by Gwyn Conaway
The Birds , directed by Alfred Hitchcock, premiered on March 28th, 1963.
Just yesterday I saw Alfred Hitchcock’s new film The Birds. On its surface, the premise is quite simple — the avians in a peaceful locale suddenly turn murderous. It's a superb piece of suspense from the unarguable master of such things. As the sun rose this morning and I sipped my coffee, I wondered if the little songbirds in my garden could ever turn on me. What a chilling thought!
Of course, try as Hitchcock might to distract me with scenes of feathered terror, being me, I couldn’t help but notice the costume design. And while, the pre-release copy of the film I saw was in black and white, my privileged position at the studio let me observe the costumes in person (and in living color). With the film released, I can finally share what I’ve seen!
Costume designer Edith Head masterfully combined the sleepy seaside palette with the elegance of the city through cut and fit. Lydia Brenner, played by the talented Jessica Tandy, is a great example of this harmony. Her fabrics are those that we associate with the country. Tweeds and contrast knits in particular are found throughout her design. However, her silhouettes are fresh and metropolitan. Head even mixes in fine silks to give her an air of sophistication. This combination also illuminates the teetering balance Brenner tries to maintain between a domineering and doting mother.
Lydia’s tweed cocoon coat is a beautiful example of how the fashion-forward city silhouette has creeped into Bodega Bay while maintaining the little coastal town’s country charm.
In this casual evening ensemble, we can see her motherly conundrum. Note the fine silk charmeuse blouse beneath the contrast knit cardigan. The “knit” side of Lydia’s personality is docile, while the “silk” side is conniving.
This subtle design emphasizes the obvious tension between Lydia and Melanie, played by Tippi Hedren, a socialite with designs on Lydia's son. Melanie is a city girl through and through. Her palettes play on this contrast. Her dress suit and fur jacket drip with metropolitan wealth.
When she borrowed a dinghy to sneak across the bay, I was struck with the direct comparison of the texture of the docks to her red fox fur coat. I realized that, in her own misguided way, she was using the natural texture of the fur to try helplessly to blend in with the little town; a detail that lends itself to her rather clumsy and charming game.
The star of the film was obviously her dress suit. The costume is an open jacket with small patch pockets that sit low on the hem and sleeve cuffs that fall just above the wrist. It’s cut to perfection with a single vertical dart from shoulder to bust that helps the jacket maintain a square yet smooth shape over the bust. The matching dress beneath is a sheath cut, sleeveless, with a three-inch wide self belt and an invisible zipper down the center back. What you can’t deduce from the release of the film, however, is that the dress suit is a tangy, energetic pistachio green!
Beautiful, isn’t it?
Draped in the color of spring, is it any wonder that Lydia feels threatened by the young and boisterous Melanie? Certainly not. However, I think the real source of Lydia’s uneasiness lies in Mitch’s wardrobe.
Lydia's son, Mitch Brenner, played by Rod Taylor (star of The Twilight Zone and The Time Machine, is a man caught between the slow-paced life of Bodega Bay and the bustling hubbub of the city. Although the seaside town is his escape, he is always destined to leave it for San Francisco.
Note that his styling, the ribbed fishing captain’s sweater paired with the paisley ascot, is that of a wealthy yachter rather than the resident of a coastal town.
Residents of Bodega Bay holed up in the local cafe with Melanie. The contrast in texture between her smooth dress suit and the local nappy textiles help her stand out among the crowd. Compare their looks with Mitch above for a similar effect.
At the same time, he follows his mother’s habits of using fashionable silhouettes with more textured fabrics. The suit he wears to his sister’s birthday party is an excellent example. A slender tie paired with a wide-gorge shirt collar and a high notch on the lapel of his suit jacket make for a very trendy man.
Rather than being concerned over the women in his life, perhaps Lydia is concerned for the patterns she sees within her son. Is he destined to forget her? Will he leave her like his father did before him?
The frenzy of the birds in Bodega Bay is a terrifying mystery. They seem to gather against humans without cause. However, I wonder if the answers don’t lie in Lydia’s fears. The birds crowd the town’s residents gradually and then strike with sudden ferocity. A similar feeling is commonly associated with anxiety. Lydia’s fears about her son are chronic with acute moments of panic. Could Lydia, in fact, be the subconscious cause of the birds?
I can only imagine that the connection is deliberate. Just as Edith Head wove the fabric of the costumes with the psyche of the characters, so Hitchcock wove a deeper theme into his film, elevating a "monster flick" into cinema for the ages.
Thank you for an interesting perspective on this strange and frightening film.
In my part of the world, it was released in Technicolor!
So it was! The film was shot using the yellow screen process at Disney, to be specific. The one-of-a-kind sodium vapor camera is a Technicolor camera, but exposes two films with a prism. I must admit that I saw the black-and-white cut of the film without the color negative before it was finalized for wide release.
It was an honor to see the camera. Other films that have been shot on it include Mysterious Island (1961) and Plain Sailing (1956).
Yes, it was filmed in Technicolor, not Black and White. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0056869/?ref_=nv_sr_4
Where did you see it?
Alas, I should have seen the film in theaters! I saw the sodium vapor black-and-white negative prior to combining the matte with the color film and jumped the gun.
The technology behind the yellow screen process is state-of-the-art and truly one-of-a-kind. (Unlike bluescreen, there is almost no haloing effect!) It's a shame that only one beam-splitting prism has been successfully made. I hope Disney is able to build more sodium vapor cameras, but I have my suspicions that they're working against the odds.
I tell ya it takes a lot for a prose story to feel creepy to me but Daphne du Maurier's The Birds did that. For what seems a straight piece of prose it really worms it way into your trans-cranial dynamics.