Stage Fright (Alfred Hitchcock, 1950)

Stage Fright (1950)
BOSLEY CROWTHER New York Times 24 February 1950

The world of the London theatre is the fascinating milieu in which Alfred Hitchcock has chosen to pull off the conjurer's tricks of his latest thriller, "Stage Fright," which came to the Music Hall yesterday. And in this intriguing environment, he and his writers have contrived to give a fine cast of actors some slick and entertaining things to do.

But we feel we must quietly advise you that these things, while amusing separately, build up to very little sustained excitement or suspense. They are simply a wild accumulation of clever or colorful episodes, tending for the most part toward the comic, without any real anxiety. And, for this reason, that which one most usually expects in a Hitchcock film—namely, accumulated tension—should not be expected here.

Rather we get a rambling story—it runs for almost two hours—about the ways in which a student actress tries to shield her sweetheart from a murder charge. We get a long and involved presentation of what might technically be termed a counter-chase, with the young lady trying to get evidence and muddy the scent at the same time. And we also get a casual look-see at a developing romance, when the young lady switches her affections to the nice young detective on the case.

In the course of these scattered proceedings, we watch Marlene Dietrich give a show of silken and slumberous vampiratics in the role of a treacherous musical star. We watch her slyly and sleekly deceive the accused man, Richard Todd, and we witness the latter's panting efforts, in wide-eyed frenzy, to avoid being caught.

We are also allowed to witness Jane Wyman's assorted stratagems to save Mr. Todd from detection—and eventually to put the finger on him. We watch her use her histrionics to inject herself as Miss Dietrich's maid, with several close encounters at being caught herself as a result. We see her beguile Michael Wilding, who plays the detective breezily, and we finally have the privilege of watching her make some cozy love.

But most particularly, in the course of this picture, we are brought into contact with Alistair Sim, the long-faced and sad-eyed English comic, who plays Miss Wyman's dad. And the privilege of watching him muster his wits and resources to assist his daughter in her endeavors is one of the genuine pleasures of the film. He and Dame Sybil Thorndike, who plays his acerbic wife, and a toothy lady named Joyce Grenfell, who does a hilarious bit as an attendant of a shooting-gallery at a theatrical fair, are the standouts in the show—and that should give you some idea of how the emphasis has been placed.

Indeed, one is strongly suspicious, after watching this helter-skelter film, that Mr. Hitchcock was much less interested in his over-all story than in individual scenes. One has the uncomfortable feeling that he so much enjoyed the episodes that he lost—or didn't even bother about—strong and consistent development. No doubt his audiences will follow in their enjoyment of the episodes, but whether they will be quite as casual about the lack of form is something else again. "Stage Fright" is dazzlingly stagy but it is far from frightening.

STAGE FRIGHT, screen play by Whitfield Cook, from the Alma Reville adaptation of a novel by Selwyn Jepson; directed by Alfred Hitchcock; produced in England for Warner Brothers.

Eve Gill . . . . . Jane Wyman
Charlotte Inwood . . . . . Marlene Dietrich
Commodore Gill . . . . . Alistair Sim
Smith . . . . . Michael Wilding
Jonathan Cooper . . . . . Richard Todd
Nellie . . . . . Kay Walsh
Mrs. Gill . . . . . Dame Sybil Thorndike
Bibulous Gent . . . . . Miles Malleson
Freddie . . . . . Hector MacGregor
Shooting Gallery Attendant . . . . . Joyce Grenfell
Inspector Byard . . . . . Andre Morell
Chubby . . . . . Patricia Hitchcock