ALFRED HITCHCOCK: A Master of Duality For many, the name Alfred Hitchcock conjures hazy and disconnected memories of Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman in Rio, Tippi Hedren being chased by killer birds, or Jimmy Stewart in a wheelchair; but for others -- those that are somewhat more experienced with the work of Hitchcock -- the utterance of his moniker means much more. Indeed, many consider Hitchcock to be not only one of the most prolific and entertaining filmmakers, but also one of the most profound. A recurring -- and certainly intriguing -- motif that holds together his body of work is his incessant interest and portrayal of duality: the conflicting, yet in some ways similar, nature of life. That is to say, Hitchcock (and no other, on as prestigious a level) was able to brilliantly compare, reduce, and then reevaluate polar opposites that every human encounters. Love or hate, man or woman, privacy or voyeurism, and dishonesty or fidelity were just some of the many themes he unraveled in the stories and aesthetics of his films. Two such films -- with particular interest as each illustrates by movement, mise-en-scen, and narrative strategy, Hitchcock's penchant for duality -- are Vertigo, in which he juxtaposes the archetypal struggle between life and death, and Psycho, where he dabbles in the much more complex evaluation of openness and mystery.

Vertigo, one of Hitchcock's best-loved films, investigates the connection between life and death. Indeed, the premise of this

In Vertigo, this possibility manifests itself in the form of reincarnation -- of Carlotta possessing Madeleine. For Hitchcock to successfully compare these extremes, he must first convince the audience that reincarnation is a viable explanation, and that life and death can exist simultaneously. He succeeds in this endeavor most completely in one single moment during Scottie's dream sequence.
In Scottie's dream, he envisions Carlotta as living -- standing there between him and Gavin. This single frame is essential evidence of Hitchcock's comparison of this duality because it reveals living persons in the same space and time as those who are dead. In the same dream, Scottie sees the animated Carlotta standing still, and framed precisely like the previous revealed portrait of her. The movement of this character (or the lack thereof) begins to suggest that the similarities between life and death may not be so strong. Indeed, the identical pose held by the character in life, and in the painted record of it, begins to deconstruct this duality.

The relationship between life and death is further analyzed by the mise-en-scen (the "setting") as the lighting suddenly begins to change. In flashes of light creating a strobe-like effect, Hitchcock manipulates the color of the image from clear to almost antique, calling attention to a seeming overlap in present and past. Moreover, the effect, coupled with rapid edits between only slightly varying frames of the images, brings to mind the notion of reanimation.

As the film progresses, however, Hitchcock completes his comparison within the narrative. Because the possibility of reincarnation is later shattered by the fact that all was nothing more than the residue of an elaborate murder scheme, the duality of life and death becomes fully defined. Thus, Hitchcock successfully uses the tools of movement, setting, and editing to suggest similarities the two, and his story to deny them.

The film Psycho is perhaps most…