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These sequences showing the aftermath of the attack are strikingly reminiscent of Psycho

(Alfred Hitchcock, 1960), a film contemporaneous with Something Wild.57 The viscous stabbing of Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) in the shower in Psycho, punctuated by Hitchcock’s visceral editing, and the brutal rape of Mary Ann in Something Wild, are shocking and powerful in their brevity and their lack of visualization of actual violence. In Psycho, Hitchcock’s clever construction means we never see the knife pierce the body, and in

Something Wild, the image of Mary Ann about to be raped fades to black, as if in shame for Mary Ann, only returning once the act has been committed. The aftermath scenes are just as powerful for the amount of time and detail granted to the ‘clean-up’ operations. Tension never abates as we see Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) fastidiously clean down the bath tub and dispose of Marion’s body, and the full graphic horrors of Mary Ann’s traumatic experience are realized when we witness her scrubbing her own body down in the bathtub, as Schüfftan’s camera highlights the cuts and bruises that torment her body. We then see her carefully cutting the clothes she had been wearing into small threads, to be flushed down the toilet, again in a dispassionately restrained distant mid-shot. This is also akin to Psycho and the scene of Marion Crane disposing of her scraps of paper down the toilet.

Schüfftan’s approach to lighting these shots of Mary Ann in the bathtub of her family home is particularly interesting. His light glistens on the bare wet back of Mary Ann, creating a tension between what is a sexualized body and also a damaged body, suggesting that it is this sexuality which caused the attack. The lighting to Mary Ann’s face is equally as contentious. The make-up around her eyes is smudged and blurry, making them look oversized, and her face shines in the same way as her back from the combination of the water she is washing in and Schüfftan’s unforgiving light. The ultimate result is that, in these shots, Schüfftan skillfully makes Mary Ann’s appearance become reminiscent of a porcelain doll. This image

57 Psycho went on release on June 16th 1960, just before filming began in New York for Something Wild, on July 25th 1960.

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directly addresses the male gaze, suggesting that it is the rapist’s perception of her facile beauty, viewing her as nothing more than an object, which caused her to be attacked.

Once Mary Ann decides she can no longer face her parents and her previous life, she runs away from her family home and sets up a new life for herself, by renting a cramped room in a boarding house and finding her own job at a discount convenience store. Garfein (Johnson, 1963: 40) was keen to recreate such spaces on screen with the use of actual locations, a point which speaks to the observational tendencies of the film and the craft required in terms of Schüfftan’s use of the camera. There is no truer example of this than Mary Ann’s boarding house room, which is so cramped that the camera can only remain in a fixed point, with Schüfftan able only to pan up and down (see Figure 75). This exiguity of course functions to reinforce the cramped claustrophobic nature of Mary Ann’s new residence. For by choosing to shoot in actual interiors there is a lack of space to position large cameras and other equipment required for filmmaking. The effect of these cramped conditions is also a natural creation of more shadows, and thus there are great chiaroscuro lighting effects achieved by Schüfftan, reminiscent of the classic images of German Expressionism. One particular example is the staircase which Mary Ann must ascend to reach her room. Shadows dominate this space, cast up the wall by both the bodies that traverse it, and the banisters which follow the path of the stairs. It recalls in aesthetic terms the moment of horror in Nosferatu (F.W. Murnau, 1922) when the vampire ascends the staircase and approaches his victim. In these scenes, Secondspace again dominates. We understand everything from Mary Ann’s subjective point of view, so that all spaces, her room, the department store where she works, and even the city, become claustrophobic and/or intimitading spaces.

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Figure 75: Mary Ann struggling in her claustrophobic apartment.

