Sir Alfred Hitchcock is, to this day, regarded as one of the greatest filmmakers of all time. Not only is his legacy due to his masterfully crafted stories in the thriller genre, but to his incorporation of subjects that were once taboo. It is Hitchcock’s representation of non-heteronormative sexuality (be it repressed or not),that has captured the attention of contemporary scholars and critics in Queer Theory have taken a particular interest in Hitchcock. So this begs the question: is a queer reading possible of Hitchcock’s films? Is the presence of characters coded as non-heteronormative necessary for a queer reading? How was non-heteronormativity coded in classical Hollywood films? Which films support the most convincing queer readings? Moreover, what can an exploration of Hitchcock through a queer lense tell us about non-heteronomativity?

A queer reading of a particular text can be defined by the sexuality of the author (filmmaker) themself, or that of the film’s writer and actors. Furthermore a queer reading can also be held if a text has character who identify as queer, or if the text’s themes relate to issue regarding the queer community. In regards to this latter scenario, the question that always follows is whether or not the filmmakers intentionally incorporated these attributes. I will focus on the three that I think are particularly interesting in terms of all of these questions: Rebecca (1940), Rope (1948), and lastly Psycho (1960). What these films also have in common are their coding of queer characters. Historically speaking, depictions of homosexuality; or that of any sexual activity considered to be non-heteronormative, was very much disparaged during the era in which these films were made.

The reason for this, is due to what was called the Hays Code; which was set up as a response to the growing number of concerns held by the religious right, and even from the pulpit of the Catholic church. The production code set out to censor any content that was deemed ‘indecent’. In the eyes of the code, any form of overt sexuality that was not considered heteronormative, was perverted and needed to be shielded from the eyes of America. As such, any and all depictions of queer existence that did make it on to the screen, only did so through carefully crafted coding. However, often times this coding came in a less than flattering light; as queer coded characters were placed in villainous roles. Hitchcock himself was guilty of utilizing this trope, however some examples have perhaps aged better than others. After all, the notion of queer people committing acts that could be deemed villainous, is not inherently homophobic.

However, what is problematic is the idea of a person being defined as mentally ill, or simply antagonistic because of their sexuality. Hitchcock's record with this trope varies, but it dates back to the late auteur’s very first American film, Rebecca. Based on the 1938 novel of the same name; this psychological thriller revolves around a nameless young woman (Joan Fontain), who marries a wealthy older man named Maxim De Winter (Laurence Olivier). Maxim, as it turns out harbors secrets regarding the death of his first wife, who is the unseen titular character. Upon moving into his family’s estate known as Manderley; the second Mrs. De Winter finds herself not only living in the shadow of Rebecca, but that of the film’s antagonist Mrs. Danvers (Judith Anderson). Danvers is at first introduced as Manderley’s housekeeper, frequently divulging bits of information to the second Mrs. De Winter about Rebecca. However, the film’s viewers come to learn that she and Maxim’s late wife had an especially intimate relationship.

In the decades since the film’s release, many queer film theorists have singled out this character as a coded lesbian. Evidence of this can be found during the scene in which the second Mrs. De Winter wanders into the forbidden west wing bedroom. It is in these moments, that Danvers recounts the many nights in which Rebecca would gather herself from the bathtub; dripping wet as her faithful housekeeper gently brushed her hair. From a contemporary lens, one might find this exchange suggestive enough on face value. However, from the context of the censored era in which the film was produced, this exchange went unnoticed by the Hays office. Of the film’s audience upon it’s initial release, it’s likely only queer viewers picked up on the deeper implications of Danver’s statement. At no point does Danvers specify that Rebecca bothered to dress herself after her bath. By the housekeeper’s own admission, she lovingly brushed Rebecca’s hair as she sat before her dripping wet.

Anderson plays this scene as a woman who recollects her fondest memories of a long lost lover; gesturing to placements around the bedroom in which she and Rebecca sat and spent time together. These actions and admission would be enough to certify Danvers as queer coded, yet she does not stop there. Moving over to the bed, Danvers reveals an embroidered case made by herself, with Rebecca’s first initial. From inside of the case, Danvers then pulls out a black negligee, proudly displaying it before the second Mrs. De Winter. In a lustful voice, the housekeeper proclaims “Did you ever see anything so delicate? Look, you can see my hand through it!”1 Of this development, film critic Tania Modleski claims that Danvers seems “To be possessed, haunted, by Rebecca and to have a sexual attachment to the dead woman”2 In other words, one could view this exchange as proof that not only did Danvers find Rebecca to be desirable; but that she was Danvers’ sole purpose for living.

