Angela Devas, in her piece How to be a Hero: Space, Place and Masculinity in ‘The 39 Steps’, “articulates the characteristics necessary to become a filmic hero” through an examination of Richard Hannay and his actions.

Devas argues that Hannay is, from the beginning of the film, established as a masculine hero. When the audience first is introduced to him in the music hall during Mr. Memory’s first performance, he stands out from the crowd as well dressed, handsome and tall. His question “How far is Winnipeg from Montreal?” immediately identifies him as an outsider, a wanderer. This disconnection from place is reinforced with his relationship to his apartment. Devas notes that he is “living in a borrowed flat” and, more importantly, “his name. . . is not engraved on the front entrance” but rather scrawled on a piece of paper. His lack of connection with the domestic environment is evidence of his independent masculinity. This masculinity is repeated in his displays of physical prowess, most notably when he escapes from the train on the bridge to Scotland. His daring flight, in which he perches perilously from the girder of the gigantic bridge, illuminates his capacity not only as a physical specimen of masculinity but also as capable of dominating nature and his environment. In becoming a part of the bridge, Hannay connects with its power over the landscape and the audience is again led to a realization of Hannay’s masculine power and domination.

Devas’ piece sheds light on Hannay’s role as a masculine hero in The 39 Steps. Not only is he the savior of state secrets and the love interest of the beautiful Pamela, he represents an ultimate image of filmic masculinity and herodom.

In his book Hitchcock: The Murderous Gaze, William Rothman includes a fascinating chapter on The Thirty-nine Steps in which he elucidates the identity of the protagonist Richard Hannay. Rothman argues that Hannay is “exempt from having a self” and this lack of identity enables him to “face death without anguish” as he is free of any responsibility. It is his identity as a wanderer without an identity that gives him the freedom to pursue  the mystery of Annabelle’s death and the concurrent plot.

Rothman argues that Hannay’s trip to Scotland is neither a “spiritual journey or a rite of passage.” He asserts that Hannay would not engage in a struggle for selfhood because “he is exempt from having a self.” From the first time the audience is introduced to Hannay in the theatre, he is marked as a n outsider and “outside the rigid system” by which we judge the other members of Mr. Memory’s audience. This transcendence of the limitations by which other characters hold to and are judged places Hannay in a totally different sphere. Rothman argues that this is a place where Hannay is “not a character.” His lack of identification through comparison with others combined with his easy acquiescence to Annabelle and willingness to help leave no way to clearly identify his character, Rothman argues. He is simply “reacting within a situation in which he is no more the author than we.” Hannay is a wandering force who happens to be drawn into this scenario and has the capability to see it through.

William Rothman’s chapter on The Thirty-nine Steps presents a unique perspective on the character of Richard Hannay. Rothman argues that because he has no explicable identity within the film, Hannay has the freedom to run off at a moments notice and defend the secrets of his country. It is only within this construct that his actions can be explained.

In Beyond Bond: Spies in Fiction and Film, Wesley Britton offers his opinion on the character of Richard Hannay as he relates to the beginnings of an interest in spy stories in general. Britton notes Hannay as an “unimportant archetype” in the historical development of spy novels and films.

Like many other writers, Britton recognizes the Hannay as the amateur hero. Unlike many other spy characters of the time, the Richard Hannay from The 39 Steps has no formal training in the art of espionage – he is an everyman who comes to foil an international plot against his country. This is not to say that he is not at an advantage – his lack of responsibilites or ties to his domestic space allow him the freedom to take on this new burden but the fact remains that he stands out by way of his lack of training. Interestingly, Britton notes that in Buchman’s later writings, Hannay becomes skilled, trained by “natives in South Africa.” This shift in Hannay’s character brings him more into line with the likes of James Bond. As the spy genre develops, it becomes necessary to sensationalize his character in a way that was absent from Buchman’s writing of the The 39 Steps and Hitchcock’s adaptation. It would seem that Hitchcock prefers the amateur spy, for even as Hannay develops, Hitchcock prefers to still portray an everyman surmounting fantastic obstacles, such as Roger Thornhill in North by Northwest.