In fact, despite being set in an expansive city, much of the film, from the rape of Mary Ann at the start, through until her realization of her own sense of self towards the end of the film, is set amongst such claustrophobic spaces, even in the streets of New York. Examples are the trees amongst which Mary Ann is raped, the subway train which becomes so busy and claustrophobic that it causes her to pass out, her boarding room, and even the store in which she works. For whilst the convenience store is a large and open space, the mise-en-scène is extremely claustrophobic. There are so many shelves and products throughout the store that the camera cannot see to the back, and the space is actually so contained that Mary Ann’s colleague must push past her whilst she is working, causing her extreme discomfort (Mary Ann is unable to cope with any form of human contact since her brutal attack, and clings to the walls once more when she is cruelly bullied by her colleagues). As Mary Ann’s condition

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worsens, making it impossible for her to now find her place in society, Schüfftan’s framing of her becomes tighter. This can be witnessed in the scene in which Mary Ann’s neighbour is raucously entertaining a gentleman next door. Mary Ann has just fled back to her bedsit after being jostled around by her colleagues at work, and is now clearly uncomfortable at the sound of overly familiar human contact next door.

Interior locations provide a claustrophobic space for the introverted characters of each of the three films, from which the exterior locations, and particularly those of the parks, may or may not act as a release. In Something Wild, Mike imprisons Mary Ann in his apartment for much of the second half of the film, giving neither the protagonist, nor the spectator, respite from this claustrophobic space. For a total of forty-three minutes Schüfftan’s camera does not escape this interior space, save to gaze longingly, alongside Mary Ann, at the outside space beyond the barrier of the window and its bars. The construction of this interior space by Schüfftan’s light and camera, and by the set design (of a location set, rather than studio), enhances this sense of oppression (see Figure 76).

As we can see from my approximate representation of this space in the diagram below, the layout of the room anticipates that of The L-Shaped Room (Bryan Forbes, 1962), which similarly explored the young female’s role in society.58 Mary Ann’s part of the apartment is surprisingly spacious compared to Mike’s, in which his bed is contained in cramped vicinity to all other necessities of home life; oven, sink and a small dining table. This living arrangement excludes Mary Ann from the domestic sphere of the home, making Mary Ann a prisoner, not only from the outside world, but also from the comforts of home life. Mary Ann

58The L-Shaped Room, based on the novel by Lynne Reid Banks, tells the story of Jane (Leslie Caron), who is pregnant but unmarried, and moves into a rather squalid boarding house. In her time at the boarding house Jane comes to know the various unusual individuals who occupy the other rooms, and begins to date Toby (Tom Bell), until he discovers that she is pregnant. When she goes into labor the resisdents of the boarding house all help Jane to the hospital, where she gives birth and reconciles with Toby, before leaving the boarding house and returning home to France.

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does not spend time in this area, except for when Mike invites her in with his attempts to impress her, by making her breakfast, and cooking her dinner. Crucially, when Mary Ann’s mother finds her daughter at the end of the film, Mary Ann is shown comfortably interacting with Mike in the domestic sphere, holding a pot of tea in her hand. Mary Ann’s bed has become a sofa, covered in scatter cushions, upon which one of their mutual friends sits.

Figure 76: A diagram of Mike's apartment.

For a greater understanding of how Mike’s apartment functions as part of Mary Ann’s withdrawal from the city, we can turn to feminist readings of cityspace. Such readings have found that public spaces are traditionally coded as masculine, ‘which implies and encodes the invisibility of women in the urban, their presence always problematic and transgressive’ (Mahoney, 1997: 171, reading Gillian Rose). Thus a feminist reading of this film could lead us to think that the narrative is expressing the idea that only an understanding of the urban as the masculine domain makes clear the dangers which present themselves to Mary Ann during the course of the film. Mary Ann is ‘punished’ for her presence in the masculine domain through her rape, and this is why Mike must remove Mary Ann from the masculine urban

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space, imprisoning her until she understands her role within the domestic sphere, hidden from the masculine urban environment. I would argue however that rather than encoding feminist reading Mahoney suggests, the radical director Garfein creates a dystopian vision of the city, in the manner of subjective Secondspace impressions.59 It is this dystopian vision of the city, following her rape, which Mary Ann is unable to cope with. By removing her from the city, Mike does not necessarily remove her from the masculine space, but the dystopian space. It is her prolonged removal from this space which allows Mary Ann to emerge into the city, as if rebirthed with new life, to see the city in its rather more mundane reality. So the apartment acts as both a claustrophobic Secondspace, and a purgatorial Secondspace for Mary Ann, from which a Thirdspace finally becomes possible when she is released into the city.

