A New Day For The Man Who Knew Too Much --- Part One

The breakthrough Hitchcock and first of his to find popularity in the US. It was his initial go with Gaumont, a company with offices and distribution here, thus capacity for pushing AH to Yanks, sophisticates of which took him to bosoms (Hitch an art-house pet from early on). Producers with heft were impressed. Criterion's restoration docu speaks of a nitrate print owned by David Selznick. Did he '34-score that for his archive in anticipation of bringing AH over a few years hence? DOS clearly recognized Too Much as a pole vault over what we'd so far seen for suspense. Had any American thriller up to 1934 come close as this? The handicap, of course, was its Brit-ness: accents thick as two-inch steak and what seemed to us mumbled dialogue. To that last, there is still complaint. Someone on a recent forum lamented of having to turn volume way up and resorting to subtitles so as to translate clipped speech.

The "Imposing" (says the original caption) Gaumont -British Studio

Gaumont would get the message and modify region-based habits/talk in order to crack our markets, same as Hammer would later with its US-popular horrors. Did Hitchcock aim The Man Who Knew Too Much toward colony targets? It wouldn't seem so based on final product, although the subject had to have come up in discussions among Gaumont brass bidding for US exposure. A Swiss setting for opener action suggests aim beyond Brit borders, and Peter Lorre casting from the Continent would bring The Man Who Knew Too Much to attention of the many, including Americans, who'd seen and been shocked by 1931's M. Lorre's was, in fact, the key image in US advertising for The Man Who Knew Too Much, his character billed as "Public Enemy No. 1 Of The World." Original trailers were as emphatic in tagging Lorre the absolute personification of evil under Hitchcock's direction, quite ignoring humor and even sympathy imbued by the actor and AH.

The Man Who Knew Too Much is suddenly a whole different experience thanks to Criterion's upgrade. They found a fine grain off the camera negative (courtesy BFI) after preliminary go at Selznick's print, which was badly worn. What was for years a tough title to properly see now glistens. Insight to Too Much troubled past is evident in William K. Everson's program notes for an 11/19/71 New School showing. He had to settle, and said so plainly, for a "sub-standard" print of a film "not in circulation." My 70's memory is of The Man Who Knew Too Much tendered by rascally Tom Dunnahoo of Thunderbird Films. He called it "rarely-seen" and sold 16mm/Super 8 prints of who knows? quality (I didn't have one). By way of being lucky as we are with our Blu-Rays, here was what Tom charged for TMWKTM as of July, 1976: $174.50 for 16mm and $115.50 for Super 8 sound. Is it a wonder so few collected film in those days?

And now, thanks to crisp delivery, many are calling The Man Who Knew Too Much the Master's best of his British period. I'm inclining toward that, thanks much to Criterion's rescue. Has anyone noted how an old movie's stock rises, sometimes dramatically, as result of disc clean-up and release? Lots of canons get readjusted when a lamb long sheared comes back with wool restored. Earlier prints and DVD's I had of The Man Who Knew Too Much never inspired multiple watch within a week, but here comes Criterion with Blu-Ray brilliance that I've sampled twice in 48 hours. Too Much was for too long not enough --- now it's me that can't get too much of it. Consider what High-Definition did for The 39 Steps and The Lady Vanishes (Steps till now notoriously difficult to see in good quality) and the fact much of Hitchcock's British work is streaming in HD. It's enough to inspire reassessment of the lot and perhaps renewal of one-time snooty critic posture that AH in the UK was way superior to mere entertainments he'd do once arrived on our shores.

So which was better, this 1934 original or Hitchcock's 1956 remake? The director said something interesting to William K. Everson in Criterion's 1972 interview extra: He couldn't, as in dared not, confine major name James Stewart to the villain's lair for the whole of a third act; a star so big must stay proactive throughout, but what did that do to artful structure from the original? Much as I like aspects of 1956's remake, it essentially ends, at least for me, at Albert Hall. What comes after seems badly anti-climactic and not a little ludicrous (Doris Day sings and the kidnapped kid upstairs joins in?). We lose '34's rooftop finish and realize how badly it was needed, but Hitchcock had shot his bolt a year before with To Catch A Thief, which more or less borrowed the climactic device from The Man Who Knew Too Much. I'm guessing Hitchcock regretted that in spades once he decided to go forward with a remake.

The 1956 version is also long, 120 minutes as opposed to the earlier 75. Location shooting is fine; needed, of course, to maximize value of VistaVision, but faking Switzerland and a spacious Albert Hall shows off better the ingenuity of Hitchcock where 1934 resources had a limit and genius was more fully applied. There are sidebars to the remake that make us ask, was this trip necessary? Confusion over Albert Hall, is it man or place?, eats up footage. Marital flux for Day and Stewart is a downer in wake of cool efficiency and teamwork Leslie Banks and Edna Best engage once danger becomes known to them. Banks/Best make no foolish or delaying moves, theirs a straight-line toward getting back nabbed offspring and putting villainy to rout. There's humor too to leaven intensity, being there throughout and shared even by kidnappers, these a glum lot in 1956 badly in need of Lorre (or equivalent) leadership. Do you suppose Hitchcock considered, even if briefly, bringing back Peter Lorre to reprise his famed role?

Part Two of The Man Who Knew Too Much is HERE.