Wesley Britton’s explanation of the development of spy characters allows us to illuminate Richard Hannay in the context of the general development of the genre. In doing so, we also reveal Hitchcock’s preference toward the amateur hero rather than the polished secret agent that was beginning to come into vogue. 

In his book Everything you Always Wanted to Know about Lacan: But Were Afraid to ask Hitchcock, Slavoj Zizek comments on the pre-established harmony between Hannay and Pamela. Zizek argues that English films of the late 1930s (of which The 39 Steps is a member) aimed to fit within the confines of the classic narrative, and consequently that their plot was only useful as a device to bring the protagonist and his female interest to a successful conclusion.

Zizek has found that English films of the late 1930’s seem bound to “Oedipal story of the couple’s initiatory journey,” a classic narrative of two people bound by fate to fall in love with one another. The couples of these films are bound by fate or, in the case of The 39 Steps, a pair of steel handcuffs and mature together through a series of ordeals towards the “fundamental motif of the bourgeois ideology of marriage.” This fundamental motif is played out in The 39 Steps as Pamela and Hannay are first bound together against their will and then, as they overcome obstacles together, become closer to each other. Just as Hitchcock has given us the stereotype of masculinity and painted a picture of the strong, dominant man, so has he shown us the classical ideal of two unwilling people coming together through a period of uncertainly and trials.

Slavoj Zizek’s comments on the stereotype of the relationship between Pamela and Hannay strike a chord next to the classical portrayal of Hannay as a dominant male. In appropriate fashion, the classic man has fallen into the classic, stereotypical “bourgeois ideology of marriage.”

In his book Male Myths and Icons, Roger Horrock makes mention of Alfred Hitchcock and his portrayal of masculine figures in a number of his films. Interestingly, Horrock is of the opinion that Hitchcock does not elevate the masculine figure in these pieces – rather he writes that Hitchcock’s primary interest lies in the exposure of “male perversity.”

While Horrock notes that women “are the victims in Hitchcock films” rather than men, he does not use this as evidence for a dominant, strong male stereotype. Rather, Horrock notes the psycotic flaws Hitchcock introduces in many of his amle characters. Vertigo concerns itself with necrophilia, Frenzy with rape and the well-known Psycho with psychosis. This image of man as a flawed and dangerous character suggests that it would be “farcical to suggest that Hitchcock simply permits. . .an uncomplicated identification” of his male protagonists as the relatable, stereotypical male role. Rather, Hitchcock attempts to reveal the darker perversity of men. Although they retain their power, especially over women, it is of important note that these characters are not idyllic emblems of masculinity as is seen in The 39 Steps. Hitchcock is interested in and has the capacity too expose a perversity of the male psyche through a number of his later films.

Unlike The 39 Steps, other works of Hitchcock have exposed a flawed and disruptive male character. Roger Horrock exposes this trend, revealing Hitchcock’s ability and desire to show men as morally and socially perverse, disrupting the masculine stereotype applied so flawlessly in The 39 Steps.

In Robin Wood’s Hitchcock’s Films Revisited, she comments on the Richard Hannay’s “particular version of masculinity” as she illuminates the psychoanalytic subtext in his behaviour. By examing his interactions with ‘the Father,’ the bullet and his pipe, Wood explores the Freudian implications of his props and discusses how they reflect on his masculinity.

