Remembering Hitchcock

The Master of Suspense's silent films maintain their dynamism.

Reels containing the first 30 minutes of the first film Hitchcock worked on- The White Shadow- have been discovered at the New Zealand Film Archive. They had been in the hands of Jack Murtagh, a keen collector who used to work as a projectionist. After he died, his private collection of nitrate film prints were sent to the national archives by his grandson, Tony Osborne.

The White Shadow 1923 is a silent film, in which American actor Betty Compson stars as a pair of twins. Copies of the melodramatic film are being made and will be sold in America.

Before the discovery was made, the BFI launched the "Rescue the Hitchcock 9" campaign, which aimed to restore what were Hitchcock's only nine surviving silent films. These date from 1925 to 1929 and include Downhill and The Manxman. Downhill is about a star student, Roddy, who is wrongly accused of getting a young woman pregnant. His reputation in tatters, Roddy takes on a lonely existence, becoming a paid companion to lonely rich women. Shot in a small Cornish fishing community, The Manxman tells the story of two childhood friends who fall in love with the same woman. This was Hitchcock's last silent film.

The BFI has announced that Hitchcock's silent films will be accompanied by newly commissioned orchestral scores as part of the London 2012 Festival - the finale of the Cultural Olympiad. One-off live performances across London will include esteemed British musicians Nitin Sawhney, Tansy Davies and Daniel Cohen.

Another effort helping to preserve Hitchcock's memory is The Alfred Hitchcock London Locations Walk, led by Sandra Shevey. The walking tour lasts 3 hours and includes segments of an interview with Hitchcock from 1972. Shevey uses period photos and storyboards to compare the current locations with Hitchcock's re-interpretations, used in for example, Frenzy and The Man Who Knew Too Much.

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"The Anatolian Fertility Goddess": a poem by Fiona Pitt-Kethley

Across the Golden Horn in Karakoy. . . 

Across the Golden Horn in Karakoy,
a maze of ancient, crooked, cobbled streets
contains the brothels of old Istanbul.
A vendor at the bottom of the hill
sells macho-hot green chilli sandwiches.
A cudgel-wielding policeman guards the gate.
 
One year, dressed as a man, I went inside
(women and drunks are not allowed in there).
I mingled with the mass of customers,
in shirt, grey trousers, heavy walking boots.
A thick tweed jacket flattened out my breasts.
A khaki forage cap concealed my hair.
 
The night was young, the queues at doors were short.
Far down the street a crowd of men stood round
and watched a woman dancing in a house.
Her sixty, sixty, sixty figure poured inside
a flesh-tone, skin-tight, Lycra leotard,
quivered like milk-jelly on a shaken plate.
 
I’ve seen her type before in small museums –
primeval blobs of roughly sculpted stone –
the earliest form of goddess known to man.


Fiona Pitt-Kethley is a British poet, novelist and journalist living in Spain. Her Selected Poems was published in 2008 by Salt.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad