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My Day In The HitchCult By CineSource Lead Intern with D. Blair
A meeting of the Hitch Cult with rotating chair, Dave [last name redacted] presiding, assisted by Kim [last name redacted] as the female muse. photo: CS Lead Intern
Editor's Note
A few months ago, when CineSource learned there was an extreme fan club—they call themselves a cult—of Hitchcock enthusiasts in San Francisco, it dawned on us that the London-Hollywood-based filmmaker had sufficiently influenced, infiltrated— infected even—San Francisco to rate as local.
With the only other cine-cults around Lucas-related, but George being hard to access—not to mention not a Surrealist—and having received some plaudits for our recent articles on Hitchcock and his two Bay Area films, "Vertigo" (1958) and "The Birds" (1963), with Tippi Hedren (see interview), we decided it was time to devote an issue of CineSource to a single director: Sir Alfred Hitchcock.
Even if he wasn't the master of symbology and idioms—horror, thriller, psychodrama, expressionism, surrealism, futurism, comedy, the comedic thriller— Hitchcock should be of interest to any filmmaker due to his mastery of technique—indeed, François Truffaut, when confronted with a cinema problem, would almost always turn to Hitchcock.
He should be of more interest to us since we live in the cradle of noir and psychedelia and are surrounded by a diversity of cineastes, styles and genres. But, with most of the articles of the Hitchcock issue devoted to scholarship, we thought it essential to tap into the visceral filmic experience of Hitchcock. Where better than among the fanatics cultists?
The HitchCulters maintain an unlicensed speak-easy, buried in the back of a rabbit-warren-like live-work space, where they show Hitchcock films, serve absinthe and do what Lead Intern called "unspeakable things," although whether that included x-rated activities she didn't disclose. In any event, they allowed her in, permitted her to take some shots, and interview them, as well as accompany them on their supreme cinephiliac ritual, what they call a "Jaunt," making the rounds of San Francisco's Hitchcock locations.
Hiding behind a tree, I was able to photograph the guy they call Dave, evidently attired as the Scottie character from 'Vertigo', staking out the building where the Madeleine character lived. photo: D. Blair
Just as she was headed out for the Jaunt, however, our ever-responsible lead intern snuck me a text and I car-chased it over. Posing as another Hitchcock-freak, one who had taken the identity of Jeffries, "Rear Window"'s wheelchair-bound photographer (now recuperated), I was able to capture the Hitchculters from a distance.
Only when the man known as Dave was helping the woman, Kim, back from the water at Fort Point—where she declined to go in or even approach the edge, yelling something about how she really has vertigo and what happened to the other Kim—did they recognize me and realize I had been tailing them. Fortunately, she was too furious and he too befuddled to do much as I beat a hasty retreat out the back of Fort Point to the tiny gay nude beach in the rocks, a fitting denouement for a Hitchcockian adventure, considering how old Al might have enjoyed the voyeuring.
HitchCult Interview
CineSource Lead Intern: Is this a sex-cult?
Kim (last name redacted): Aren't they all?
Why did you join?
Kim: For the sex. (laughs}
Dave (last name redacted): Kimmy, please! She's pulling a 'Melanie' on you [a reference to the prank-prone Melanie Daniels, played by Tippi Hedren (see interview), in 'The Birds']
We didn't have any cult-creating intentions, we just thought it was a cool name.
Suddenly another player appeared, so-called Kim, and after quickly changing lens—I was dressed as Jeffries from 'Rear Window', hence, had a massive 300 mm lens in my leather camera case—I bagged her, with Dave hiding in the background. photo: D. Blair
Kim: I came up with it.
Dave: On the other hand, religion is about what you don't know and there's a heap of that with Hitchcock. You can't imagine the challenge getting to the bottom of these films... and the man.
The biggest mountain I ever climbed was 'Vertigo'! That's why we go out on the Jaunts. Come to think of it, I guess it is like a religion to us.
Kim: I dare ya to join us on a Jaunt.