This is evident come the film's end; when Danvers lights Manderley ablaze, destroying the hallowed estate as well as taking her own life. In committing this act, Danvers avenges the woman she was devoted to before all others. Judith Anderson was highly praised for her performance as Danvers, and received an Academy Award Nomination for Best Supporting Actress. In the years following the film’s release, some have criticized its depiction of Danvers as being a prototype for the battle-axe bitter woman archetype. However, many film scholars and queer theorists hold this characterization in high regard; as it’s portrayal of a lesbian character is far more nuanced than any other of it’s era.

Eight years after the release of Rebecca, Hitchcock would release his first film shot in color. Rope was based on the play by the same name, which in of itself was inspired by the real life Leopold and Loeb murders. The film’s narrative involves two young men, Brandon (John Dall) and Phillip (Farley Granger), who strangle to death one of their former classmates, David (Dick Hogan). Like the real life murderers, Brandon and Phillip committed this act out of the need to please their own warped egos. Murdering this young man in their shared apartment, the two did so as an act of intellectual prowess. But committing what they felt was the perfect crime, isn’t the only thing Brandon and Phillip have in common with their real life counterparts. Like the real Leopold and Loeb, Brandon and Phillip were also lovers.

Unlike other films, Brandon and Phillip’s status as queer characters is remarkably not subtextual but in fact textual. The distinction for this is made quite evident during a scene in which Brandon and Phillip are hosting a cheeky dinner party, when Janet (Joan Chandler) asks where the telephone is. Brandon informs her that the telephone is in the bedroom, to which she coyly replies “How cozy.”3 This remark is even more evident at face value than that of Mrs. Danvers’ in Rebecca. At no point are we informed that there is a second bedroom; and if there was, wouldn’t Brandon specify that the phone was in his bedroom? How this exchange got past the censors is unknown, as the Hays office was keeping a close eye on this production. However it is worth pointing out that the ‘possible’ sexual relationship between Brandon and Phillip, was actually toned down from the original play.

Besides the fact that these two characters are indeed based on two real life homosexuals, and the suggestive nature of this exchange alone; there are plenty of other innuendos throughout the film. There is a crucial answer as to why the filmmaker never shows the two men kiss, let alone provide any concrete definition as to what their relationship status is. Film theorist Robin Wood explains this as being due to “A Hollywood movie made in the late forties could not possibly answer a question it couldn’t even raise.”4 In other words, since the Hays office would censor any direct confirmation that Brandon and Phillip were lovers; Hitchcock specifically chose to answer this question by leaving it unspoken. Therefore, by not saying that the two weren’t lovers, one could justifiably assume that they were.

In 1960, Alfred Hitchcock would release the film that would perhaps define his legacy; Psycho, starring Anthony Perkins and Janet Leigh. The film concerns a young woman named Marion (Janet Leigh) who has stolen forty thousand dollars in cash, and is now on the run. Marion stops at a vacant motel in the middle of nowhere, run by a meek young man named Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins). Bates offers Marion an invitation to dinner with his mother and himself, to which she accepts. However, as the two chat over dinner in his office, Marion becomes aware of the abusive nature of Norman’s relationship with his mother. It is then that Marion makes what is perhaps her fatal mistake of suggesting that Norman put his mother someplace where she can be looked after.

This in turn infuriates Bates, as Marion catches a glimpse at the predatory side of Norman’s personality. This all finally comes to an end, when Marion thanks the motel owner for dinner and returns to her room. As Marion undresses however, the viewer quickly learns that she is far from safe; as Hitchcock shows the woman in a state of undress from Norman’s point of view. Bates gave her the room next to his office, which has a peephole hidden behind a picture frame. Furthermore, what follows is perhaps the most iconic sequence in all of cinematic history. As Marion lathers herself up in the shower; the filmmaker cuts back and forth between her, and the point of view of an intruder who slowly creeps into the bathroom.

As Marion rinses her hair, the viewer begins to make out a shadowy silhouette of a woman holding a knife from behind the shower curtain. Suddenly, the curtain is rapidly drawn back. Mr. Hitchcock then graces the audience with shots of the silhouetted woman raising her knife in stabbing motion, as it intersects with the horrified expression on Marions face. As the iconic score drowns out the majority of the victim’s screams, the viewer sees her fall to the shower floor. As the music comes to a stop the shadowy figure flees the scene, before Norman can be heard screaming from the house “Mother! Oh god mother, blood!”5 What the viewer does not yet understand, is that there has been no mother for quite some time. Her personality has been taken over by her son, who now dresses in her clothes while killing anyone whom ‘mother’ would deem to be a threat.

