The Woman Who Drank Too Much: Visual Metaphor in "Notorious"

In Alfred Hitchcock's Notorious (1946), the use of objects contributes significantly to how the narrative structures the presentation of events. These objects are manipulated by camera work to make them complex reflections of character dynamics. Since virtually every scene shows one or more characters drinking, bottles and glasses become simple props which hold great significance. In particular, the drinking of Alicia Huberman is a visual metaphor that changes in meaning throughout the film. At first it is emblematic of her promiscuity, then of her relationship with Devlin, and finally, of the poisonous influence of the Nazi ring. In effect, drinking vessels, along with the act of drinking itself, are mise-en-scene representations of Alicia's political and sexual purification.

Even before the glass motif is introduced, the element of voyeurism is established by two camera shots: a close up on a detective whose been told to watch and make sure Alicia doesn't leave town, and a dissolve into the interior of her home. Making us voyeurs like this has the effect of suggesting that Alicia is an object of curiosity and intrigue. But the objectification of Alicia as a sexual being is especially apparent when she is shot from behind Devlin's back, casting him in the role of male viewer and critic. And it is important to note that during this rather long take, she is engaged in the business of fixing guests drinks, only pausing to drop flirtatious comments on Devlin. For Alicia, sharing liquor is linked to sharing sexual desire. Immediately, then, the film implies the insatiability of her appetites. In other words, she thirsts for physical gratification; both from Devlin and the bottle. She is notorious both as a female and an alcoholic.

On the other hand, Devlin sees Alicia first and foremost as an instrument of the law. He is a federal agent whose primary interest in her concerns patriotism and espionage. Through Alicia, Devlin seeks to punish aberration--political and sexual. Love is not a priority to  him, as demonstrated by his prideful willingness to subject Alicia to danger despite his feelings of desire. As representative of both American ideals and masculine power, Devlin is the normalizing influence in the film. It is he who must purge Alicia of her impurities: the taint of being a traitor's daughter as well as the impropriety of her overt sexuality. This is accomplished partially through the act of drinking.

After Alicia's night of overindulgence and drunk driving, the scene opens with a close-up of her face, hidden behind a tall glass of cloudy liquid. It is immediately followed by an upside down point of view shot showing Devlin looming large in shadow, sternly instructing her to "Drink it." This mystery substance is as unclear as his intentions, since he has yet to announce the impending spy mission. And waht appears to be a cure for a hangover is really much more. It is the symbolic acceptance of Devlin's correctional authority and control, and the abandonment of her unconventional (and therefore unacceptable) promiscuity. Alicia's aversion to the sobering effects of the potion is evident in her sour face and groans. Devlin is cleansing her of her sins, but there is also something twisted about this act of repression. Indeed, he is wittingly being ironice in asking her, "Feel better?" since she is obviously in physical and emotional distress. The viewer cannot help but intensely identify with Alicia when Devlin so thoroughly enjoys his sadistic, sardonic treatment of her. 

Such brutal treatment continues when the two are drinking at a cafe in Rio. Here, glasses and a large bottle appear throughout the entire sequence of shot/reverse shots. The beginning of their conversation concerns the arrangements for Alicia's apartment, and sharing a drink becomes a seal to their business contract. But when Alicia (at first) refuses a second drink, she is demonstrating her new found purity--at least, eight days' worth--and a desire to "change her spots." Then the dialogue turns to the topic of their relationship, and whether Alicia can quit her wild ways in favor of "daisies and buttercups." But Alicia's advances are answered only by Devlin's biting sarcasm, and she orders a whiskey and soda to ease her hurt feelings. Apparently, alcohol is her release--a part of her emotionality. Drinking and desiring are coupled in Alicia's mind, and if she she can't have Devlin, at least she can have a double. And when she pleads with him to have faith in her ("Why won't you believe in me? Just a little?"), he only responds by eyeing her suspiciously and sipping his own drink. It is as if by refusing to swallow heavily, he is refusing to "swallow" her claims of self-renewal and purity.

Despite Devlin's initial coolness, he soon becomes equally enamored of Alicia. When he asks whether he should bring anything back for dinner, she responds, "How about a nice bottle of wine? To celebrate." Here again, Alicia is investing her emotional energies in alcohol. Only now, though, does the bottle itself become an icon of their new love. Before Devlin reciprocated Alicia's desire, there was no such concrete symbol, only scattered glasses here and there. The implication, of course, is that the proper, masculine figure now approves of Alicia's appetite(s), so only now is it appropriate to celebrate with champagne. Moreover, the very phallic-shaped bottle is quite telling--the perfect representation of male sexual desire.

Further evidence for this interpretation can be found in the scene following Alicia and Devlin's balcony kiss. It begins with a close-up of the bottle, as if to remind us that Notorious is really a love story, though of course it is primarily a spy story. After all, the scene takes place at the American embassy; the dialogue is strictly business. And the scene ends with an eyeline match: the chief agent looking at Devlin's forgotten champagne, realizing that Devlin has become more than professionally involved. This is the ultimate MacGuffin, suggesting that the film is about domestic desire, not international politics. We are left with the image of the bottle (the potential celebration of their relationship) and thus shown that the relationship has failed.

The next scene begins with a dissolve from the champagne to Devlin himself, walking back into Alicia's apartment after the meeting at headquarters. At this point, he has learned of the exact nature of Alicia's assignment--that she must seduce Sebastian to infiltrate the German group. Jealous and angry, he is no completely disenamored of her, having been reminded of precisely why she is notorious. In such a context, then, the bottle-Devlin dissolve which introduces the scene is highly significant. It suggests that he is no longer playing the role of the lover, having left behind both the bottle and any feelings of passion. Instead, he is once again the no-nonsense cop, with his attention focused solely on Alicia's mission. And despite it being visually absent, the champagne still plays a part in the scene. Devlin refers to it as the scene closes, saying, "I must have left it somewhere," With this, he is essentially admits having forgotten all about his feelings of love for Alicia. the possibility of making liquid the emblem of their desire has totally slipped away.

