Hitchcock and Selznick.

The Rich and Strange Collaboration of Alfred Hitchcock and David 0. Selznick in Hollywood, by Leonard J. Leff. University of California Press/383 pp./$24.95 (sb). The David 0. Selznick-Alfred Hitchcock alliance is a tale of mythological proportion. It is a story of Hollywood giants, of a great movie mogul locked in a clash of titanic egos with a legendary enigmatic filmmaker. Their 10-year association produced a mere four films--but three of them, Rebecca (1940), Spellbound (1945) and Notorious (1946), are widely considered to be Hitchcock's first masterpieces. This paperback edition of Leff's seminal historical analysis provides remarkably intimate access to their relationship, as fascinating in its own right as the films that it brought about.

The Selznick-Hitchcock alliance was a collaborative association in the true sense of the word, at least initially. Leff illuminates how Hitchcock, despite his deft hand at promoting himself as the mastermind behind his box office and critical success, demonstrated an even greater talent for surrounding himself with superb screenwriters, cameramen and actors. More than merely stimulating Hitchcock, these artists completed him, and Selznick was no exception.

As Leff convincingly argues, Selznick was responsible for bringing Hitchcock from the scrappy British film industry to the big leagues, throwing his unerring taste, big budgets and slick promotional skills into the equation. A remarkable synergy resulted from their divergent aesthetic aims--Selznick's adherence to the linear tradition of the nineteenth-century novel married with Hitchcock's affinity for the inexplicable and the visual dream-world; Selznick's influence of smooth Hollywood glamour photography softened Hitchcock's choppy "edit in the camera" style and reliance on cinematic tricks; and Selznick pushed Hitchcock toward a deeper exploration of the interpersonal and away from his tendency to focus on "things" instead of content ("It's only a moo-vie," Hitchcock is said to be fond of remarking dismissively).

But Hitchcock's deeply entrenched contempt for authority (it is no coincidence that the stocky murderer with rimless glasses in Rear Window [1954] resembles Selznick), coupled with his ongoing efforts to move toward financial and aesthetic independence as a filmmaker proved to be the perfect catalyst for Selznick's strange brand of Benzedrine- and barbiturate-fueled paranoia. Mutual distrust and a tenuous balance of power remained an undercurrent in their dealings with one another, in both the aesthetic sense as well as in interminable contract negotiations. Although their alliance was ultimately destined for collapse as Selznick's mental health disintegrated and Hitchcock gained enough clout to make his break toward independence, Rebecca, Spellbound and Notorious were undeniably collaborative efforts that proved to be high watermarks in the careers of both men.

Leff notes that these Selznick-Hitchcock collaborations achieved an excellence that Hitchcock would struggle to repeat in the years following the dissolution of their partnership, only to finally arrive as a mature filmmaker with Rear Window some six years later. In the interim Hitchcock would lose his hard fought independence with the failure of his own production company, in part due to the absence of balance and structure that Selznick once provided. Although history may ultimately bare out that Selznick needed Hitchcock more than the reverse, Leff provides us with an adept glimpse into the complexities of a remarkable collaboration, to which legion of cinephiles are indebted.