With Dial M for Murder, Hitchcock questions our morality as a spectator, making us admire the sadistic charm of his killer thanks to a sumptuous script.

Hitchcock Revisited

Alfred Hitchock’s Dial M for Murder is set in a rather singular moment in American cinema. In 1953, the studios took a liking to the use of 3D in films, one of the inventions being tested by distributors to bring moviegoers back into the theater. This was one of the experiments being carried out by distributors in a bid to boost the audience numbers that had been in constant decline since 1946 with the rise of television. The film is adapted from the play of the same name, which had been released the previous year to great acclaim in the USA and Europe. Hitchcock took over the adaptation and produced the film with Warner. At the time, Jack Warner, head of the studio, was fully into the 3D movement and obviously wanted his master of suspense to give him something to feed this madness.

Fortunately for the filmmaker, who did not give in to the temptation of placing objects, animals or other 3D features in front of the camera, this three-dimensional movement died out the following year, 1954, the year the film was released. But in the process, Hitchcock did give Warner one shot, one that would stand out for its use of 3D effects: the murder scene involving Margot Wendice (Grace Kelly).

In adapting the play, Hitchcock retains the specificity of the setting, with Dial M for Murder taking place almost entirely in a single set, that of the Wendice apartment. The story is as follows: Tony Wendice (Ray Milland) plans to kill his wife Margot, with the complicity of Charles Swann (Anthony Dawson) – whom he blackmails into committing the deed – after discovering exchanges of letters between his wife and Mark Halliday (Robert Cummings), her lover. Tony has the perfect plan in mind, but everything goes wrong when Margot succeeds in killing Charles, so Tony tries to hide his innocence from Chief Inspector Hubbard (John Williams).

Without question, Dial M for Murder is a very dialogue-driven film, with long exchanges and monologues, such as when Tony reveals his entire plan to Charles. Leaving aside the murder scene, the film contains no action whatsoever. Yet Hitchcock hypnotizes us with his ability to get his actors to deliver so much dialogue without it seeming heavy-handed. This aspect is greatly helped by the performances of the actors, all of whom are absolutely magnificent in their own right. Throughout the film, Ray Milland maintains a vicious gaze, sometimes amused to see his plan executed to perfection, but whose simple wrinkle lets us know that the situation is getting out of hand. John Williams steals the show from the rest of the cast in more than one scene, so much so that it’s fun to discern on his face whether Tony’s manipulation is working, or not, on him. But in this confrontation between Tony, the inspector and Mark, nothing is ever shouted, they all maintain a sophisticated calm and respect for each other, without becoming irritating. Hitchcock manages to endear Tony to us through his confidence in his plan and the methodical charm with which he executes it, making the character all the more fascinating and sociopathic.

Another singular element of the film is that Dial M for Murder doesn’t really contain a main character, and while Tony Wendice can be considered the central character in the first half of the story, many scenes take place without his presence. In fact, it would be more appropriate to consider the apartment as the central character, and while the characters come and go and events accumulate, we remain within these four walls. The apartment’s architecture and objects take on central importance, along with the people who passed through the apartment hours before the murder, all resembling a giant jigsaw puzzle.

But of course, the sequence we all remember is Margot’s attempted murder. The sequence is a perfect example of Hitchcock’s method of suspense: we know from the start that the murder is going to happen, it’s an issue that Tony has been preparing since his meeting with Charles, we know every detail, every movement and the positioning of the characters. And Hitchcock takes the opportunity to play with our nerves, to stretch the elastic as far as possible in the most perverse way. As Tony realizes that his watch has stopped, he waits outside the phone booth while a man is on the phone. In an almost sadistic way, the filmmaker makes us long to see the killer and his accomplice succeed, to see the plan unfold to perfection. Finally, while Margot is on the phone, we see Charles waiting for the right moment to strangle her, Hitchcock once again taking advantage of the opportunity to stretch the scene by a few seconds. In the most sordid way possible, we wait for this moment – it’s the key scene – yet we know that Margot doesn’t deserve this, which further questions our moral stance in front of a film.

The filmaker delivers the major shot of his film as Margot holds out her hand while being strangled. As well as being a shot that makes perfect use of 3D, it represents Margot’s plea for help to the viewer, once again questioning our morality as we have supported the murderers all along, as a consequence of our deviant morality.

Dial M for Murder is exceptional for its pace, the performance of its actors and their dialogue. Like Tony’s character, Hitchcock directs this film with a methodical charm, where everything seems perfectly in place, fitting together perfectly to provide a fantastic viewing experience.