In this blog post, we explore how familiarity in everyday life transforms into unfamiliar terror through Hitchcock’s film ‘The Birds’.
Alfred Hitchcock is a director celebrated for his mise-en-scène. His works, grounded in psychological thrillers and an exceptional understanding of mise-en-scène and cinematic psychology, elevated him to the ranks of master filmmakers. Particularly within the horror genre, Hitchcockian characteristics and devices have become common knowledge and textbook examples. Hitchcock’s 1963 film ‘The Birds’ depicts the terror of Melanie being attacked by flocks of birds in the town where she seeks out Mitch, and it continues to exert a significant influence on the construction of disaster and horror films. While the film carries many implications both within and beyond the work itself, I wish to focus on two aspects I personally felt while watching it: the representation of ‘woman’ in ‘The Birds’ and humanity’s response to the ‘fear of the unknown’.
Hitchcock’s film ‘The Birds’ holds meaning beyond that of a simple horror movie. This work can be understood within the context of the social atmosphere of the time, particularly the anxieties of the Cold War era, and poses fundamental questions about human existence. It functions as a psychological metaphor reflecting the fears and anxieties of people at the time, transcending the superficial terror of a flock of birds attacking. When evaluating Hitchcock’s work from a modern perspective, it can be seen that he depicted the image of women through film under the socially accepted notion of a male-centered order. The image of ‘women’ in the film is primarily shaped around Melanie and Lydia, who share a commonality in their lack of love. Melanie’s mother left home when she was 11, while Lydia experienced loneliness after her husband’s death. Both turned to Michi as a compass to fill this void. Lydia, fearing she would be marginalized if Michi married Melanie, becomes wary of Melanie. Michi, unable to live a normal life due to Lydia, can be interpreted as the male protagonist with a maternal superego that blocks access to normal sexual relations, as defined by Žižek.
This maternal figure also influences the character and behavior of the male protagonist, who lacks a father. Under this influence, he inevitably forms an almost hallucinatory image of his mother. This portrays a mentally vulnerable woman while also illustrating how such a woman can render a man weak and exert a negative influence. Furthermore, viewing ‘womanhood’ from Melanie’s perspective: Melanie, who brought the lovebirds, was initially the narrative’s protagonist but is reduced to an object of the birds after being attacked by the seagull. Initially portrayed as free-spirited and independent, her inner vulnerability is revealed as the story unfolds over time. The film, which begins with Melanie gazing at birds trapped in cages, progressively shows Melanie herself becoming trapped. She is confined in a phone booth, her house, a room on the second floor, and finally, inside a car. Yet, it is Mitch, a man, who rescues her from the phone booth, and it is also Mitch who saves Melanie when she climbs upstairs out of curiosity about the events occurring there. Even in the final scene where she leaves Bodega Bay by car, she is portrayed solely as a passive presence.
From a feminist critical perspective, these elements highlight negative portrayals by depicting female characters as characteristically vulnerable, contrasting them with male characters who possess a steadfast will to overcome disaster. This expression homogenizes and universalizes the image of women, suggesting that his one-dimensional portrayal of women functions as a limitation, whether historical or personal.
Meanwhile, regarding responses to the ‘fear of the unknown,’ Lovecraft stated, “The strongest and most ancient emotion felt by man is fear, and the strongest and most ancient fear is the fear of the unknown.” Freud, however, viewed this not merely as fear arising from the fact of being unknown, but rather as occurring when familiar and normal experiences (i.e., the known) become strange, or when the strange becomes familiar. As the village, supermarket, school, and landscapes once familiar to us cease to be part of our daily lives, their logic and principles shift into the realm of the unknown, amplifying our fear. The situation depicted in ‘The Birds’—where the ‘birds,’ beings once close in everyday life, suddenly become aggressive—can be seen as one such film. Furthermore, the film effectively utilizes the ‘fear of the unknown’ by leaving the reason for the birds’ hostile transformation a mystery to both the characters and the audience until the very end.
This raises the question: “How should humans respond to and cope with the fear of the unknown?” According to Hans Rosling, humans possess an instinct to seek clear and simple reasons for an unpredictable world. This instinct, termed the ‘blaming instinct,’ exaggerates the importance of individuals or specific groups because finding a ‘bad guy’ or ‘villain’ relieves us from endless contemplation of a complex world. Rosling emphasizes the need to focus on causes and structures rather than blame, striving to view the world through truth. Yet, if a situation like the one in the movie actually occurred, it’s questionable whether such behavior would be possible. We know this attitude is rational, but can everyone always maintain rationality? Furthermore, the fear of the ‘unknown’ mentioned earlier stems from situations where understanding its causes, causal relationships, or correlations is nearly impossible. This is why films dealing with cosmic horror or the fear of the unknown, like Stephen King’s ‘The Mist’, invariably depict witch hunts and scenes of people tearing each other down and blaming one another. In ‘The Birds,’ too, the lovebirds brought to the village and Melanie are eventually suspected as the root of the problem. Lines like “They say it started after you came here,” “This is all your fault,” and “You’re a devil, a devil!” starkly reveal how people gripped by extreme terror blame and shift responsibility onto others.
Films rooted in horror or fear fundamentally allow audiences to enjoy the experience precisely because of the stark disconnect: viewers watch fictional suffering unfold beyond the screen while remaining comfortably seated. However, scenes like this in the film prompt deep contemplation of reactions to unknown terror. Simultaneously, they can trigger internal reflection on the ethical aspects of actions like blaming the ‘villain,’ the impact of such behavior, and how one might act in a similar situation. In other words, they make audiences reconsider how humans respond to unknown fear. Moreover, pondering whether creating and condemning villains is right, what meaning and effect it holds, and how one might act in such a situation is likely the pleasure the film grants us through imagination.
To summarize, Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’ depicts female characters as vulnerable while emphasizing the strong will of male protagonists striving to overcome disaster. This approach can function as a limitation by homogenizing female imagery. Furthermore, the film provokes contemplation on humanity’s fear of the ‘unknown terror,’ a process that delivers imaginative pleasure through cinema. Moreover, ‘The Birds’ reflects the social and psychological anxieties of its time, deeply exploring the complexity and unease within human nature. It stands as a masterpiece showcasing Hitchcock’s cinematic philosophy.
