Best of the Letter R: Rear Window (1954)

I already once did a review on Rear Window.  That original review can be found by clicking here.

I'll summarize this way: Rear Window is my favorite Alfred Hitchcock film, and I am the world's biggest Hitchcock fan.  It has great character development, great attention to detail, and simply fun dialogue.  And underneath everything is a great running discussion on human relationships.

This is a must-see for any movie fan, a film that starts lighthearted and slowly builds up the suspense.  The result is magnificent!

(the following rating is a bit different than my original review.)
Entertainment: 9/10
Artistic value: 9/10
Technical merit: 9/10

Overall: 9.5/10

Runners Up for the Letter "R:"

• Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)
• Ran (1985)
• Rebecca (1940)
• Rocky (1976)
• Robocop (1987) -yes, I'm serious.  Robocop rules.
• Raging Bull (1980)

Best of the Letter "N:" North By Northwest (1959)

I am a huge Alfred Hitchcock fan.  I've loved his ability to do things no one else had done before, invent new techniques, and tease out action and drama into true suspense that continues to build.

North By Northwest is Hitchcock's most fun and entertaining film, full of twists and turns and great action.  It also captures perfectly the style of the great director toward the end of his career, when he was able to bring a world of experience into full effect and create some of his most timeless masterpieces.  It also happens to be my favorite Cary Grant movie, and I LOVE Cary Grant.

Not everything works out in terms of "making sense."  However, if you are willing to suspend a bit of disbelief everything will work out just fine in terms of being monstrously enjoyable.  Just sit back and watch one of the great credit sequences of all time, a great score, fantastically great writing, and some iconic moments -such as the murder at the U.N., the crop duster attack, and the frantic climb on the face of Mount Rushmore.  And don't forget to bid at the auction like a crazy man -it just might save your life!

North By Northwest.  A movie about a case of mistaken identity, murder, international spy rings, and romance on trains.  Definitely classic Hitchcock.  And also the best movie you can watch that starts with "N."

Entertainment: 10/10
Artistic Value: 5/10
Technical Merit: 8/10

Overall: 8/10


Runners up for the Letter "N:"

• No Country for Old Men (2007)
• Network (1976)
• Night of the Living Dead (1968)
• Night Train to Munich (1940)

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934)

Peter Lorre gives his first English performance in the first of Hitchcock's two versions of The Man Who Knew Too Much.  And boy, is that performance memorable.  He charms and laughs and rages his way through this tight and fun thriller, entirely and in every way stealing the show.

Comparisons are inevitable between this version and the later one with Jimmy Stewart.  But really overall they are very different films that simply share a similar plot.  The tension comes from a similar source, but the resolution of that tension and how it is developed are hardly similar.

To be honest, I'm not sure which version I prefer.  Hitchcock himself clearly thought he could do more with the concept, and he was right.  He certainly added to what he did here in the later film.  And of course the remake had Jimmy Stewart, which for me is always a plus (and changed the forgettable father in the early version with an unforgettable hero in the second.).  But overall I think the first film had better pacing, a much better villain, and a much more artistic style.  Hitchcock was breaking new ground in movie making, crafting a short but incredibly wonderful movie that still keeps audiences on the edge of their seats (and that has no small amount of humor).

Highly recommended.

Entertainment: 7/10
Artistic Value: 7/10
Technical Merit: 8/10

Overall: 7/10

The Best Trains of Alfred Hitchcock

Alfred Hitchcock and trains go together like Michelangelo and a marble slab.  Trains are for Hitchcock a medium and a metaphor, a plot element and a character at the same time.  He used trains in his films in amazingly memorable ways, and he uses them with remarkable frequency.  In fact, if you randomly choose to watch a Hitchcock film tonight, chances are it will feature at least one train.  This post is a celebration of some of his best uses of this romantic, bygone method of transportation.  There are other trains in Hitchcock films, but these are my favorites.


