This episode was adapted by a woman from a story by a woman, directed by a woman, and was maybe enjoyed by a woman somewhere. I can’t say it was bad or that I didn’t like it, but for my manly-man tastes is seemed very mannered, and very soft, with no sharp edges.
Long time bachelor Horace Meade returns to his mansion with his new bride Sybilla. He asks his butler to “take Mrs. Meade’s things up to her room.” Hunh? Horace gives her a tour of the mansion. He points out the many antiques, and Sybilla asks if his mother picked them out. He says, “Certainly not. My mother had atrocious taste.”
Next up is the lovely dining room which Horace decorated. Sybilla says “it is perfect. Just like I imagined it.” Horace says there is something she must tell her, but rather than being as articulate as usual, he fumbles his words. She bails him out by saying she understands that he has been self-sufficient for a long time, so she will abide by his rules. Yeah, I’m not sure that’s what he was struggling to say. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
He tells her his breakfast routine which is the exactly same every morning. She says, “You must always tell me exactly what you prefer, my darling. I don’t want to make any mistakes. Never.” Now that appeals to my manly-man taste.
His whole day is similarly regimented. Lunch at exactly 1 pm, and dinner at exactly 8 pm. Then the tour continues in his office. Sybilla surprises him with a new oak desk that she had delivered as a wedding gift. Horace does a fine job of appearing to like the desk, but also conveying that he is horrified by the gift, as pedestrian a waste of wood as his wife is.
Sybilla says, “I know how much you value your privacy. I will never come in here to interfere or bother. I promise you.” She declines his offer of wine saying, “It’s late. I think I’ll go up to my bedroom now.” Horace must tell her it is at the end of the hall on the right, because his tour oddly seemed to be putting that particular room off as long as possible. He says, “I happen to believe in separate rooms. I hope you understand.” Sybilla says, “Of course I do. You must always tell me how you prefer everything. I only want to please you.” Wait, are they sure this was written by a women, because it is sure starting to sound like a man’s fantasy.
Horace grows to be amazed at how “gentle and agreeable” Sybilla always is. Somehow this is suffocating to him. He offers to set her up with an apartment in the city, and give her a generous allowance. She says she is perfectly content living in the country with Horace. “You are my life now.” Somehow, this distresses him.
Finally, Horace can take this torture no more. He decides he must murder Sybilla, and high time, too. This does not go as planned and sets up a tension that exists for years until she dies of natural causes. After she has died, Horace can finally admit to himself that he loved her.
So, there are some good twists here, but we do end up with a sappy conclusion. As I said, the whole episode just feels “soft”. Maybe the setting — I’m guessing the 1910s — account for the gentleness and perfect, clipped elocution by Horace. Barbara Bel Geddes does an excellent job selling Sybilla’s obsequious, fawning dialogue without coming across as weak or submissive. I question whether she should maybe have shown a slight edge so we more seriously questioned her motives. But what do I know? Nobody is hiring me to write or direct a TV show, and I’m a dude!
Other Stuff:
- Hitchcock’s intros are always worth watching (unlike a certain keeper of crypts I could mention). This one is a standout as we get a murder before the credits.
I agree with “manly man” Don’s review but I am surprised that no one tries to figure out or go into Horace’s misanthropic mysogyny and presumed lifelong virginity. Agree that ending has no twist or sharp turns and is a letdown. (Was this episode what inspired Ira Levin’s idea for “The Stepford Wives”??)
Alfred Hitchcock was a genius. I think this was one of his best episodes. Sybilla acted more like a doting mother than Horace’s wife. He married Sybilla because he thought he could find a woman to be a perfect mother; or, in the alternative, he wanted to exact revenge against his mother in the form of Sybilla. Recall he said that his mother’s taste was atrocious, and she “managed” him. There is no indication that Horace and Sybilla slept in the same bed; thus, they were not married, and she could continue to be his mother. Sybilla loved him, and was willing to have a chaste marriage and please him. Horace, of course, is an immature selfish narrow-minded twit, who had no compassion for his lovely beautiful wife. Horace’s plasticity is shown by his refusal to sleep with such a perfect beautiful woman. Sybilla hoped that Horace would see that his severe egocentricities were immoral to the point of being evil. Indeed, Horace plotted kill his fine wife. (I think Alfred Hitchcock wanted a wife like Sybilla; don’t we all?) When Horace thought Sybilla knew Horace was trying to kill her, he began to care for her the way he would care for an ailing mother. I can see in the film that Horace seems to age, but Sybilla does not age. Sybilla’s patience with Horace is bearing a bit of fruit, as he notices her goodness and her “prettiness.” (Yes, she is pretty, isn’t she.) At Sybilla’s death, she succeeded in making Horace realize that he must love more than himself: he realized that she was a perfect “wife,” and he should have told that her he loved her. Her death was not in vain, as Horace was renewed. In my opinion, this was a great episode.
Take a shot every time she says ‘darling.’ You’ll be smashed before the halfway mark.