mirrors Hitchcock illusion anymore. I felt like a full-fledged movie star who’d worked hard for the privilege.”