What's a Jaunt?
Kim: Only one way to find out!
Hubert (last name redacted): Don't scare her Kim. Hitchcock is all about voluntary submission to fear, you know, a sort of an in-yer-head Sado-Masochism.
But what's a Jaunt?
Hubert: Where we go on the 'Vertigo' or 'The Birds' rounds and re-enact—
Kim: It's not a reenactment—shut up, Hube!—we would never do that! We visit scenes from our preceptor's films and put ourselves in the situations of the original thespians, more as a meditation to see how they saw the world, how the Master saw the world.
Ahhh...
After calling Kim over, they seemed to be discussing the next step in what they call a 'Jaunt,' some sort of cinephiliac ritual—they don't like the term reenactments, evidently. photo: D. Blair
Dave: There's always another layer to penetrate.
But don't you think that these strange activities, based on a director, however well-regarded, are a tad, how can I put it diplomatically—pretentious?
Dave: No! Because everything in the world eventually leads back to The Master. Once one becomes aware of his oeuvre, it's impossible to watch any movie or TV show, without noticing his influence. It is so protean. It is so monumental, so definitive, so like—
Kim: God.
Hubert: Kimmy! She's just kidding, we really aren't into that.
Kim: Look at it this way, newby: Any kiss that has ever thrilled you has a Hitchcockian precedent. Or drink, or phone call, or staircase or a even common lock-key... A lock-key... how... uh... Surrealist!
Hubert: She's a genius.
Kim: Yes, Hube, but don't get all doe-ey-eyed—it all reminds the aficionado of a similar situation within HC's canon.
Like a Bible?
Dave: More like Tarot Cards. (He offers the interviewer some mini-donuts.) Snack?
No thanks.
Dave: Not hungry?
On Lombard Street, where Scottie supposedly lived, I was getting bolder as Jeffries. After approaching the building, ostensibly to shoot the mailbox, I spun and captured the HitchCulters, here having an argument, cinephiliac or personal, I was not able to determine. photo: D. Blair
I don't usually eat when I am working.
Dave: I don't eat for nourishment. Like our departed mentor, I do so out of anger!
Kim: What are you so angry about now, my dahling?
Dave: I don't know... everything? The fact that yuppie scum are invading our noir paradise?
About two weeks ago, I was dreaming of being in a southwest-facing living room, in which The Director—
Hube: We call him 'The Director.'
Kim: Shut up, Hube.
Hube: What? I am just helping her get our nomenclature.
Dave: The Director was throwing these thin but very, very sharp knives across the coffee table at a few people sitting near me on the floor. Afterwards, I felt concerned I might be blamed for the murders.
Kim: You don't have to work too hard to realize what that symbolizes.
Dave: What?
Kim: Fucking.
Herbert: KIMMY!
Dave: Its OK, Herb, she's just referencing Freud again, which is how The Director would have wanted it. But of course, as the good doctor said, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
This shot was my coup de grace: After implanting myself in a bush, the besotted pair paraded by, literally, Scottie/Dave mincing with a woman's hand bag, actually not part of the 'Vertigo' dramaturge, but as I overheard Kim insisting, essential to representing Hitchcock's proclivities. photo: D. Blair
Kim: Or maybe it symbolizes what happened to the other Kim.
Dave: What other Kim? You are our only Kim.
Kim: Oh, really? Surrrrrre.
Dave: Oh, you mean Cammy? She was not a Kim and anyway she moved to Baltimore.
Kim: Baltimore? Poe?
Dave: Perhaps. Anyway, I was thinking, perhaps my dream about him killing in a South-West room indicates my guilt over enjoying life while The Director no longer partakes of such. Or perhaps he is a father-figure?
Hubert: The latter sounds about right.
Kim: Poe? So you did kill—
Hube: Hush, Kimmy!
How does your association deal all the sexual innuendo?
