December 27, 2018
Rich
and Strange – UK, 1932
A word of caution right off the bat. My low
opinion of Alfred Hitchcock’s Rich and
Strange may have less to do with any deficiencies the film has – and there
are many – than it does the atrocious quality of the DVD I watched it on. The
film, like many of Hitchcock’s early works, was released by LaserLight, and its
DVD is touted as a special edition. In fact, one of the things that makes it a
special edition is the following claim: “Digitally mastered from the best
available sources for the highest quality possible.” If we take the company at
its word – and there is really no reason not to at this point – then the
hisses, scratches, and indecipherable dialogue are all deficiencies that simply
could not be fixed. Therefore, this line of thinking goes, we should be content
with what we have and not lament what we do not.
So, what then do we actually have with Rich and Famous? The film is about a
struggling married couple, Fred and Emily Hill (Henry Kendall and Joan Barry),
one of whom laments what they don’t have, and the other that is grateful for
the few blessing they do. We learn early on that Fred has a wealthy uncle and
that he has recently suggested that he not be made to wait until his uncle’s
death to enjoy the riches that are eventually coming his way. Surprisingly, his
uncle agrees, and after an early scene in which Fred complains about their economic
struggles and the hardships that come with them, Fred’s face quickly lights up,
as he reads of his uncle’s generosity and begins to contemplate what to do with
his newfound fortune. Do they buy a bigger house? Upgrade their means of
transportation? Purchase the latest technology in order to make their lives
easier? Nope, they elect to travel.
While there is nothing about these early
scenes that foreshadows what comes next, it is important to remember what
people often put up with when they don’t believe that have the option of
leaving. If we keep this in mind, then what follows begins to make more sense,
for once on the boat, both Fred and Emily begin to yearn for new lives and new
lovers. While Fred lies in bed with a fever and possible delirium, Emily begins
spending time with a handsome bachelor named Gordon (Percy Marmont), who seems
quite popular with members of the opposite sex. In one scene, we see a horde of
women accost him while he is engaged in conversation with Emily, each one
wanting him to join her for lunch or dancing. After recovering, Fred takes up
with a German woman who claims to be a princess (Betty Amann), and for some
time, each of them puts all of their time and efforts into their new relationships.
They even begin to contemplate divorce.
While Hitchcock devotes ample time to Emily
budding romance with Gordon, he neglects to establish Fred’s devotion to the
Princess. Perhaps this is a case in which the eyes confuse the heart, yet
Hitchcock does not even explore that possibility. Perhaps, though, it would be
more accurate to say that it does not appear that he does, for much of Fred’s
dialogue with the princess is indistinct.
A more daring movie would have addressed
the fact that the pair’s relationship falls apart as a result of their newfound
cash flow. Traditionally, tackling hardships and making sacrifices were seen as
proof that a couple’s bond was strong. Yet, it is often said that the true test
of a relationship comes when those challenges are removed. In other words, is
the bond still as strong when they no longer have to rely on each other for emotional
or financial support, or when the kids have moved out and there is less that
they are working together on? Dale Collins’s screenplay never explores these
issues, likely because the times did not really encourage it. Convention seemed
to dictate that a couple that was pulled apart had find their way back into
love and each other’s arms by the end of the film. It’s a cop-out, really, one
unfortunately found in many films from this and later eras.
In the end, the film simply didn’t hold my
interest. Partly as a result of the rushed set-up and the predictable ending,
and partly due to the quality of the DVD, the film never quite packs a punch.
It is not zany enough to be a comedy or dramatic enough to keep viewers more
than mildly interested in whether Fred and Emily find each other again. At
least, the film ends better than it begins. It is entirely believable that two
people would get back together under such circumstances, yet it is hardly
believable that they would ever truly be happy again. And wisely, the film
acknowledges this. Nonetheless, to me it was too little, too late: I just didn’t
care anymore. No, that’s not exactly true. I did care because as the film ended,
all I could think was: See, she should
have stayed with Gordon, a sentiment I'm not sure Hitchcock intended.
Hitchcock didn’t misfire much, yet when he
did, he did so with such great flare that it seems practically criminal to give
the film a bad review. After all, what about the camera work, the use of light
and shadows, the carefully choreographed scenes of workers leaving the factory
in ways reminiscent of Fritz Lang or Busby Berkeley, or the moving performances
of his leading lady? Surely, those things warrant a positive review, one that includes
the acknowledgement of this as “less Hitchcock.” To them I would say this: What
about the tonal inconsistencies, the frequent use of techniques more common in
silent films than talking ones, and the fact that the film never presents Fred
as someone worth returning to? I could go on, but what would be the point? Rich and Strange is truly for Hitchcock aficionados
only. Everyone else, I’m afraid, is likely to be left wondering what happened
to the genius behind the camera. The answer is simple: He was off his game. It
happens to the best of them. (on DVD)
2 stars
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