While she was incomparable as Emily Hartley on The Bob Newhart Show, her most profound impact on the collective unconscious came with her portrayal of Annie Hayworth in Hitchcock's The Birds.
The human race can be dichotomized along many different lines: Dog people vs. Cat people. Rollercoaster freaks vs. Ferris Wheel junkies. Carrot eaters vs. Celery fans. People who melt at the sound of Karen Carpenter's voice vs. People who just don't get it.
In The Birds two archetypes meet: Tippi Hedren's icy blond ... vs. Suzanne Pleshette's smoldering brunette.
The odds were against Pleshette. Annie Hayworth is Bodega Bay's schoolteacher, a single woman headed for spinsterhood - dumped by Rod Taylor's Mitch Brenner. (Taylor's cleft chin actually received a special Oscar that year, presented by Kirk Douglas.) Mitch takes up with Melanie Daniels (Tippi) soon after she drives up from San Francisco with a pair of lovebirds, no doubt signaling to the audience Hitchcock's preference.
Yet Pleshette subverts all expectations by simply out-sexying Tippi Hedren. If the world can be divided between Suzanne Pleshette people and Tippi Hedren people, then the former group is surely larger. No contest. I combed YouTube for video proof of my unarguable thesis. Here's a remix of the scene where Annie and Melanie chat about Mitch and Mitch's mother in Annie's cottage:
I can't tell what Annie is serving. (Port? Sherry? Scotch?) Clearly she's a good host. More importantly, look at the way she smokes!
To be sure, I am NOT using the death of Suzanne Pleshette as an excuse to bash Tippi Hedren. As readers of this blog know, it's not anti-Tippi Hedren to be pro-Suzanne Pleshette. In fact in 1996 I had the pleasure of meeting Tippi Hedren on a special tour of her California nature preserve Shambala. (My friend Richard was working at Fox Television and his boss Trevor took him and a group of friends, including me, on a tour.) After the psychological torment Tippi underwent at the hands of Hitchcock, it's remarkable that she maintains the presence of mind to interface with cheetahs and pumas on a daily basis.
I'm merely paying tribute to the achievements of actress (and unwitting brunette activist) Suzanne Pleshette, in a culture that worships blonds.
Look at this scene from The Birds:
At 3:00, Annie takes the information that Melanie has given her and, without missing a beat, takes control. Witness her calm during crisis. (Annie Hayworth for FEMA chief!)
I drove up to Bodega Bay in 2004 and had my picture taken in front of that schoolhouse. Sadly I can't find it now. Here's a picture of the mouse pad I bought, though:
By the way the scene in the diner in The Birds is my favorite. Mrs. Bundy, in the center of the mouse pad, is the elderly ornithologist who doubts Melanie's claims about the murderous birds.
I have long hated Mrs. Bundy. The character, played by English stage actress Ethel Griffies, is perhaps the greatest portrait of a know-it-all in cinema history. I can still hear my grandmother scowling at the TV when Mrs. Bundy lectures Melanie about birds being on "this planet since archeopteris, 140 million years ago." Meanwhile the seaside town is on the verge of catastrophe!
When the town needs action, Mrs. Bundy is the opposite, an ineffectual eggheady wonk. Frankly she is the reason that I would have had to vote for Eisenhower over Adlai Stevenson. She is imprisoned in her own ivory tower, completely detached from reality. Mrs. Bundy prattles while Bodega Bay burns.
I'm convinced that if Annie Hayworth's eyes hadn't been plucked out by this part of the movie, then the gas station never would have blown up.
Do you have any thoughts on the passing of Suzanne Pleshette? Or opinions on Mrs. Bundy?
Reader Comments ( Page 4 of 5)
46. Bobbleheaddoll,
With any death, there is a tendency to blame the victim, even when the victim is 70 years old. And yes, clearly in Suzanne Pleshette's case there was a link between her smoking and her somewhat untimely death.
But Suzanne Pleshette's smoky voice was not the result of her smoking. If you do just the tiniest bit of research you will see, firstly, that her voice was smoky in her earliest film roles. Secondly, she says herself that when she was a young child (younger than 10 if i recall correctly) people used to mistake her for her father when she answered the phone.