Bob MacGuffin (who was happy to let us use his last name for some reason): Ha ha ha, that's a good one. I cannot speak for anyone else, but part of the thrill of viewing a Hitchcock is the visceral, almost sexual, insinuation, innuendo—as Groucho said—
Kim: Shut up, Bob!
At Fort Point, Dave's badgering drove Kim somewhat hysterical, yelling that she actually had vertigo, until he finally threatened to dive in himself—although he didn't. photo: D. Blair
Do you, or any of the other culters, take the thrill-seeking beyond the vicarious titillation enjoyed by viewing films in which Hitchcock makes criminals seem sexy?
Kim: Of course, who do you think we are?
That's the whole art of Hitchcock appreciation. You take the Odysseyian journey while seated in your theater seat or now at home on the bed. Most of his films make the connection between crime and the sexual-romantic trope—what third-wave feminists call the 'Bad Boy Paradigm'.
Are you concerned the films will loose their impact when viewed on an iPhone?
Dave: No. Because film, theaters, actors, effects, etcetera, were just vehicles for him to transfer his expressive material—it doesn't matter on which format.
Bob: Your mind is doing it all on the 'interior screen,' no matter what film. Of course, it is hard to notice since most films these days suck.
Yes, that is true but there are at least a few other quality directors. Wouldn't it be much more rewarding to focus your so-called cult on all of filmdom?
Kim: We do not believe so. We've found, as have many others, that there is a stupendous amount of fascinating confusion circling this colossus.
We're attempting to discover what he was actually working out in the deep emotions and belief systems he presents via such varied projects as the horrifying "Frenzy" [1972], the the heart-breaking "Sabotage" [1936], the ingenious "I Confess" [1952] or "North By Northwest" [1959], the perfectly, yet cheaply-realized "Psycho' [1960], the incredibly experimental 'Rope' [1948], the very lurid 'Marnie' [1964] or "Shadow Of A Doubt" [1943], along with his most doppelgangerish work 'Vertigo' (1958] and 'Strangers On A Train" (1951] not to mention the earliest known meditation on film -maker and -goer as Peeping Tom: "Rear Window" [1954].
That's quite a list, can't you at least limit yourself to a top five?
Hubert: No, that is impossible!
The couple recover their composure at Fort Point via the cult's practice of controlled horror shrieking (scream therapy) until they started bickering about where they were going to eat: Dave wanted Mel's, as more 'Vertigo'-esque, while Kim insisted on Thai. photo: D. Blair
Kim: The amount of product is huge. It would be a fucking miracle if civilization were to survive long 'nuff to suss everything Hitchcockian. As a founding member of HitchCult, it's comforting to realize that that there'll always be plenty of Hitchcockery to ponder and parse—'til we die.
So what would you say is the essence of Hitchcock, as you see it?
Hubert: Well, I guess it would be that world is a complicate and str—
Kim: Don't fucking tell'er Herb!
Dave: There are no pat answers. Perhaps peruse our library, it's is over there. [Editor's Note: The supplier of that library, ironically, did want his name to be known: Joseph Jordan, and evidently the HitchCulters greatly appreciate his contribution.]
Kim: Don't let 'er prowl through the Jordan Library!
Why not?
Kim: You have to come on a Jaunt. You have to put your flesh on the line, feel what it is actually like, or at least come to one of our films shows, afterwards we'll have a discussion over dinner.
When is the next one?
Dave: When is it Hube?
Hube: We don't have one scheduled.
Dave: We got shut down by the fire marshal last time.
What were you showing?
Dave: 'Young and Innocent'.
The racist one?
Here the HitchCult practices one its meditations, a combination of horror film screaming and scream therapy, culminating with the hands held over the ears for quite time. photo: D. Blair
Dave: Denouncers claim such, but let me tell you Alfred Hitchcock was neither a racist, a homophobe, nor sexist...
Kim: Don't try to change the subject. C'mon a Jaunt.
When?
Kim: When can we go, Hube, am I free tomorrow?
Dave: How 'bout right now?
Hube: I have to visit my great aunt in South City.