El tercer tiro

This is a real change-of-pace from Hitchcock, and some of his most devoted fans do not really enjoy "The Trouble With Harry", but it is quite entertaining if you appreciate Hitchcock's subtle British sense of humor. There are funnier black comedies, but this one holds up pretty well, and has a number of things going for it.

'Harry' appears only as a dead body, discovered at the beginning of the film in a clearing outside a picturesque New England town. More than one of the residents feels responsible for Harry's death - so, just by being there, Harry sets off a lengthy chain of events in the lives of several persons in the town. There are no tremendous laughs, but a lot of good low-key wit, much of it having to do what the situation brings out about the various characters' perspectives on themselves and others. The cast is pretty good, and the scenery is beautiful, some of the best in any Hitchcock film.

There is not the action or suspense in this one that most fans associate with Hitchcock. But if you appreciate Hitchcock's sense of humor - for example, the kinds of subtly ghoulish remarks that he used to make on his television shows - give it a try.

So it begins, the famous collaboration between suspense maestro Hitchcock and composer legend Herrmann to bring the world . . . a comedy? I went into the film not really knowing what to expect, though with Hitchcock's name I assumed thriller. Within minutes, though, Hitch and Benny helped me shift gears and accept Trouble with Harry for what it is: a tongue-in-cheek ride with a side of murder and a wicked sense of humor and dead on timing.

Within the opening five minutes, my jaw dropped at the sheer ludicrousy of the movie's premise – the offbeat reactions of all the characters to the troubled Harry – and how I laughed at the audacity the film had to throw so many off the wall characters into a situation that grew more and more outrageous with every passing frame and keep running with a straight face.

We get a retired ship captain, an old woman looking for love, a troubled widow, an artist with a taste for the weird, a dead guy, and it only gets more and more strange, folks. The plot? It goes in circles over and over and over again, and not much really happens as this group tries to figure out Harry and what to do with him. Needless to say, The Trouble with Harry walks dangerously close to disaster, but Hitchcock does something remarkable: he lets his style seduce the audience into suspending their disbelief, sitting back, and trusting the master of black comedy.

That is what I love about Hitchcock and about Trouble with Harry – he is so confident in his films and his audience that he knowingly presents the absurd where other filmmakers wouldn't dare go in fear of losing the audience. He knows precisely which ties to reality he can afford to cut free, and he so gracefully and fearlessly lets go of "realism" in favor of his own flavor of the surreal. The Trouble with Harry presents some of the goofiest characters to ever appear on screen with some of the strangest logic-defying ideas, and I love them for it.

How does it work? The film simply resonates with the charms Hitchcock fans have grown to adore – how the grassy hill looked like a set, the witty dialogue between the characters (the captain and Sam cracked me up every time), the mastery of frame composition (loved the first few shots of Harry), and Bernard Herrmann's delightful score that perfectly reflects the tone and feel of the film. Murder never felt so whacky and wonderful. It's that same world of Hitchcock that made us, the audience, forget about logic and realism when we viewed North by Northwest, Psycho, and Rear Window.

Realism is boring. As Sir Alfred, himself, stated, "Most films are slices of life. Mine are slices of cake." And indeed, his world is so much more fun. Screw reality.

This movie is a gem that's easily overlooked since it is a comedy by the "master of suspense." Fans already know he had also mastered the art of black comedy, and the only phrase I need in describing the film to fellow Hitch fans is "pure cinema." The Trouble with Harry is Hitchcock at his best, and it's no trouble at all to sit through.

Lovely colourful photography of Vermont. A fantastic adorable debut from Shirley Maclaine that earned her a Golden Globe. Amusing, endearing performances by all characters. And a large dose of Hitchcockian humour that begins with the credits. However the doctor who reads while walking and stumbling was a bit over the top.

One thing I really admire about Hitchcock was that he was willing to experiment, and wasn't content to make the same movie over and over. This meant that he sometimes made movies that puzzled his audiences, and several of them were out and out flops. But the passage of time has been kind to many of these movies which can be enjoyed for what they are, not what the audience WANTED them to be. 'The Trouble With Harry' is a great example. Many of Hitchcock's movies have humour in them, but an actual comedy was a bit left field for him. And not just any kind of comedy, a very black one. Humour is very subjective, but I found this movie to very clever and a lot of fun. It gets off to a bit of a shaky start with John Forsythe's character coming out with some unfunny lines and bits of business, but once the story kicks in and the characters played by Edmund Gwenn and Mildred Natwick are introduced, the movie becomes very amusing. Forsythe is technically the star of the movie, and Shirley MacLaine (in her movie debut) the leading lady, but Natwick, and especially Gwenn, steal the picture, and to me have the best lines. Edmund Gwenn was also in the underrated 1950s monster movie 'Them!', and I'm really fond of him. I also get a kick out of Royal Dano who plays the sheriff. Dano was a very interesting character actor who was in everything from 'Moby Dick' to 'Drum' to 'Killer Klowns From Outer Space'. To be totally honest 'The Trouble With Harry' wouldn't make it into my Top Ten Hitchcock movies, but that is only because he made so many great ones, and it's tough to choose, not because this is poor movie. If you want an edge of your seat thriller then maybe this isn't for you, but if you thought Hitch's droll introductions on his TV show were entertaining, then you should check this one out, as it's cut from the same cloth.

