Note: The following review dates from April 2003 & this production's original run at the Royal Court. Terry Johnson is clearly a bit of a film buff. Having, in recent years, written and directed Cleo, Camping, Emmanuelle and Dick about the Carry Ons then adapted and directed The Graduate, his latest offering by its very title identifies itself as another stage/screen amalgamation.
Hitchcock Blonde spools out two (in fact two-and-a-half) story lines which gradually and intriguingly converge. In the present day, Hitchcock-obsessed lecturer Alex, with blonde undergraduate Nicola in tow, escapes to a Greek villa to pore over contents from the Gainsborough Studios library. Amongst these dusty remains, they discover some early Hitchcock footage from 1919 and set about piecing together what they suspect to be the rushes of a film called The Uninvited Guest. But just who does that title refer to?
In the second thread, it's 1959 and Alfred Hitchcock himself is holding auditions for Janet Leigh's Psycho shower-scene body double. This blonde is desperate to get away from her abusive husband and live the Hollywood dream. Her story turns into the stuff of Hitchcock's movies.
William Dudley's high-tech design incorporates a proscenium arch chalked up like a zoom lens, video expanses of the Mediterranean and recurring film footage of the lost frames (plus a clever little shower surprise of his own). The stage moves effortlessly from 1959-99 and back again, thanks to a hydraulic central platform and stagehands dressed in macs and berets like old-style cameramen.
The performances are strong all round. David Haig as the despicable Alex is unnervingly likeable, Fiona Glascott's Nicola both brash and fragile. William Hootkins - who gives a superbly lippy Hitchcock impression, all enigma, enunciation and dover sole - meets his match in Rosamund Pike's confused mystery blonde.
Despite some extremely funny moments, Hitchcock Blonde is ultimately a very dark play. Johnson enforces, through the characters of Hitchcock and Alex, the idea that men (at least these men) are only interested in unattainable women. "I've always preferred anticipation to the actual event," says the academic, while Hitchcock appears disappointed to find his new actress only blonde "to a point".
In both cases, when presented with real women - who must prove, all too dangerously, that they're made of flesh and blood - the men lose interest. Is the Uninvited Guest reality, shattering the veneer of beauty and idealism so aptly depicted by the silver screen? It's interesting, too, that, in a piece dissecting the male gaze, a scene with female nudity (pre-guessed thanks to a camera ban) is eagerly awaited.
Although a few scenes might have been best left on the cutting room floor, any flabbiness doesn't detract from Johnson's achievement: a play that engages, entertains and stimulates. It's a thing nearly as rare as a natural blonde.
- Hannah Kennedy