In examining the potential of Norman being a queer codded character; one must fully analyse the first twenty minutes of his screen time, as they are crucial to how he is identified. Ignoring what the film’s plot twist informs us of Bates’ identity, one must first begin with the voyeuristic aspects of his personality. For the sake of academia we will be considering the term queer, to the fullest extent of what is non-heteronormative behavior. A voyeur is someone who gains sexual satisfaction from watching strangers undress; this is something mainstream heterosexual society frowns upon. Therefore, one could argue that these voyeuristic aspects of his personality, code the character as abnormal or queer. What’s interesting about Norman’s particular form of queerness, is that Hitchcock involves the viewer in his acts of deviance.

In truth, it is this form of queerness, that the majority of discourse surrounding the film has tended to overlook. In regards to the scene in which Norman is seen peeping on Marion; film theorist William Rothman notes of this shot, “This is Norman’s eye, but it also stands in for our eye and Hitchcock’s eye-for any eye intently engaged in the act of viewing.”6 In other words, because Norman’s point of view has taken command of the frame; the viewer is now seeing what he sees. It is due to this, that as Norman takes his pleasure from watching the nude Marion, Hitchcock has made us just as complicit as Bates. More so, it is in this regard that Psycho revels in this form of queerness; as every shot is meant to suggest the viewer is complacent in the violence that has unfolded before them. In analysing the subsequent scene, Rothman also points out that in the shot where Marion looks up, “The shower head is the double of Norman’s peephole; it is an eye staring into the camera.”7 In other words, every shot from this point on is meant to be imagined from that of a peephole. Psycho serves as an allegory for Voyeurism; the film itself is an act of queer self-satasfaction that Mr. Hitchcock has invited the viewer to partake in.

That being said, what of the act of queerness that scholars have given the majority of discourse too? Is Norman Bates meant to be some sort of a queer boogeyman who crossdresses and preys upon women? This is an incredibly complex issue, and the answer to such a question depends not only on whether the film’s final moments are meant to be taken at face value; but even if it is, does such explanation even matter? In the climax of the film, Marion’s sister Lila (Vera Miles) enters the basement of the Bates house. In search of answers to her sister’s whereabouts; Lila finds the mummified corpse of Mrs. Bates sitting in a rocking chair. Lila screams in horror, only to draw the attention of Norman; who clad in his mother’s dress, wields a butcher knife and a sadistic grin. Before he can claim his next victim however, he is tackled to the ground by Sam (John Gavin).

Images presented in scenes such as this have been problematic for a number of reasons. Firstly, there’s the fact that Norman’s reemergence opens the flood gate of questions concerning what to identify him as. But mainly because the image of a male presenting figure with clear signs of mental illness, who happens to be wearing a dress; has led to some truly intolerable rhetoric concerning members of the transgendered community. Queer film theorist Alexander Dotty has also expressed the complications in how to best define Bates. Of Norman’s sexuality, Dotty claims that “Should I read him as homosexual/gay? Or does the film seem to represent him as straight? Maybe he’s bisexual? Some viewers attempt to steer clear of these questions by suggesting Norman is asexual or childlike, and therefore he should not be considered in sexual terms. To these people, I would say that anyone who constructs a peephole in order to watch women undressing is not asexual.”8 In other words, due to Norman’s voyeuristic behaviours, he can not be considered asexual.

While some critics have speculated that Hitchcock intended Bates to be seen as an example of a crazed homosexual; others would insist that Norman is clearly heterosexual. Of the two stances, one must find the latter to be more accurate for two reasons. First, the majority of male on female attackers are statistically heterosexual. In fact violence against women and homosexuals are frequently linked by the same perpetrators. Of this notion, Robin Wood points out that “There is always a close relation between a heterosexual male’s attitudes to gays and his attitude to women; to put it simply, one will expect a homophobe to treat women very badly.”9 In other words, because we live in a sexist society; for a man to engage in behavior that is deemed feminine, said man is essentially relinquishing a part of his masculinity in the eyes of a misogynist. For it is misogyny that is the square root of homophobia; and if you were to throw a rock at a misogynist, you’ve probably also struck a homophobe as well.