With all humor, you either get the "joke" or you don't. If you don't, no amount of explaining can change your mind. If you do, the details are endlessly enjoyable.

Part of the joke that's "The Trouble With Harry" is that "nothing happens." Hitchcock's "anti-Hitchcock" film defies expectations for action, shock, mayhem, suspense, spectacular climaxes on national monuments, etc. Instead, it's a New England cross-stitch of lovingly detailed writing, acting, photography, directing and editing.

Saul Steinberg's title illustration tells you exactly what you're in for. One long pan of a child's drawing of birds and trees . . . ending with a corpse stretched out on the ground as "Directed by Alfred Hitchcock" briefly appears.

So meticulously is "The Trouble With Harry" conceived, the only two images in the title art that are NOT trees, plants or birds are a house with a rocking chair on its porch and that corpse. The film literally plays in reverse of the title sequence -- from little Arnie's (Jerry Mathers, pre-Beaver. The boy who drew the titles?) discovery of the corpse, back to the home with the rocking chair, as Hitchcock's final "joke" puts the audience safely to bed. A double bed, in this case.

What's the film about? Oh, Great Big Themes like Life and Death, Youth and Age, Love and Hate, Guilt and Innocence, Truth and Lies, Art and Pragmatism -- packaged with deceptive simplicity.

The "hero," Sam Marlowe (John Forsythe), is an artist. The man the "child" who drew the titles (Arnie, or someone like him) might have become. His name is an amalgamation of two of hard-boiled fiction's greatest detectives: Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe. Indeed, Sam Marlowe functions here as a "sort of" detective. But enough of pointing out the detailed construction of this script and film: repeated viewings yield far greater pleasures.

"Introducing Shirley MacLaine" in her first screen role threw that enduring actress into an astounding mix of old pros: Edmund Gwenn, Mildred Dunnock, Mildred Natwick and Forsythe. That MacLaine held the screen then, and still does 50 years later (name another major actor who can say that), validates Hitchcock's astute casting.

In fact, TTWH is a tribute to cinematic "acting" as much as anything else. These are among the finest performances ever captured of these terrific actors. Since there are none of the expected "spectacular" Hitchcock sequences, nor his nail-biting tension, all that's left is for the actors to fully inhabit their characters.

That they do with brilliance, efficiency and breathtaking comic timing. No pratfalls here. Just nuances.

Edmund Gwenn and Mildred Natwick are the real stars. Had Hitchcock said so, the film would never have been produced. Their scenes (they receive as much if not more screen time together than Forsythe and MacLaine) are possibly the most delightful (and yes, romantically and sexually tense) ever filmed of courtship in middle-and-old age. Perfectly realized in every intonation and gesture. Occasionally laugh-out-loud funny.

Theirs is paralleled by the courtship of the younger "stars," Forsythe and MacLaine. "Love" at both ends of life, young and old, and love's wonderful humor and mysterious redemption, even in the face of death -- that inconvenient corpse on the hill.

Perhaps the most surprising and powerful undertow in "The Trouble With Harry" (one hesitates to name it because it's handled so delicately) is Sex.

It is only barely present in the lines given the characters, but the subtext is always there. Occasionally, it boils over into an infinitely subtle burlesque, as in the exchange between Gwenn and Forsythe about crossing Miss Gravely's (get that name?) "threshold" for the first time.

The look in Gwenn's eyes and the repressed joy and romantic hope in his face -- even at his stage of life -- is bliss.

The coffee cup and saucer "for a man's fingers;" the ribbon for Miss Gravely's newly-cut hair (Wiggy cuts it in the general store -- Mildred Dunnock in another unbelievably subtle performance -- muttering, "Well, I guess it will grow back."); Arnie's dead rabbit and live frog; the constantly shifting implications of guilt in the death of "Harry" up there on the hill; the characters' struggles to regain innocence by "doing the right thing"; the closet door that swings open for no apparent reason (never explained); the characters' revelations of the truths about themselves; their wishes granted through Sam's "negotiations" with the millionaire art collector from the "city" -- ALL portrayed within the conservative but ultimately flexible confines of their New England repression and stoicism (yes, the film is also a satiric comment on '50s morality) -- these details and more finally yield a rich tapestry of our common humanity, observed at a particular time and place, through specific people caught in an absurd yet utterly plausible circumstance.

Nothing happens? Only somebody who doesn't know how to look and listen -- REALLY observe, like an artist / creator -- could reach that conclusion about "The Trouble With Harry." Only a genius, like Hitchcock, would have the audacity to pull the rug out from under his audience's expectations at the height of his career by offering a profoundly subtle morality play in the guise of a slightly macabre Hallmark Card.

When the final "revelation" arrives, in the last line that takes us home to the marital bed where love culminates and all human life begins -- yours and mine -- and draws from us a happy smile of recognition, so Hitchcock's greatest secret is revealed, more blatantly in this than any of his films.

"Life and death -- and all of it in between -- are a joke! Don't you get it?" It's there in all his pictures. Nowhere more lovingly and less showily presented than in "The Trouble With Harry." Thank you, Hitch.