Suspicion (1941)
Perhaps not the best on this list, Suspicion has nonetheless a place in my heart.  It's a story of two very different people who meet, fall in love, marry, and then go through the hard times that come when you don't communicate very well prior to marriage.  For example: should the man work?  How should money be spent?  Should you sell off family heirlooms to pay gambling debts?  Is he trying to kill me?  You know, questions all married couples ask.

But it all begins on a train.  Here, in close quarters, our lovable characters are introduced to each other in intimate ways that only a train can force.  And it sets the tone of the film.  He's the cad, helping himself to money that isn't his ("legal tender my good man, legal tender.") and she's the shy one, going along with it.


Strangers on a Train (1951)

You knew this one had to be on the list.  After all, it's the only Hitchcock with the word "train" actually in the title!

Unfortunately, the train itself is not as memorable as what happens on the train.  Just like anyone, you probably speak with those you randomly meet in places where you are stuck together for a bit.  I mean, it's only polite to have a conversation with the guy next to you on a plane, or someone riding with you on the elevator, right?  So when Guy talks for a while with Bruno, we think nothing of it.  It's normal -we're together a few hours, let's chat.

And chat they do, as the countryside rolls by.  They chat about normal everyday stuff.  Like the perfect way to exchange murders.  Only one of them doesn't think it's a joke...so when the train ride is over, the consequences still follow.

Perhaps you'll think twice before chatting again with a stranger on a train.


The 39 Steps (1935)
Escaping from London, Richard Hannay must get to Scotland to pursue the only lead he has that can prove his innocence.  So he boards the "Flying Scotsman," the famous express train.  There he learns of the police manhunt chasing him, and to elude them he breaks into a private compartment, passionately kissing the girl he finds there (after all, no policeman would ever break up such an embrace to look for a fugitive, right?).  He then doubles back, pulls the emergency cord, and jumps off the train as it comes to a bridge.  It's thrilling, it's fun, and it is classic.  Wonderful use of trains to inspire that claustrophobic feeling of "nowhere to go, even though we are going somewhere."


Shadow of a Doubt (1943)
Hitchcock always called this one his favorite film.  So he put two train scenes in it.  The first is great, with the fugitive from justice hiding out as though sick, while others ask questions and play spades.  And by the way, that's Hitchcock with the flush.  Then when the train comes to a stop in the sleepy town, Uncle Charlie hobbles out, looking infirm, then makes a miraculous recovery.  He's arrived, and nothing will be the same.

The second scene is the more memorable though, as it comes at the film's climax.  Uncle Charlie is leaving, the family is seeing him off.  He manages to delay young Charlie, they go to the space between the cars, the door is open.  Then the shoving starts...

Uncle Charlie wanted to see the train.







North by Northwest (1959)

Carey Grant and Eva Marie Saint share a moment over a meal on the train.

I love North By Northwest.  It is fun, action packed, exciting, humorous, witty, lively, and a host of other pleasant adjectives.  It is the most perfect of all Hitchcock's movies about mistaken identity, with a good guy on the run accused of being the bad guy.  To prove his innocence, Roger Thornhill must get from New York to Chicago.  

So he takes the train.  Without a ticket.  With cops dogging his every move.  And with a mysterious blonde suddenly quite interested in his well-being.  Cat-and-mouse, intrigue, romance, and some of Hitchcock's most daring dialogue follow.  What's the best form of travel?  Well, in North By Northwest the answer is most definitely train.

It even ends on the train, with Thornhill and his new wife becoming better acquainted while the train rolls on. The train has almost become a character in the film, and most certainly is a metaphor.

The Lady Vanishes (1938)
Almost the whole of The Lady Vanishes takes place on a train.  It provides the central mystery: where could Miss Froy have gone, given that we are in a confined space on this train?  She is nowhere to be found?  The Lady Vanishes has everything good that a movie can possibly mine from trains: the claustrophobia, the false intimacy of being put in close proximity with strangers, the feeling of movement, the class distinctions between those traveling first class and those in third, and so much more.  At various times the train in The Lady Vanishes symbolizes freedom and confinement.  It represents the dangerous world, while England and home at the same time.  There are friends to be made, but enemies at hand.  We travel the way to safety, but never have been more in danger.  Our characters move through the compartments and on the outside of the train, exploring nearly every inch of it.