In the second half of the film, objects such as bottles and glasses become even more consequential. On her very first visit to the Sebastian household, a bungling display by the Germans provides Alicia with an essential clue. At this point, HItchcock's visual techniques are especially insightful. An eyeline match from Alicia followed by a tracking shot onto a trio of bottles accomplishes two things: it hints at the love triangle that is Alicia, Alex, and Devlin. It also shows, wordlessly, that Alicia realizes the bottle may contain something besides wind. Here, then, is the point in Notorious at which the visual metaphor of drinking changes dramatically. In effect, the imagery of bottles has turned sinister, hinting that the act of drinking could be dangerous, even deadly. In the hands of Devlin, a bottle was benign depiction of his desire, and one Alicia was eager to drink down. Not it is malignant poison that, like Alex, she must ingest before she can be free of it and return purified to Devlin.

A bit later in the film, Alicia (now Mrs. Sebastian) hosts a party at which bottles and glasses are immensely important. The scene is wrought with suspense as she and Devlin try to calculate how long before the champagne is gone, and Alex sends Joseph to the wine cellar to get more. Alicia and Devlin must get into the Sebastian basement to the investigate the mysterious bottles before either the liquor runs out, or Alex discovers his key is missing. Several brief low-angle shots are filmed from beneath the tiny champagne glasses, to emphasize their magnitude in spite of their diminutive size. And every few moments, a close-up of the stock of bottles imparts the viewer with a sense of dread, and impending doom. Indeed, the audience forgets about everything going on in the film and concentrates on the bottles alone, willing Alicia and Devlin to hurry.

In this scene, then, the dozens of bottles represent so many hour glasses. Each drop of liquid is a grain of sand working against Alicia and Devlin. Time is of the essence, and what once seemed plentiful is sleeping quickly through their fingers. In an ironic cameo, Hitchcock helps along this tension-filled scenario. He appears as a guest happily tossing back a glass of champagne--exactly the sort of guest Alicia doesn't need at her party. Bottles are now an essential part of the plot rather than a reflection of the psychology of Devlin and Alicia.

A few minutes later, the two sneak into a wine cellar. Devlin accidentally knocks off of the bottles on the shelf, and they finally discover the secret ingredient: uranium ore. In terms of the use of objects, this is perhaps the most climactic part of the film. It is here that the lighthearted liquids of earlier scenes (whiskey, wine, champagne) have been replaced by a much more somber spirit--a deadly one, in fact. Alicia is now forced to recognize the gravity of the situation, ultimately stemming from a seemingly simple bottle. No longer the laughing, drunk, and promiscuous Alicia Huberman, she is undergoing an extremely dangerous (and sobering) act of purification. And the bottle has become the vehicle of this purification. Furthermore, since breaking glass is traditionally an act of celebration (consider weddings and the christening of ships), the smashed bottle becomes a perversion of a typically auspicious image. It is instead a foreboding omen that anticipates the dangers to come.

As Devlin scoops the evidence into a tiny envelope, he directs Alicia to find a matching bottle to replace the missing one. She responds with, "They all look alike to me." Literally, she is speaking of the wine bottles. But as we've already seen how bottles in the film represent male sexuality, it seems that she is saying something much more noteworthy. Namely that all men seem alike to her. For every man in Alicia's life has disappointed her in some way: her father, Alex, and now Devlin. Thus, bottles have become the vehicle of her frustration; they contain all that is distasteful about male emotionality. And, like the granules of "vintage sand" that escape down the cellar's drain, this, too, will slip away. The poisonous, "improper" masculinity she's been exposed to will disappear and Devlin will become the "proper" source of masculinity in her life.

The final part of Notorious sees yet another change in the visual representation of drinking vessels. Having discovered the true identity of his wife, Alex teams up with his mother to punish Alicia. Their method, of course, is to poison her coffee. That coffee be the liquid of choice is an interesting metaphorical twist. Typically the cure to a hangover, coffee is more or less an antidote to the toxic effects of alcohol; in this instance, though, it is a poison far more potent than liquor. What is most significant, however, is how basic props such as cups and saucers are depicted as if through special effects. Low-angle shots make the cups appear massive, and larger than Alicia herself. Another take has the camera tracking from Alex to Alicia drinking, and finally to Mrs. Sebastian--the deadly trail of treachery spelled out with a single shot.

Perhaps most noticeable, however, is the manipulation of mise-en-scene in this sequence. Ornately engraved chairs resemble the highly detailed silver of the tea pots, and are oversized to dwarf the characters, Alice In Wonderland style. Indeed, Alicia is in a wonderland here, complete with a tea party and drug-induced hallucinations. All of these are intimidating camera effects intensely our identification with Alicia, and visually capture the "Bluebeard" myth of the film. Having married under false pretenses--and become the object of transference--she has rightly so, to fear harm from her husband.

Ultimately, of course, this is exactly the course of events that must occur before Alicia can be with Devlin. She must be purged of both her and her father's sins, and purified of promiscuity, alcoholism, and Nazism before she can be embraced by the correct man. Drinking is essentially the vehicle for this progression to purity. Hitchcock is truly masterful at manipulating this metaphor with the use of simple objects such as glasses, bottles, and cups. It is through his directorial eye that we see Alicia's path to righteousness in society and love.