Alfred Hitchcock, Master of Comic Relief

An article by Mike Durrett

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One cold afternoon during the winter of my 10th year, I interrupted my stroll home from school and took a life-changing detour into darkness.

I plopped down a shiny quarter at the box office of the neighborhood movie theatre. I'd catch the 3:30 show and be home in my dinner chair by six -- and no one would ever know. My life as a sly little boy was full of such pleasures and I always felt safe and comfy -- until this fateful day.

By the fifth grade, I had seen many scary pictures, usually involving behemoth monsters like "King Kong," "Reptilicus," and "Gorgo." I'd even been fried by the original "The Fly" and "It! The Terror from Beyond Space." I was aware today's movie would be unsettling; although, I was not prepared for the grip of the story unfolding before my voracious eyes.

Something odd was happening on the screen; but I wasn't sure exactly what. There was not much dialogue. A mean man had a fight with his invalid wife. Later that evening, he sat quietly in the dark. I knew it was him because I saw the small red dot that was the ember at the end of his cigarette. Nothing else was visible in his apartment, simply blackness and the dot. His wife must've fallen asleep. Some hours passed and the wee hours turned rainy. The man went for a walk with some luggage and then he returned, all before dawn. His noisy wife never said "good-bye" or "hello" to him either. I got a creepy feeling as the evidence slowly registered and my co-witness, Jimmy Stewart, grasped the puzzle, too. The mean man had killed his wife.

And ... he ... chopped ... her ... up ... into little pieces ... and disposed of her body ... inside ... the ... luggage.

I had never heard of anything so devious. It was at that moment, I knew the childish world I lived in was not reality. I learned human beings could be monsters, too.

I was horrified. The story was gruesome; but -- and here's my point -- I laughed. It was a tiny, nervous laugh. I was smiling, strangely entertained and most eager to discover how the events would progress. It was meant for me to be amused.

Over the years, through repeated viewings of this film, I've noticed there's a pattern of prolonged, almost gleeful, tension followed by release, often in the form of laughter. The composition of these moments are akin to jokes, relying on set-up, execution, and "punch lines." The expertise involved in making these "gags" work belonged to an unlikely comic, Alfred Hitchcock, drolly performing behind "Rear Window,", one of the superb films which earned him the title "The Master of Suspense."

Hitchcock made scores of motion pictures, spanning the silent era through 1976's "Family Plot." He relished manipulating audiences with sinister twists and turns in the action. Whether a specific scene contained comedic touches or not, on his side of the camera, Hitchcock was most certainly chuckling.

The director best-remembered for shocks and the macabre, peppered many of his productions with humor, not always in the suspenseful moments, but, at least, along the way.

He also strengthened his Hollywood clout and became a television star as a surreal Charles Addamsish monologist, hosting the anthology series "Alfred Hitchcock Presents" from 1955-'65. In his introductions (penned by playwright James Allardice), Hitchcock appeared in atypical silly attire before stylized settings, wherein he delighted viewers, telling tall tales of mystery and insulting his sponsors. Although he directed less than two dozen of the 359 episodes, the format seldom varied: a murder capped with an ironic kick ending, usually a grinner.

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