The great American master of suspense Sir Alfred Hitchcock tried his hand twice at solving not police mysteries, but psychoanalytic ones: first in “Spellbound” and later in “Marnie”.
“Spellbound”, released in 1945, stars Gregory Peck and Ingrid Bergman in the leading roles. Constance Petersen (played by Ingrid Bergman) is a talented psychoanalyst, though resolutely detached from human passions, working in a psychiatric institution run by Dr. Murchison. Having been forced into early retirement, Murchison is to be replaced by Dr. Anthony Edwardes (Gregory Peck). The new director, who seems far too young for the position, soon reveals himself to be amnesiac, unaware even of his own identity, and is quickly suspected of having murdered the real Dr. Edwardes. Constance falls in love with this man without a past or a future, known only by the initials J.B., and attempts to uncover the origins of his trauma and what truly happened to Dr. Edwardes.
“Marnie”, released in 1964, stars Sean Connery and Tippi Hedren. Marnie (Tippi Hedren) is a beautiful, elegant young woman, but above all, a professional thief who steals the cash reserves of the companies that employ her. Despite her changes in appearance between jobs – and therefore between robberies – her new employer Mark (Sean Connery) recognizes her but allows her to commit her crime. He tracks her down and offers her a strange bargain: marry him, or face the police. With no other choice, Marnie accepts the marriage, which quickly turns into a nightmare. Although Mark is in love with her, the feeling is not mutual: Marnie proves frigid and plagued by obsessive and phobic behaviors. Mark, suspecting that his wife’s condition stems from childhood trauma, takes it upon himself to investigate.
Both films are characterized by the predominance and agency of a figure who takes on the role of savior – under the guise of love. In “Spellbound”, it is a woman as Constance seeks to save J.B. In “Marnie”, it is a man as Mark seeks to save Marnie.
They are far more proactive than the object of their love: J.B. is quite ready to flee alone and vanish into the night, while Marnie desires nothing more than to perpetuate her modus operandi – kleptomania, frigidity, obsession, and phobia – without asking questions to herself. In both cases, it is the savior who takes active steps to block the escape.
A contemporary viewer, however, may question the strength of a relationship born out of a savior-victim dynamic.
One might even suspect that Hitchcock himself questioned the validity of such dynamics, for they may be less about altruistic love than about possession and control.
If I had used the device of interior monologue, you would have heard Sean Connery saying to himself: “I wish she would hurry up and commit another theft so that I can catch her red-handed and finally possess her. (…) We would have filmed Marnie from Mark’s point of view, and we would have shown his satisfaction when he sees the girl commit her theft.”
Alfred Hitchcock to François Truffaut
A contemporary viewer may also wonder about the durability of a relationship founded on a savior–victim dynamic, especially once the victim is freed from trauma. Hitchcock leaves the question unanswered, and we never see either couple live happily ever after.
As noted, in both films the saviors act forcefully to block the escape. Constance pursues J.B. to New York after his flight and insists he undergo therapy to cure his amnesia. The English title, “Spellbound”, literally meaning “enchanted” or “bewitched” may hint at this dynamic: J.B.’s dazed, detached behavior suggests that he is the one truly bewitched by Constance’s agency.
Mark, for his part, not only imposes marriage on Marnie but goes further: he rapes her in a disturbing (though typically Hitchcockian, off-screen) scene that leads to a suicide attempt. The sequence created a conflict with his screenwriter, who refused to write it, arguing that it would destroy any sympathy for Mark, the supposed hero but also a rapist. Hitchcock, who likely wanted to avoid the monolithic portrayal of a flawless hero and instead depict a dysfunctional, fetishistic, objectifying relationship, simply dismissed his writer.
Hitchcock revisits themes dear to him – identity and sexuality – both of which resonate strongly with the Freudian motifs he draws upon in these two films.
Identity lies at the heart of both plots: J.B. does not know who he is, while Marnie constantly disguises herself, adopting false identities. Sexuality, meanwhile, lies at the core of both relationships: at the beginning of “Spellbound”, Constance is seen as cold, detached, incapable of understanding romantic or sexual passion, but she becomes, through her attraction to J.B., the “healthy” counterpart to the nymphomaniac she treats in the opening scene. Marnie, for her part, struggles with sexuality: she is frigid, harboring deep hatred for men, and eventually raped by Mark – who likely believes the violent act will “unlock” her.
The two themes – identity and sexuality – are closely intertwined, almost interdependent, in both films. J.B. recovers his identity only through the romantic and sexual relationship he develops with Constance. Marnie, by contrast, has lost her true identity due to an early sexual trauma, surviving instead under multiple false and frigid personas.
These issues of identity and sexuality are simplified to an extreme by Hitchcock, who relied on Freudian theories that are now considered outdated, even wholly inaccurate. In “Spellbound”, the psychoanalytic element is represented in a dream sequence designed by Salvador Dalí; in “Marnie”, it is embodied by the color red.
Even though Hitchcock’s grasp of psychoanalytic mechanisms is today completely obsolete, both films remain fascinating – provided the viewer is clear-eyed enough not to mistake them for charming love stories, but rather to recognize them as depictions of objectifying relationships in both cases.
Editor’s note: Here I am, standing in and in front of the central headquarters of the French bank Société Générale, which boasts an impressive vault room. When I think of Marnie, I always think of that massive Fichet door protecting a wonderfully preserved vault.
As a little historical tidbit, the building housing Société Générale’s headquarters was constructed during the Second Empire era in such a way that it could be converted into a department store if the company that moved in didn’t meet its financial expectations (Société Générale didn’t actually move in until 1906) – it’s located right across from the Galeries Lafayette department store. Entry is free and open to the public, and photography is prohibited – but I took some anyway; I know it’s bad but it’s just too beautiful.
Let’s go outside.
Max Mara coat – Vintage skirt and jumper from the 60s’ – Dior handbag – Armani heels – Lafont sunglasses – Ancient pair of gloves from Marcel & Jeannette
January 30, 2026