Further evidence of Norman being heterosexual, is that the origin story presented to the viewer in the film’s closing moments; heavily derives from the story of Oedipus. In the film’s final scene, Norman has been taken into police custody. It is here the viewers are introduced to Dr. Richmond (Simon Oakland); who recounts the lives of Norman and Norma Bates. Richmonds explains that Norman murdered his mother and her lover years ago out of jealousy. However, being unable to bear the guilt of matricide, Norman stole her corpse and began to treat it as if she were still alive. The doctor goes on to explain that Norman recreated his mother in his own mind as an alternate personality; with this one being just as jealous and possessive as his actual mother was. In explaining why he murders women; Richmond explains that whenever Norman feels attracted to a woman, his mother's personality takes over in a fit of rage. However, just because Norman is attracted to members of the opposite sex, that isn’t to suggest that he’s heteronormative.

When pressed about why Norman dresses as his mother, Sheriff Chambers (John Mclntire) incorrectly presumes that it's because he’s a transvestite. While the film does point out that’s not what motivates Norman; it’s not unimaginable how the character’s legacy has been linked to the issue of gender. Of this predicament, Dotty explains that Norman is probably best described as queer; but also that films like Psycho “May have helped foster some of the early development and use of queer theory within film and popular culture studies, as the concept of queerness offered a way to discuss nonheteronormative gender and sexuality.”10 In other words, Norman’s otherness prevents him from being labeled as straight in the heteronormative sense. Norman Bates is a straight male with a fetish for voyeurism; and who also crossdresses, albeit unconsciously. It is impossible to categorise him as heteronormative, so he is therefore queer.

In considering all of this, one would be remiss to not acknowledge the harmful rhetoric that this film potentially perpetuates. In an era in which transgender and gender non-conforming people are persecuted by both the public, but also government policies; one must wonder if the image of a knife-wielding Bates dressed in drag, has intentionally or not aided in harmful misconceptions. In considering this, let us first play the devil’s advocate and say that these depictions were intended to strike the nerve that they did. That perhaps Hitchcock created Bates as a means to warn viewers of the threat queers potentially posed. What Alfred Hitchcock’s opinion of gay people was, is something that will forever be undetermined.

However it is worth noting that over the course of his career, the filmmaker worked with many gay actors not including theses three. Some of said actors, Hitchcock worked with multiple times. The reality is Hitchcock didn't hold strong feelings towards homosexuals period. In fact, according to Robin Wood, the evidence regarding the filmmaker’s feelings towards homosexuals “Suggests an ambivalence that parallels and is closely related to the ambivalence towards women.”11 In other words, Hitchcock’s notorious demeanor towards women could also be said of his demeanor towards queer people.

Furthermore, the term transgender did not exist in the filmmaker’s lifetime, and if it did, there is no evidence that he would have been familiar of it’s existence. Yet even still, I digress; what if these films are meant to be condemnations of queer existence? Films such as Psycho and even Rope can be seen as perpetuating harmful notions about homosexuals, especially from the viewpoint of an audience member from the era of which these films were released. Of this paradox, Robin Wood addresses that these films “Can be read as associating homosexuality with the unnatural, the sick, the perverse,-with ‘evil’ and fascism. Nothing prohibits such a reading; Hitchcock and/or his writers may have thought that’s what the film is saying. But what Hitchcock though the film was saying is of little relevance.”12 In other words, even if the filmmaker meant these depictions to be taken as a biggoted attack on queer people, his intentions are and should be seen as irrelevant. When an artist creates and presents said creation to society, the creation now partly belongs to the audience. Whatever the film means to an individual viewer, is still relevant even if it’s not remotely what the creator had in mind. After all the majority of queer readings are of films not necessarily made for a queer audience; but films that the queer audience has reappraised.

While there are other factors that could lend to a queer reading; a film having queer coded characters certainly lends to the credibility of said reading. Furthermore, what also lends to a potential queer reading is if the text was created by a queer author. In the case of film, the term author generally applies to the filmmaker themself. This term can however extend to the screenwriter in some cases, as having a queer person responsible for crafting the narrative upon which your reading is based on also adds credence. With the example of Rope, the film was written by screenwriter Arthur Laurents; who was himself a gay man. Laurents was also at one point romantically involved with one of the film’s stars Farley Granger.

