Alex Cross Evinces the Fact

¶ … Alex Cross evinces the fact that this psychological thriller adheres to many of the conventions previously denoted by Alfred Hitchcock and his work as indicative of this genre of film. This particular film utilizes elements of characterization and narrative strategies that are reminiscent of Hitchcock to create an element of suspense and intrigue that effectively conditions the audience to wait (Truffaut 92) for the expected -- and unexpected.

In this sense, the film is a classic detective/police officer story in which the audience experiences a series of juxtapositions that elucidate various aspects of the characters, particularly that of the protagonist, Alex Cross. Although the film certainly utilizes a number of modern conventions such as fairly gratuitous amounts of sex and violence, its reliance upon characterization and narrative elements that are discernibly descended from Hitchcock and his films sufficiently moves the plot and renders this film another in a long line of suspense films.

There is a definite dichotomy between the titular character and the principle protagonist, Picasso, which the plot primarily revolves around. As such, the turning point of this film -- which is about a mercenary who is hired to kill corporate leaders while inadvertently attracting the police attention of Cross and his team (Sharkey) -- presents classic images of juxtaposition between Cross and Picasso. As is typically the case in most Hitchcock films, the two men and their morality (or lack thereof) are defined by their occupations.

As a police officer, Cross is undeniably virtuous, a father and doting husband and the very personification of the law that upholds the mores of the country itself. Picasso, as a hired mercenary, is an isolated psychopath, prone to rendering stark images of his victims both before and after death.

The former's love and family, evinced in a sense when he discovers his wife's pregnancy and interacts with his loving grandmother and daughter, is wonderfully contrasted with the latter's stark solitariness and brooding nature befitting of his craft as a hired hit man. Cross has everything that Picasso does not: this fact is evinced during an intimate dinner that the officer shares with his wife which is juxtaposed with images of Picasso, alone, readying to snipe them.

The two talk on the phone, after which Picasso fatally shoots Cross' wife, producing a reaction that will substantially affect the nature of the characterization of Cross for the remainder of the film. A distinctive Hitchcock element of characterization is the subversion of the principles that a character represents and believes in. This element of subversion takes place quite dramatically within Cross after his wife dies.

From that point on in the movie, the morally upstanding police officer is willing to go to any length to punish Picasso -- even if in doing so, he essentially becomes as much of a lawbreaker as the antagonist. Cross has no compunction against breaking and entering, tampering with police evidence, torturing victims (such as the narcotics supplier who indirectly assisted Picasso), and essentially abandoning the once close, familial relationship of love he enjoyed with the rest of his family.

This facet of the plot of this movie is quintessential Hitchcock, due to the fact that Cross's character subversion of his traditional values is a reaction to something. It is also important to note that Cross's subversion is characterized by his actions, and not through his speech. Essentially, the subversion of Cross's characterization adheres to a common motif found in works descended from Hitchcock -- that of the debauchery of a previously pure character.

It is also noteworthy to mention that this facet of Cross's character, which initially represents the ideological counterpoint to that of Picasso, is demonstrated throughout various narrative strategies that are also distinctive of Hitchcock's psychological thriller. True to Hitchcock form, Alex Cross begins with a MacGuffin -- something that the characters on the screen are concerned with but which the audience does not necessarily care about (Lowe).

The MacGuffin employed within this film is demonstrated by Cross's jailhouse visit to a young girl who is imprisoned for a crime that she did not commit -- the shooting of a pair of men. This part of the movie has little intrinsic value for the movie as a whole, yet is responsible for setting the events in motion that result in Cross's character's subversion.

In fact, Cross's jailhouse visits actually aid him in his subversive attempts to destroy Picasso by illicit means when the former breaks into his own police department and steals the one piece of evidence that can free the imprisoned girl and dispel any criminal wrongdoing on the part of her uncle in exchange for her uncle's help in locating Picasso.

The fact that the girl's uncle is a criminal, and that Cross is working to both help free him from any wrongdoing as well as to illicitly kill Picasso, demonstrates just how profound his subversion is. Virtually all of Hitchcock's masterful thriller's end fairly abruptly with a degree of ambiguity that leaves audiences unsure how to feel about the character transformations and the events that took place in them.

They also contain a recapitulation in which the protagonist is questioned by others, usually in the form of some sort of trial (be it a literal or a figurative one). All of these conventions are evinced within Alex Cross. The police officer's vigilante justice is roundly questioned by his grandmother, who believes that his intentions are mislead and will bring about his own ruin, and should be directed towards helping his surviving family instead.

The ultimate trial for Cross in this film, however, is his final scene with Picasso when the two battle to the death. The moral ambiguity that characterizes many of Hitchcock's movies is demonstrated within this scene due to the fact that, as Picasso hangs on the precipice of death and Cross's victory appears imminent, the latter proclaims "I made you"(Alex Cross) before plunging to his doom.

Picasso's statement reveals the fact that although Cross has killed his antagonist, he has become frighteningly like him -- a murderer -- which leaves the audience wondering as to the moral rectitude of the film's ending. The deployment of Picasso throughout this film also sets up principle points of comparison with traditional conventions of Hitchcock's psychological thrillers. The strong, brooding intensity.