Hitchcock often complained that he was unable to get actors of equal ability in the two most important male roles: for instance, the crime-solving writer in “Dial M” is not the equal of the charismatic murderer; the psychopath in “Strangers on a Train” vastly overshadows the semi-innocent tennis player; and the killer in “Psycho” is exponentially more interesting than the man who catches him. But with “Blackmail,” Hitchcock lucks out with a villain-hero and a hero-villain who are as equal to each other as they are equal parts good and bad. The girl, meanwhile, knows what the right thing to do is, but spends much of the movie looking for the strength to do it. If the cop’s attempts to cover-up the crime are an extension of his lust for pushing his will on others, then the girl’s inability to act—to “take a stand”—is an extension of her initial shrewishness.
For all its simplicity, pauses, and silent actors who aren’t quite used to dialogue (early talkies tend to be hot-and-cold during the non-silent sections), “Blackmail” is in many ways as consummate a Hitchcock film as any of his greats. One toughs his way through “The Jazz Singer” as a part of one’s cinematic education, but “Blackmail” is good on its own.
Finished Friday, July 22nd, 2005
Copyright © 2005 Friday & Saturday Night
Page one of "Blackmail." Back to home.