70 years of "To Catch a Thief"
“I’ve never caught a jewel thief before. It’s stimulating.”
Alfred Hitchcock’s To Catch a Thief was released on this day, 70 years ago. Despite its star power, it’s a picture of Hitchcock’s that has gotten slightly less attention over the years. Perhaps this is because it’s much less a “suspense” film than a fun, romantic spy thriller. But in any case, it’s a film that’s well worth your time, whether you’re a Hitchcock completionist or are just looking for a good old-fashioned summer flick.
And though it might be shinier than his other suspense films, this is a story with many of Hitchcock’s trademark concerns: notably, mistaken identity and the framing of an innocent man. It opens with an introduction to John Robie, a.k.a “The Cat” (Cary Grant), a retired jewel thief who’s found himself suspected by the police in their investigation of multiple robberies in the French Riviera. Robie, confident in his innocence and determined to catch the copycat “Cat” in the act, flees to the picturesque Riviera to find the real thief himself. To do so, Robie decides simply to act as he would have had he still been a criminal, hoping to catch the real one in the act. Posing as an American businessman, he strikes up a friendship with who he believes could be targeted next: wealthy widow Jessie Stevens (Jessie Royce Landis) and her daughter Frances (Grace Kelly). As the relationship between Robie and Frances grows more affectionate, she begins to suspect his identity and his real reason for entering her life.
In many ways, it’s a straightforward tale of a criminal returning for “one last job,” albeit for moral reasons this time. Though still very much beloved, this is the kind of premise that now might seem utterly cliché; we see films all the time about an aging criminal/detective/special agent being forced by circumstance to return to the field one last time. So while this might not seem like anything groundbreaking now, it’s films like To Catch a Thief that created these tropes in the first place, and with such success that audiences naturally wanted more.
Much of the success of this narrative, in this case, comes from the complexity of Robie’s position—he’s innocent, yet in his quest to prove this he ends up acting like a criminal. But beyond this moral irony, and the sense of anxiety which pervades our central character’s mind (interestingly, Hitchcock would have Cary Grant once again playing a man desperate to prove his own innocence four years later in North by Northwest), the film is simply an exercise in style. It’s basically impossible to talk about this film without touching on the real jewels, which are Grace Kelly’s outfits. Impeccably designed by Edith Head (as so many classic costumes are), Kelly’s outfits and her own enigmatic screen presence are just as captivating as the story itself. Every look is incredible, from that gorgeous blue evening gown to the pink skirt and blouse duo that Frances sports for a drive in her sapphire Sunbeam Alpine (film stills of her gloves alone in this scene have found a corner of internet fame on Pinterest, if that tells you anything about her style’s lasting legacy).
And while I could talk about Frances’ clothing all day, the film’s style also extends to its clever editing, with Hitchcock once again working to get around production code regulations about intimacy onscreen. I am talking, of course, about the famous fireworks scene in the film, in which shots of Robie and Frances kissing are intercut with images of fireworks outside the room. The symbolism here is pretty self-explanatory, and Hitchcock was certainly in on the joke. The fireworks effectively acted as a stand-in for explicit sexuality, while having fun with the idea that this sexuality couldn’t be shown in the first place. It is also suggested that this was a way for the director to avoid accusations of “excessive and lustful” kissing scenes, which were outlawed by the code; by interrupting the lovers with fireworks, the kisses themselves could be said to be shorter.
So although it might not be his most famous, and is certainly not his most trademark work, To Catch a Thief has many of the same elements that are beloved of other Hitchcock films. It’s also the first of his films shot on VistaVision, and paired with the gorgeous location shots of France, it serves as something of a cinematic palate-cleanser from the greyed-out stuff we see today. Or, like I said earlier, just watch this if you’re in need of some quintessential fashion inspiration from Frances—you won’t be disappointed.
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