On that note, while I won’t declare that the role of authorship also extends to a film’s actors; it is worth noting the authenticity brought to a queer character by an actor who is themselves queer. Therefore, one could argue that a gay actor could bring a level of nuance and depth to a gay character that perhaps wasn’t already on the page, more so than a cis-gendered heterosexual actor might be capable of. In other words, while not holding the title of authorship; one could argue that a queer actor enhances a queer coded text, as they themselves have had a shared experience with the subject material. Is having a queer actor in your film constitute it for being queer cinema? Not necessarily, but it adds a level of engagement between the actor and the queer audience. Therefore, it is in that regard that said film might be acclaimed by a queer audience. In the case of Rope, both Farley Granger and his co-star John Dall are cited by film historians as having been closeted actors of the era, as was Psycho star Anthony Perkins.

As for the main author, that being the director himself; how could a straight man’s work constitute as queer cinema? Dotty cite some great parameters for this, claiming that “A case could be developed for directors as queer auteurs on the basis of their being queer, or on the evidence that many of their films hold, or have held, particularly meaningful places within queer cultural history, with or without knowledge of the director’s sexuality.”13 In other words, despite the fact that Hitchcock’s sexuality may never be confirmed; one could still label him as a queer auteur, as many of his films have had meaningful places in queer culture. Furthermore, some film critics such as Scott Badman and Connie Russell Hosier, would argue that while “His gay coding undoubtedly reinforced those toxic attitudes among straight audiences sometimes. However, Hitchcock’s thorough and thoughtful development of so many gay characters reveal his humanity and acceptance of homosexuality.”14 In other words, to analyse Hitchcock today through that of a queer lense; one could find that these characterisations actually highlight the depth and nuance of queer individuals.

Sir Alfred Hitchcock is, to this day, regarded as one of the greatest filmmakers of all time. It is Hitchcock’s representation of non-heteronormative sexuality (be it repressed or not),that has captured the attention of contemporary scholars and critics in Queer Theory have taken a particular interest in Hitchcock. So this begs the question: is a queer reading possible of Hitchcock’s films? Yes, even though the filmmaker was not queer, as the majority of queer readings are of films not necessarily made for a queer audience; but films that the queer audience has reappraised. A queer reading of a particular film can also be defined by the sexuality of the film’s writer and actors. Furthermore a queer reading can also be held if a text has character who identify as queer, or if the text’s themes relate to issue regarding the queer community. What makes Hitchcock’s use of queer coding so exceptional; is that his films where made in an era in which queers tended to be coded in two-dimensional villainy. Whereas, his three most queer coded films, Rebecca, Rope, and Psycho all depicted non-heteronormativity with a depth and nuance that other films of the era did not. It is in analysing Hitchcock through a queer lense, that one is able to discover such three-dimensionality.

Bibliography

1. Hitchcock, Alfred, dir. Rebecca. United States: Selznick. 1940. DVD.

2. Modleski, Tania. “Woman and The Labyrinth.” Essay. In The Women Who Knew Too Much: Hitchcock and Feminist Theory. New York: Routledge, 2016.

3. Hitchcock, Alfred, dir. Rope. Warner Bros. Pictures. 1948. DVD.

4. Wood, Robin. “The Murderous Gays:” Out in Culture, 1995, 209. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv1220htt.15.

5. Hitchcock, Alfred, dir. Psycho. Paramount Pictures. 1960. DVD.

6. Rothman, William. “The Universal Hitchcock.” A Companion to Alfred Hitchcock, 2012, 297. https://doi.org/10.1002/9781444397321.ch19.

7. Ibid, 300-301.

8. Doty, Alexander. Flaming Classics: Queering the Film Canon. New York, NY: Routledge, 2010.

9. Wood, Robin. Hitchcock's Films Revisited. New York: Columbia U.P., 2002, 199-200.

10. Doty, Alexander. Flaming Classics: Queering the Film Canon. New York, NY: Routledge, 2010.

11. Wood, Robin. Hitchcock's Films Revisited. New York: Columbia U.P., 2002, 202.

12. Wood, Robin. “The Murderous Gays:” Out in Culture, 1995, 209. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv1220htt.15.

13. Doty, Alexander. Making Things Perfectly Queer: Interpreting Mass Culture. Minneapolis u.a.: Univ. of Minnesota Press, 1993, 24.

14. Scott Badman & Connie Russell Hosier. “Gay Coding in Hitchcock Films.” American Mensa, February 7, 2017. https://www.us.mensa.org/read/bulletin/features/gay-coding-in-hitchcock-films/.