THE BIRDS
D: Alfred Hitchcock (1963): with Tippi Hedren, Rod Taylor, Jessica Tandy, Suzanne Pleshette.
This movie scared me to death when I was five. My parents had dumped the four of us at the theatre for the afternoon, and two hours later, I was a swollen, puffy mess, still sobbing from the horror I had witnessed. That was 35 years ago, but the way my sister still sadistically laughs at me, you’d think it happened yesterday. It is with a wizened eye that I now watch The Birds, but I still think it contains some of the scariest scenes ever put on film. Done entirely without music, these scenes unreel with alarming suspense. The theme of nature run amok has been made into mincemeat in the decades since and seldom with Hitchcock’s deft touch. Much is made about the outdated special effects, but they are mild compared to the over-usage in modern films. Tippi Hedren, whom Hitchcock spotted in a diet drink commercial and turned into his latest obsession, debuts as the cool and soignée Melanie Daniels, socialite at large. Hedren, who named her daughter Melanie (Griffith) after her character, subsequently had a less-than-stellar career, starring in such classics as Teresa’s Tattoo and Return to Green Acres. The plot line involving Daniels and her pursuit of attorney Mitch Brenner definitely has problems but seems necessary to create atmosphere and set the stage for the real stars of the movie — the birds. There are so many birds in this movie, billing and cooing with an innocence that belies their malevolence, that the nightmare unfolding on the screen must have been rivaled by the nightmare on the set. Tales of tranquilizing the birds and wiring them in place surely would cause distress among animal-rights activists today. Tandy is chill and formidable as Mitch’s mother Lydia, and Pleshette, as schoolteacher Annie Hayworth, is one of the most interesting characters in the movie. Her final scene is most memorable, as she is found face-down in front of her home, pecked to death. The climactic attack at Mitch’s home is sheer brilliance. As the birds peck through the door and gather in the attack, a breathtaking sense of madness is unleashed. The ambiguity of the ending has been roundly criticized, but it is most successful in suggesting that the story is not quite over. (Of course, it wasn’t quite over — it had to be insulted with a sequel, The Birds II.) Hitchcock’s classic has acquired a certain campiness over the years, allowing the sophisticated viewer to look past the obvious plot devices and find an arch humor in the classic scenes, indelible in our memories: Melanie getting clocked on the forehead by a seagull; the crotchety ornithologist at the cafe; the scene with the guy whose eyes have been pecked out; the amassing of the birds at the schoolhouse, where the children are singing what is surely the longest children’s song ever written. These days, Tippi has become a popular Halloween costume — just pin a bird in your wig, and you’re instantly Melanie Daniels. It’s easy to laugh at something that used to be scary, but is there anyone that doesn’t think of The Birds whenever they see more than a dozen of them together?
This article appears in May 11 • 2001.