Notorious is one of my favorite Hitchcock films. Like so many of his later features it is saddled with a highly suspect plot that is driven by a set of poor decisions made by a handful of characters of such alarmingly low emotional intelligence it is a miracle they survive the first half of the film at all, yet it works. It keeps company with the likes of Strangers On A Train, Psycho, Rear Window, The Thirty-Nine Steps, North by North-West, The Lady Vanishes: it is a classic. It is tempting to put it all down to Ingrid Bergman's portrayal of Alicia Hubberman - which is faultless - but Bergman alone could not have made Notorious what it is: she also starred in Spellbound and Under Capricorn and was unable to save either of those films from limping into mediocrity. It is also appealing to suggest the obvious: that it is the combination of breathtaking cinematography, flawless supporting cast and Ben Hecht's cracking script that make it so good. But I believe that the primary reason Notorious excels is because of the abiding friendship, professional respect and unrequited love that existed between Alfred Hitchcock and Ingrid Bergman as they stepped up to make the film. The archetypal > themes that comprised their professional partnership inspired, amongst other things, Hitchcock's/Hecht's Alicia - a woman in a barren marriage desperate for love - and all those tender beautifully lit close-ups. It also allowed Bergman - and here a precedent was broken - to contribute, and to act upon, her insights as to the motivations and behavior of her character.
Hitchcock didn't suffer the opinions of his actors lightly, yet
where Notorious was concerned, he made an exception. For the duration of the shooting of the film, Bergman was Hitchcock's closest collaborator. I have a strong sense that the very thing that could have made Notorious lame - Hitchcock's unrequited love for Bergman - is also the very thing that saved it from obscurity and that we may have much - we will never how much - for which to thank Bergman.
There are many moments that make Notorious Bergman's picture, but I think the most extraordinary is the kiss outside the wine cellar. In all her films, Bergman always brought a vulnerability to her love scenes that imbued them with a real sense of intimacy, and Notorious is no exception: think of her in the infamous balcony scene or during her final descent down the staircase. Yet when Dev - ever the mercenary genius of improvisation - makes full use of Rains' approach and, pulling Alicia to him as they stand outside the wine cellar, orders her to kiss him, Bergman actually surpasses her own track record.
Suddenly in the arms of the man she really loves she is overcome with emotion; and for one second, maybe two, she separates her mouth from his, and in an attempt to give voice to the indescribable and to forge, experience and register a moment of pure intimacy, she utters one word, his name, 'Dev!' and all hell breaks loose. Never in the history of cinema has one word carried such an erotic charge. They could not be closer. He doesn't flinch. They barely move, but it is all there. And it's not just her voice, it is also her eyebrows. Just as she utters his name, Bergman furrows them. They tremble. They, along with her tremulous whisper, betray her true feelings, so that within the space of two seconds we witness Bergman experience both the heightened rush of intense sexual desire as well as the instantaneous relief afforded her by the act of surrender to it.
All this with one word - 'Dev' - and the furrowing of a pair of eyebrows. So much emotion conveyed with so little and in such a brief period of time.
It is because of moments like these that Notorious is timeless - the film gets under your skin and into your psyche - and given the history of the film and her beautiful performance at the center of it, it is fitting that it should be Bergman