In The Hustler, conversely, the city is entirely coded as a masculine space, which prevents the female body from being an active presence in this urban environment. The urban interiors, like Something Wild, act as Secondspaces which reflect the anxieties of Sarah and Eddie. Beyond her brief presence in a city bar and a restaurant, within the city Sarah is only seen in domestic spaces (her apartment and the Louisville house). In terms of the lighting of Schüfftan and the production design of Harry Horner for Sarah and Eddie’s apartment, both seem keen to hide the fact that the location is actually a rather large space. They endeavour to hide this fact, in order to create a sense of claustrophobia. Horner achieves this by creating a very busy mise-en-scène, in which the set is cluttered with all manner of props. Schüfftan reinforces this effect by creating a cluttered lighting effect, casting spotlights around the busy set. He is careful, however, to avoid his usual technique of casting the brightest light onto the rear of the set. By avoiding this Schüfftan creates less depth in the image and creates the impression of a more claustrophobic space.

59Garfein’s radical pedigree is demonstrated by his first film, The Strange One (1957), which was subjected to heavy censorship for its veiled references to homosexuality in an American military academy.

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To highlight Sarah’s absence from the urban environment, she is seen in a brief exterior shot, in which she leaves a convenience store with her groceries, and crosses the street to her apartment building. She ventures out alone only in close proximity to the homestead, and remarks of her groceries to Eddie upon her return to the apartment, ‘I got enough so we won’t have to leave the house till Tuesday.’ Despite discussing how she has been out at work, this is not an environment we witness Sarah in, instead we see her confining herself to the apartment, venturing out only long enough to maintain their confine inside for as long as possible. As I shall later discuss, Sarah does briefly find respite from her claustrophobia when she and Eddie visit the park, and she is able to confess her love for Eddie.

Eddie in fact comes to mirror Sarah, having been feminized by his failure in the masculine sphere of the billiard hall (Secondspace). Thus, like Sarah, he confines himself to the domestic space. When he does attempt to reenter the urban-masculine environment he is physically damaged by the men of the pool hall, who break his wrists, disabling his body like Sarah’s, and forcing him to return to the domestic feminine sphere. This confinement of the feminine body ultimately results in Sarah’s suicide. This occurs in the narrative as a reaction to Bert’s aggressive sexual behavior towards her. It seems the act is also triggered by her distress at Eddie’s successful return to hustling. Eddie’s return to the pool hall can also be seen as his break from the domestic sphere he had been confined to with Mary Ann, and his return to the masculine-urban environment which she cannot be a part of. Sarah marks her suicide by using a symbol of her femininity, her lipstick, to write onto the bathroom mirror the words ‘PERVERTED’, ‘TWISTED’ and ‘CRIPPLED’, an indictment of either herself, or of Eddie’s hitherto failed masculine body. These domestic interiors can therefore be understood as the spaces where the characters take refuge from their fears of the Secondspace city, the urban-imaginary, beyond. Their inability to recognize the city in Firstspace terms, as it truly is, forces them to hide, and to create a space of claustrophobia. These claustrophobic

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interiors for the most part ultimately force our characters back out into the world to view the city anew. However, for Sarah, this containment and anxiety leads to her suicide.