If it was smoking that made it that way, well then my dad's voice should be really, really husky by now, and yet it isn't. So demonize smoking if you must (I know, I know, a loathesome habit), but don't blame her wonderful voice on it.
jjj
Xenobia at 12:14AM on Jan 22nd 2008
47. Smoking claims yet another victim. Even as a kid I could hear it in her voice. Been watching some reruns- we will miss you!
noahlot at 12:21AM on Jan 22nd 2008
48. Regarding Suzanne Pleshette -
One can easily see her talent and skill from the beginning. Too bad one of her better roles is not available yet on DVD - the lone air crash survivor in "Fate is the Hunter". After seeing her in that, there's no way that anyone who loves good acting wouldn't take note of her appearances....
Chris at 12:23AM on Jan 22nd 2008
49. Suzanne was a classy lady, I hope someeone-Mails People Magazine and tell them to have a big story in there as a tribute to her. I do not have their E- Mail address. Women would kill to have a sexy voice like hers. I shall miss you, Suzanne, I named my daughter Suzanne. May you rest in peace.
Annie Hall at 1:41AM on Jan 22nd 2008
50. I always thought Suzanne was hot. Maybe when I get to heaven, she and I will be together!!!
Bob at 3:36AM on Jan 22nd 2008
51. always loved her voice!
web jones at 3:54AM on Jan 22nd 2008
52. Brava, Ms. Pleschette, to a bursting of radiance and energy in this, now, ever darker, colder, world.
The pleasure was all ours! God bless you and yours,
JMAnderson Go,Canada!
Jacqueline Anderson at 6:22AM on Jan 22nd 2008
53. Dear Mo,
It is so comforting to read about Suzanne Pleshette, instead of the more "in" topics du jour.
I was a moderate fan, and obviously, the iconic figure I had of her was that of Annie Hayworth -- she was, at least to me, more human than the cool, composed, aristocratic, quintessentially Hitchcockian blonde Natalie 'Tippi' Hedren as Melanie Daniels-, and also the young wife of now-very-much-in-use bad giuy Ian McShane in a little seen but much loved film comedy called "If this is Tuesday, then it must be Belgium".
(We didn't have any Newhart, growing up in Mexico City. But we had MTM! Yay!)
Perhaps Miss Pleshette's death won't make much of an impact in this day, when it's more important to know wether or not certain pop stars are having meltdowns deluxe or are just fakin' it for the benefit of the cameras, the paps and the weekly rags. Miss Pleshette was dignified, and a class-act, pretty much like Anne Bancroft before her (when Anne Bancroft died, I actually mourned. I felt cheated. Not Mrs. Robinson! Not HER!) or some other figures -- Miss Deborah Kerr, as an example. They are no longer en-vogue (Lord knows, when Julie Christie passes on someday hopefully in a long time, I will cry too).
I am very sorry to come across gloomy on your blog, Mo, since I have no right, but I feel stricken, and it is not only about Suzanne Pleshette's death. Perhaps it's a bit of everything, perhaps it's the thrill of it all getting to me.
I've been an expat for some time, and I am feeling fine, I am not bemoaning the fact that I miss my family, for in all truth, I have no other family than my mother and I am in touch with her, however I am perhaps gloomy because a myriad reasons: the skies are gray and I think it's gonna rain today, and today it's the birthday of the erstwhile love of my life, and even though we are in the same town (he's a symptom of my move, not a cause), the same city by the sea; I am not celebrating with him. Oh, we went through that, and my schoolgirl crush became a good friendship. But still, I am not going to. I am very respectful of that.
Perhaps I am just gloomy because. That can be the only explanation plausible enough, and I should apologize for coming into your blog to spill my own funk into a space that does not belong to me, so I apologize.
Thinking of Miss Pleshette, or rather, of the concept of dying particularly this week that coincides with the anniversary of my grandmothers' (I was raised by her in part) death, has been hard. I am not a really good mourner in the sense that I mourn when I have to: I mourn when it strikes me.
I don't know why I am speaking of this here, since I've no right and besides, you wouldn't care -- nor should anyone have to- but I guess I just needed to vent this unrest, this feeling of sadness, and try and reach some catharsis.
