It all begins just as any of the traditional horror movie scenarios do: with the arrival of an ordinary observer in everyday life. Her name is Melanie Daniels, and beyond the comforts of her hyperactive San Francisco social existence is the longing of some untapped desire, a drive in her to pursue romantic interest through the thrilling nature of masquerade. When she encounters the fetching Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor) at a pet store in the early scenes of “The Birds,” the idea of simplified flirtation is a foreign concept; she engages him in conversation while pretending to be an employee helping him purchase love birds, as if hopeful that prolonged interactions will reveal mutual attraction. She is intoxicated by the chase – so much so, alas, that when Mitch reveals his true identity (and knowledge of her game), there is a moment where she lashes out in protest, not necessarily because she is caught in her web but because a mere man has seen through her scheme. And yet she does not take the discovery as any sort of enlightening reflection; it simply fuels her pursuit in other respects, culminating with her arrival in a small town where she hopes to deliver two love birds at his doorstep and ultimately acquire his affections with calculated precision. Even good deeds, they say, can be masks for shameless ulterior motives.