This train, above all others, is the greatest in Hitchcock history.  It is setting, plot, theme, symbol, character, hope, and danger all rolled into one.  Those who ride these rails will not emerge the same on the other side.

Foreign Correspondent (1940)

There is sometimes a fine line between movie and propaganda.  Anyone who tells you that film producers do not have an agenda to promote, that they just want to "entertain," needs to have a head readjustment.  And they need to see Alfred Hitchcock's Foreign Correspondent.

Released in 1940, Foreign Correspondent is Hitchcock's argument that America should get involved in World War 2.  At that time we had the policy that the war was Europe's problem.  Hitchcock saw things differently; he was after all a British citizen who was only recently come to America to make movies.  He had a personal motivation to see help come to England, and he couldn't quite understand why America was dragging its feet on what seemed to be a problem for all people everywhere.

So Foreign Correspondent was made, a simple film with a simple message.  As a film, it is one of the most streamlined of Hitchcock's works.  It progresses rapidly, following the exploits of a newly commissioned newspaper correspondent.  He travels from America to Europe, where war is brewing.  There he meets a girl in a peace charity and falls in love, notices windmills in Holland that spin the wrong way, witnesses an assassination, finds out the dead man is actually alive, and generally makes himself a thorn in the side of a group of German spies.  Oh, and he discovers that the ringleader of the group is really...oh, but I can't spoil every twist in a Hitchcock film for you, can I?

Simply put, the plot is rather straightforward and understandable.  The action is fun and exciting, full of chases, tension, and even a plane crash, and the movie is genuinely entertaining.  But as in any well-directed film, it's the little things that stand out.  For example, our hero, while traveling from one window to the next on the roof of the "Hotel Europe" accidentally breaks the neon in the sign, making the words now read "Hot Europe."  Very appropriate.

The use of humor is also quite well done.  Our hero's name is Johnny Jones -a perfectly normal American name.  However, the newspaper boss things such a name would not stand out, and thus gives his reporter a new handle: Humphry Haverstock.  This of course becomes a running gag.  Further, when declaring their love for each other, the main characters seem almost to realize they are in a movie: him "I'm in love with you, and I want to marry you."  Her: "I'm in love with you, and I want to marry you."  Him: "Hmm, that cuts down our love scene quite a bit, doesn't it?"  The whole relationship is almost a parody of Hollywood insta-love, as though Hitchcock was required to have a love story in the movie but wanted to get it out of the way as quickly as possible to focus on his theme.

There is also some genuinely good and clever writing, decent acting, and a plane crash effect that -while rather tame by today's standards -was revolutionary then.

I would say that the biggest flaw in the film is also its most memorable part, and it happens right at the end.  Johnny (sorry, Humphry Haverstock) has earned notoriety for his reporting, but is trapped in London during the Blitz.  He is in the middle of a radio report going live to America when the lights go out and the bombs start dropping again from German planes.  So Johnny, knowing America can probably still hear him, begins to talk off the cuff: "All that noise you hear isn't static, it's death coming to London.  Yes, they're coming here now.  You can hear the bombs falling on the street and the homes.  Don't tune me out, hang on a while -this is a big story and you're part of it.  It's too late to do anything here now except stand in the dark and let them come... as if the lights were all out everywhere, except in America.  Keep those lights burning, cover them with steel, ring them with guns, build a canopy of battleships and bombing planes around them.  Hello America!  Hang on to your lights: they're the only lights left in the world."

And then the movie ends to a patriotic rendition of "The Star Spangled Banner."  I kid you not, the whole thing is as patriotic at the end as Sam the Eagle, and I can't help but think "Hello Hitchcock, your propaganda is showing!"  The message is clear: Europe waited too long, listening to evil men who cried "peace, peace" when they only ever worked toward war.  Now the inaction of the past has reduced England to standing in the dark and waiting for bombs to fall.  America can't do that; they need to wake up and get ready for a fight, or the whole world will plunge into darkness.