Thank you for your tribute to Miss Pleshette.
She will be missed.
And I will be better, I am sure, I cannot promise but I am sure, I pray ever so hard.
Miguel Cane at 8:14AM on Jan 22nd 2008
54. We love you Miguel! Put on your black leotard and do the Sprocketts dance, you'll start to feel better immediately.:)
And always remember, you are the father of the Cashmere Revolution!! We look to you for guidance!
Viva!
Gabrielle at 8:24AM on Jan 22nd 2008
55.
Miguel,writer extraordinaire,the reason you shared can only mean that you correctly sensed a family here for you.
A big Roccat hug just for thee!
xo, kate
ah, clem at 8:39AM on Jan 22nd 2008
56. Yes, feel better, Miguel. And thanks for bringing up Anne Bancroft, Suzanne Pleshette's predecessor in the role of Annie Sullivan in The Miracle Worker on Broadway. (What is it about that role that it could only be played by impossibly sexy brunettes?)
Psychotherapists will have their hands (or ears?) full this week with patients talking about their feelings for Suzanne Pleshette, just as the death of Mrs. Robinson dominated sessions the week Anne Bancroft passed.
Mo Rocca at 11:21AM on Jan 22nd 2008
57. Mo, Kate, Gabrielle, all Roccats,
Thank you.
I've been on a binge, watchin Au Revoir Les Enfants and having a good cry. It's not through yet -- the cry, I mean,- but I'll get there, I hope.
Coming up next after Malle: Hitchcock, with Misses Pleshette and Hedren on tow.
Thanks for your kind words, all. Yes, perhaps this feels like family. After having a big falling out with what is your biological family, even the anonimity of kindly words on a screen is comforting and warming.
Anne, Anne. I was arriving on LaGuardia when I heard about it. I was coming in for the Batman Begins press junket. Michael Caine and I had a good talk about her, and he seemed moved and sad on Annie's passing.
And she was at her most smoldering not as Mrs. Robinson, mind you, but on two other little known movies: Jack Clayton's The Pumpkin Eater (nobody could have a nervous breakdown in Harrod's like Annie!) and then John Ford's Opera Finis: 7 Women.
Anne Bancroft ruled the world.
Oh, and Julie Christie got an Oscar nom! That made me feel a little better.
I just wish January was over and done with. Eliot was wrong about April, nacht.
Thanks everybody, and Spain reads you.
Miguel Cane at 12:26PM on Jan 22nd 2008
58. Miguel:
keep your heart open, even after you've had that wonderfully cleansing cry,
and,
be ready for new, beautifully loving people to enter your life!
*** it WILL happen!!
Mary Irene at 12:45PM on Jan 22nd 2008
59. Aw Miguel,
Thank you for you words from the heart. The are more than just catharsis; they help in keeping us us all on the beam.
Mo, may I please paste another O'Hara poem? It seems relevant and I promise not to make a habit of it.
For Miguel:
POEM
“Two communities outside Birmingham, Alabama, are
still searching for their dead.” --News Telecast
And tomorrow morning at 8 o’clock in Springfield , Massachussetts,
my oldest aunt will be buried from a convent.
Spring is here and I am staying here, I’m not going.
Do birds fly? I am thinking my own thoughts, who else’s?
When I die, don’t come, I wouldn’t want a leaf
to turn away from the sun—it loves it there.
There’s nothing so spiritual about being happy
but you can’t miss a day of it, because it doesn’t last.
So this is the devil’s dance? Well I was born to dance.
It’s a sacred duty, like being in love with an ape,
and eventually I’ll reach some great conclusion, like assumption,
when at last I meet exhaustion in these flowers, go straight up.
--Frank O’Hara
April 17, 1956
Your Fellow Roccat, JG
John Giza at 12:57PM on Jan 22nd 2008
60. Thank you very much, John & Mary
(sounds like a 1960s film with Dustin Hoffman and Mia Farrow, doesn't it? Wait, wait, don't tell me!:D)
The poem is very beautiful, John. Thank you very much.
I'm most obliged.
Miguel Cane at 1:00PM on Jan 22nd 2008