Trois chambres à Manhattan is the film which demonstrates this discourse of a codified masculine space to the least degree. Kay is a dominant presence in the public spaces of the city, being familiar with the staff and patrons of the bars and diners she frequents. This is because Kay acts as a sexual threat to the masculine spaces. She has acted promiscuously twice (once by leaving her husband for the gigolo, the next time by leaving the gigolo for François), and this threat ultimately leads François to distrust her and to sleep with another woman. Kay does however, spend considerable time, alongside François, in domestic spaces, in particular the three bedrooms of the film’s title. These scenes offer a recreated glimpse of the sights and sounds of New York through the bedroom windows, which function in opposition to the realism of the exterior scenes shot on location in Manhattan.

These opposing methods in the representation of space mean we can interpret these spaces in different ways. The recreation of New York we glimpse at through the bedroom windows becomes a personal projection of this space by Kay and François, who have their own existence, their own ‘pure space’, contained within the confines of these bedroom walls (the Secondspace), devoid of the reality of the world beyond (the Firstspace). Kay and François are often filmed looking out from the bedroom windows (often during arguments), suggesting a desire to break from the confines of their relationship and find new freedom in the city beyond. Schüfftan reinforces this temptation with the world beyond through his use of lighting. He choose to cast strong light in through the windows, casting light on the side of the face closest to the city, and leaving the other side of the face in shade. This recalls Schüfftan technique of Rembrandt lighting, however in these instances it is created using an identifiable light source.

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Figure 77: A glimpse of the city through a bedroom window in Trois chambres à Manhattan.

In addition to domestic interiors, there are other examples of urban interiors which reinforce our characters’ relations to society. The most remarkable example is the space particular only to The Hustler: the pool halls, which function as the space of play. The sport of pool is the subject matter of the film, however is really little more than a device to explore the addictive and troublesome aspects of Eddie’s personality. This device warrants some exploration therefore, as does the space afforded to it and the way in which it is lit and shot. Let us begin with the concept of the pool hall as a space of play. Roger Caillois (2001: 6) has described ‘play’ as follows: ‘In effect, play is essentially a separate occupation, carefully isolated from the rest of life, and generally is engaged in with precise limits of time and space.’ He continues, ‘In every case, the game’s domain is therefore a restricted, closed, protected universe: a pure space.’ (2001: 7) For pool, and for The Hustler, this pure space of play is the pool hall.

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As if to assent that the pool hall is a pure space, ‘carefully isolated from the rest of life,’ is the preclusion of a female presence. Seemingly, this is a rule of the game, and an extension of the masculine-urban which seeks to confine female bodies to the domestic sphere. The one occasion when a female body does enter this space, when Sarah finds that Eddie has returned to that world, immediately precedes her suicide, with Burt’s harassment of her seemingly becoming a consequence or a punishment for her intrusion into the field of play.

In fact, every problem faced by Eddie and Sarah seems to be the result of the space of play bleeding into ‘real life’ beyond, and life intruding upon the game. This blurring of what should be clearly delineated boundaries, results in a number of Eddie’s problems. Meeting Sarah and choosing to walk away from the table results in Sarah setting up an oppositional space, her apartment, and more particularly, her bedroom, which is isolated from the rest of life, and host to a rather different form of play. Sarah’s removal from the wider cityspace is highlighted by Schüfftan’s extreme close-up of the apartment door, as Sarah sits waiting for Eddie to return from the pool hall. Clearly, Eddie must choose. He is punished when he plays at a new pool hall and overtly hustles the patrons. He has broken the rules of the sport and in doing so has tainted the pure space of play by bringing in the world beyond. In retaliation, Eddie’s wrists are broken, an act which is obscured from clear view by taking place behind a frosted glass window. Schüfftan casts a backlight from behind the glass, casting the figures as dramatic silhouettes as they attack Eddie’s body. It is an act we interpret solely through Schüfftan’s use of light, which creates a form of shadow play to convey the violence enacted upon Eddie. This act prevents him from reentering the space of play, and the thick plaster casts on his arms act as trophy-reminders of his subversive actions to the outside world.

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