One Huge Problem Sinks ‘My Name is Alfred Hitchcock’

Mark Cousins’ “My Name is Alfred Hitchcock” is a peculiar documentary/visual essay on films by The Master of Suspense.

Coming from an authoritative film analyst as Cousins, it sounds like a can’t miss idea, but there’s a catch: Instead of just dipping into Hitchcock’s films, Cousins has an actor provide an unceasing voiceover, pretending to be Hitchcock narrating a look at his work.

The problem isn’t the content but in the presentation.

The feature-length gimmick of an actor performing as Hitchcock is a feature-length irritation, not the novelty Cousins’ clearly intended. It reminds me of the time Rich Little provided vocals as David Niven for a Pink Panther cameo – you initially admire the hutzpah before groaning over what an obvious bit of mimicry it is.

In presenting a discussion on early films like “The Ring” (1927) and “The Wrong Man” (1956), Cousins encourages us to lean in and see the innovative camera moves that made Hitchcock’s style so distinct, even at the start of his career. Yet, hearing a faux-Hitchcock explain his cinematography choices to us is just … weird.

Since the narration begins with the fake Hitchcock announcing he’s been dead for 40 years, the faux Hitchcock babbles on in a cheeky fashion that is in no way a substitute for the real thing. As I listened to this impersonation playing over moments from some of the best movies I’ve ever seen, I often thought, Hitchcock would never have said this.

Alistair McGowan provides the voice in question – his impression is just that, a pantomime that never convinces. To be fair, it’s a tall order, as Hitchcock’s voice is one of the most recognizable in the world.

However, even Anthony Hopkins in “Hitchcock” (2012) did a better job of it. McGowan’s vocal performance is like listening to a Sean Connery impression. You can admire the attention to detail but never forget you’re hearing an act.

McGowan’s thick, phlegmy take is too mannered and self-conscious.

Cousins is obviously a highly accomplished and passionate film scholar, but this would be better with his or anyone else’s narration. Even when some interesting tidbit or more arcane bit of film history arises, I was irritated by having to listen to a second-rate impression of a director who deserved so much more.

If the idea is to provide “My Name is Alfred Hitchcock” as a learning tool for film students, then perhaps it will find an appreciative audience. Yet, everything from “Hitchcock/Truffaut” (2015) to any dozens of existing interviews with Mr. Hitchcock are better alternatives.

The amount of footage on hand is impressive, even staggering – a more conventional approach would have worked better.

Cousins has had trouble with narration in a film documentary before: I read his 2004 book, “The Story of Film,” which is wonderful, but I watched the 15-hour adaptation as a documentary, “The Story of Film: An Odyssey,” which is much less so, due to Cousins’ own narration.

In that case, he should have hired someone else to read his work. 

Some of the information provided is interesting, like the use of a ramp to make Claude Rains appear taller than Ingrid Bergman in “Notorious” (1946) and the mention of the original ending of “Psycho” (1960).

Breaking the documentary into chapters was wise but interspersing contemporary and mediocre footage that isn’t worthy of Hitchcock is yet another misguided idea. Opening on the reveal of a massive Hitchcock statue, for example, only allows for more cornball observations and gets things off to an odd start.

Hitchcock made some of the most magnificent films in the history of cinema. It’s always a pleasure to watch his work, whether in clips or, far preferable, the entire film.

Here, I was happy to watch a scene from “Vertigo” (1958) or “The Lodger” (1927) but found the Hitchcock impression the equivalent of sitting in a theater next to a nitwit who won’t shut up.

Two Stars

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