In his encounter with the clergyman on the Flying Scotsman, Wood notes that he avoids identification and thus ‘castration’ or the loss of his masculinity. Were the clergyman to identify him, as the audience suspects he may in the film, Hannay would be stripped of his power of shrouded identity, just as he would lose his identity through castration. In the same way, he is saved from the bullet by Margaret’s inadvertent gift of the hymnbook. This reinforces his role as the dominant man who keeps his woman in a helpful, subservient role. His masculinity is reinforced by her, if even inadvertent, subservient help. Wood uses these examples to support the masculinity of Hannay’s actions. She questions, however, his use of the distinctly benign pipe as a gun in order to intimidate Pamela. Because Pamela never sees the pipe, she assumes it as a gun when Hannay presents it as such through his dialogue. To see it through Freud’s eyes, this prop is somewhat phallic and, when it turns out to be an innocuous pipe rather than a powerful gun, it affects the audience’s view of Hannay’s masculinity negatively. The discovery of Hannay’s presentation of the powerless pipe as something more potent is seriously emasculating for the hero.

By examining Hannay’s behaviour in Freudian light, Robin Wood gives us a new and unique perspective on the portrayal of Hannay’s masculinity in The 39 Steps.

In Warriors in Flight: John Buchan’s War Novels, Maria Noelle Ng explores John Buchan’s novel The 39 Steps on which Hitchcock’s film is based. She discusses the novel’s ‘hero-on-the-run’ subgenre and how it affects both the narrative arc of the story and the reader’s sympathies towards the character of Hannay. Although Hitchcock adapted Buchan’s story, these assertions hold true for the Hannay of Hitchcock’s film as well.

             Ng argues that upon the death of Annabelle (or Buchan’s original Scudder), Hannay becomes the archetypal ‘hero-on-the run,’ the masculine cruasader pursued by enemies known and unknown.  She notes that this role serves a dual purpose: both to drive the plot forward and to engage the sympathy of the reader. Hannay’s brazen pursuit of a relatively new and personally insignificant event highlights his masculine drive and allows the narrative arc to continue. As the reader (and later audience) is exposed to his genuine pursuit of what he ascertains to be in the best interest of his country. This selflessness easily employs the sympathy of the reader. Ng goes on to elaborate on the significance of the story to World War I. Published in 1915, Ng argues that “Although the Great War is not explicitly mentioned” it is an underlying assumption of the novel and “reflects the attitude of the British at the beginning of the war.”

Ng’s piece, although focused on Buchan’s novel, examines the character of Hannay and the timing of the book in an interesting way. She illuminates how his masculinity supports the narrative arc as well as his easy procurment of reader sympathies. This character and his story, Ng argues, are an implied component of the First World War.

Loy, R. Philip. “Friendly Neighbors All Around.” Westerns and American Culture, 1930-1955. Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2001. 121-151.

            In his essay, Loy focuses primarily on the B westerns which typically define the genre, and as stated in his title, these westerns generally present a positive view of the community, with High Noon as “a dramatic departure from the typical B western” (126). As many sources emphasize, the townspeople in westerns were generally marginalized, with the plot focusing mainly on the hero and villain. While accepting this viewpoint, Loy brings up multiple instances of when towns band together, especially in the form of “community associations” (127), which were essentially posses. Although Loy emphasizes how B westerns focused on community, he still acknowledges that “bigger-budget westerns [High Noon included]… were films most likely to focus on the individualist aspect of American beliefs” (148).

Notably, although the townspeople now refuse to stand behind Kane, when Frank Miller was first arrested five years before, it was by Kane along with a large posse, implying a shift in the town’s attitude. It is hardly a stretch of the imagination to think back little over five years before High Noon was released to WWII, which represents for many the pinnacle of American unity. Foreman could therefore be drawing a contrast to a previous stand against fascism and oppression five years before, but a current unwillingness by the townspeople, and implicitly the American people, to stand against a new injustice. By showing how typical westerns featured a supportive town, Loy’s essay brings the townspeople’s cowardly behavior into even starker relief. At the same time, the individualist attitudes of bigger-budget westerns allow for the independence and non-conformist attitude displayed by Kane. Therefore, it is only Kane’s “big-budget” individualism that allows him to overcome the constraints of the unsupportive community.

Drummond, Phillip. “Meanings.” High Noon. London: British Film Institute, 1997. 63-81.

