The Absolutely Awful First Ten Minutes of This Movie
I spend a lot of time traversing imdb singing the praises of Alfred Hitchcock, director.
I'm generally not into going to boards to attack movies or stars. Its not my thing. Praise is more constructive.
But I think it is also constructive sometimes to note when something has gone terribly wrong with a movie...particularly if it leads to wondering: why?
Especially with Alfred Hitchcock.
After Hitchcock got his comeback hit with "Frenzy" in 1972, it took longer than ever for the next one to appear: "Family Plot" in 1976. Hitch had many illnesses in the intervening years, and spent forever developing "Family Plot"'s script. It was if he kept dawdling to try to avoid making the movie, and finally figured: I've got to make this thing. My Universal offices overhead needs payment.
I didn't realize how ill Hitchcock had been until, in 1976, I watched the first ten minutes (roughly) of the movie.
It starts most promisingly, with a crystal ball filling the screen to John Williams' heavenly choir humming with excitement. The credits are brief: Alfred Hitchcock's Family Plot. Screenplay by Ernest Lehman. Directed by Alfred Hitchcock. That's it. No cast. Then Barbara Harris' face fills the crystal ball, which fades away to the scene: Harris in a study conducting a seance with old Julia Rainbird (Cathleen Nesbitt.)
The cinematography is rather gorgeous here, not quite "Vertigo"-level, but close enough, with rich reds filling the screen offset a bit by some greens. Harris sits in a chair across from Nesbitt and talks in the deep voice of the "man" ("Henry") who guides her "psychic powers." Mesmerizingly beautiful, this sequence is.
And then: it starts happening. To cover it quickly here is to miss the effect of how SLOWLY it all happens there:
Plot exposition pours forward, pages and pages of it. Too much of it, during the seance, as Harris talks in her manly "trance voice" and Nesbitt tosses out exposition. This goes on and on and on and on (we get it: Julia forced her sister to give up a child and wants to find him and give him her fortune; he's now about 40.) This goes SO on and on and on and on that John Williams music stops for a moment...and then starts up again, as if Williams tried to stop the scene but couldn't. (In a key moment, we see Harris "peek" out of her trance; she's faking. How cute.)
Now Harris comes out of her trance, and asks "what happened?" And Julia Rainbird proceeds AGAIN to tell the exposition about her sister and the kid and the money and he's forty now. And THIS goes on and on and on and on and on.
Finally, the two characters leave this pretty red room and go out into the hall, where more exposition ensues. It goes merely...on and on.
The effect of all this is MOST demoralizing. Why didn't Hitchcock take an editing pencil to the script here? Or editing scissors to the scene? Way too long, way too redundant and -- worst of all -- not dramatic or comedic enough to truly entertain us.
Harris leaves the house, and, in a nice nighttime outdoor shot, gets into the cab of her goofy lover, Bruce Dern. The cab drives off.
Inside the cab: more demoralization: the process work is horrendous, even for Hitchcock. I call it "the matte shot that ate Bruce Dern's head." Universal evidently suckered Hitchcock into accepting a new-fangled "in the lab" process that was, this movie proved, just horrible.
So Dern asks Harris what Nesbitt told her and -- Oh no! Oh no! -- Harris proceeds to tell Dern the whole damn exposition about the missing male heir AGAIN. On and on and on and on. This time, admittedly, there are more one-liners, and Harris is very good here at playing a cutesie-pie sharpster. Unfortunately, some of the one-liners are well below par for Ernest "North by Northwest" Lehman ("Without my investigations," Dern says, "you'd be about as psychic as a salami" "I'm tired of you having me by the crystal balls.")
One good Hitchcockian touch: Dern in the front seat keeps turning his head back to talk at Harris in the back seat, and after awhile he keeps it turned so much that some suspense sets in: hey, look in FRONT of you, buddy, you might hit --
-- and he almost DOES hit the mysterious Karen Black, and in a wonderful moment, ("criss-cross," the theme of "Family Plot") the story now takes up Black's kidnapping ransom mission...and gets better.
Still: those first ten minutes. Really bad. The mark of a director too old to know or care about what he was doing. One critic wrote of the redundant exposition: "Does Hitchcock think we weren't smart enough to understand it the first time?" Maybe so. I had a very old grandfather who would pull out a map and draw directions for you to drive four blocks. Sometimes older people obsess on details.
The slow and overdone opening of "Family Plot" was particularly demoralizing given how tight and crisp the first few scenes of "Frenzy" had been one film (and four years) earlier. Hitchcock lost something in those four years.
One more thing: nothing made me sadder in watching those ten minutes than knowing that HITCHCOCK WAS IN THE ROOM WITH ME. And 498 people. You see, we were all at the world premiere of "Family Plot" at the 1976 FILMEX film festival in Los Angeles, and "Family Plot" was the opening movie.
We all "made nice" as an audience for "Family Plot," given that Hitch was there. We laughed at every joke, and applauded the good moments (of which there are many in the second hour especially -- the cemetary criss-cross and Harris's fateful ringing of a doorbell, for instance.)
Still, those first ten minutes prove the "auteur theory." When your auteur is old and ill and not focussed, the movie looks pretty much the same way.
At least Hitchcock got better as "Family Plot" moved along. Maybe he got a "second wind."