             Drummond’s chapter on the meanings of High Noon has 5 sections, but only two are particularly relevant to the argument: “Social Allegories” and “Sexual Politics.” Rather than taking his own stances, Drummond compiles the thoughts of other critics of High Noon in his essay. “Social Allegories” therefore features a number of critics’ viewpoints, most of whom analyze the film “less as a contribution to the western genre than in its meaning as a film about the post-war years, as a drama about American society in its national and international relationships” (69). Although the HUAC is never mentioned, Drummond includes views regarding High Noon as a metaphor for domestic left-right conflicts, US-Communist relations (especially regarding Korea), and politician’s foreign policies. “Sexual Politics” also includes other critics’ views, which emphasize the idea of masculinity and Kane’s individualism.

            Despite the omission of the HUAC connection, “Social Allegories” still has relevance as part of High Noon’s commentary on postwar America as a whole, since the HUAC was only an example of the general anti-communist paranoia gripping America at the time. Critics saw that “High Noon denounces notions of consensus,” which emphasizes how the film attacked the community as a monolithic, passive bloc. “Sexual Politics” focuses on how High Noon portrays the men of the town as alternatively craven, fearful, and generally not fitting in with the brave, masculine male of the stereotypical western. By portraying the townspeople as cowardly, Foreman shows his clear contempt for those in Hollywood who sided with the HUAC or refused to oppose it out of fear of damage to their careers. Kane, too, is hardly the classic masculine hero, but his mental trials serve to increase the sense of pathos in the film, and helps provide an on-screen representation of the anguish that Foreman surely felt before testifying before the HUAC.

            In this comprehensive article, Robert Beuka looks at Mike Nichols’ The Graduate in the context of the expanding suburban landscape of the 1950s and 1960s.  He addresses The Graduate as a coming of age film in which Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman) is faced with the challenges of growing up and becoming a man in an increasingly materialistic world.  Benjamin’s fear of entering this world is both explicitly and implicitly referred to from the opening scene until the conclusion of the film.  The title of this article, “Just One World… ‘PLASTICS’” alludes to the piece of advice that Benjamin’s father’s friend, Mr. McGuire, imposes upon Benjamin in the very beginning of the film and, according to Beuka, serves as an “apt metaphor for the very lifestyle Ben fears he may be on the verge of entering.”  Beuka asserts that Benjamin represents the entire generation of young males facing adulthood in this highly materialistic and contrived environment of upper middle class suburbia.  Plastic is highly representative of the empty and superficial nature of this suburban lifestyle, as is the recurring use of the swimming pool, which not only illustrates materialism, but also symbolizes the “self-destructive narcissism of the suburban dream.”  Beuka also focuses on the issue of masculinity and the theme of suburban emasculation.  The insecurity inherent in the image of the utopian patriarchal family led to a repressive role for adult males, who were trapped in an almost childlike state.  It is this predetermined role and “plastic” lifestyle, which Benjamin sees his father living, that he fears most. 

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In this article, Bromseth discusses his research into 2 Norwegian email lists: Radical Forum (a socialist/Marxist forum) and The Doctor's List (a forum for general practitioners) in which the membership was divided approximately 85% men and 15% women.  While the political group tended towards confrontational discussion and raw polemic, the medical forum was characterized by face-saving strategies and an emphasis on "brotherhood".  Bromseth argues that the latter behavior should not be seen as "feminization" of male speech, but rather as an example of positive and definitively male social practices in modern (2001) Norway.  To him, gender is constantly being constructed in relation to other social phenomena and contexts must always be examined independently to show such construction without stereotyping behavior.  This argument runs in counter to the generally accepted thoughts towards men's speech and should definitely be considered as a reminder to readers to not make generalized assumptions based upon previous theories, but instead, to take into account mitigating cultural and social factors when analyzing any speech community.

This book chapter examines the masculine styles and posturing in Tarantino's films. Because Tarantino has created a world of characters who are violent, sensitive, and cool, this investigation into the types of men in Tarantino's work serves as an overview work for this topic.