This ending to the film is all very stirring and a fitting finale.  However, I still regard it as a moviemaking error, because it just seems like an overreach.  But I then try to put myself in Hitchcock's shoes in 1940, and I see the world falling apart, and America asleep.  And you know, I'd try as hard as possible to wake them up too!

Entertainment: 7/10
Artistic Value: 7/10
Technical Merit: 7/10

Overall: 7/10

Vertigo (1958)

A woman is rushing up the stairs of a tall bell tower.  Just behind her, Scottie (played by Jimmy Stewart) tries desperately to catch up.  Life and death is in the balance, and any delay could be disastrous.  Yet when Scottie glances below him he slams to a stop; bewilderingly, the ground far below appears to recede and approach at the same time, as though he were simultaneously falling down and up!  It is called vertigo, an uncontrollable fear of heights, a dizziness that stops him in his tracks.  Everything in him cries out to climb the stairs, to catch up to Madeleine, but he simply can't; the vertigo has paralyzed him.  And then he hears a scream...

Alfred Hitchcock was the Master of Suspense.  His movies are masterful and extremely well-crafted.  And of all his great career, 1958's Vertigo is his most exquisite.  Granted, it is not his most fun movie, that honor goes to North By Northwest.  Nor is it his most iconic film, that would be a battle between Psycho and The Birds.  And neither is it my favorite; that honor goes to Rear Window.  But Vertigo is certainly Hitchcock's most artistic film, and is likely to be his most enduring and influential movie.  After all, this past year it was Vertigo was named as Sight and Sound's top film of all time.  For 50 years Citizen Kane had the honor of being named the best film of all time in this poll of the nation's top filmmakers and critics.  Vertigo finally unseated it.  Does Vertigo deserve such an honor?

Absolutely.

Vertigo does all the important stuff so well it could nearly be called a perfect movie.  The acting is superb, especially Jimmy Stewart.  Now, I love Jimmy Stewart, but this is his best film and a departure from the style of many of his other roles.  He plays Scottie Ferguson with a lighthearted flare at first, then a dark and obsessive drive later.  He puts himself quite passionately into the role; this is the best acting performance in a Hitchcock film.  Opposite him is Kim Novak in the double role of Madeleine Elster and Judy Barton.  Novak often gets overlooked as an actress, but it is quite certain that Vertigo would not be effective without her convincing performance.  She nails this role, convincingly portraying herself as calm, cool, alluring, mad, confused, mysterious, suicidal, hopeful, abused, and ultimately terribly frightened.  There are other speaking roles, but really it all comes down to Jimmy Stewart and Kim Novak, and they earn their accolades.

Technically speaking the movie is a marvel.  The editing is wonderful.  I love the drawn out shots that are allowed to go on for significantly longer than the audience might expect.  I love the sequences when Scottie is following Madeleine that contain little, if any, dialogue.  I love the wonderfully edited nightmare sequence that is still ingrained on the psyche of Hollywood.  I love how careful editing can make a race up a tower feel so frantic and heart stopping.

The music by Bernard Herrmann is perfect and even a character of its own.  It is hard to place the style, and you come away thinking that it was somewhat Spanish, yet otherworldly.  Certainly it does nothing to reassure the viewer, but always keeps you on edge.

Vertigo is a movie beautifully shot, with Robert Burks getting credit behind the camera.  Under the direction of Hitchcock he uses washouts and color effects to a high degree of effect, allowing us not only to see but experience the madness and obsession of the characters.

And then there is the famed "Vertigo Effect."  Alfred Hitchcock pioneered the use of a great many techniques in filming.  Not all of them worked well for him, but his greatest success was how he allowed the audience to experience Scottie's acrophobia, his fear of heights, his vertigo.  By simultaneously pulling the camera physically backward while zooming in with the lens, you get the result of maintained focus on the subject but a highly unsettling change of perspective.  You get the sensation of falling while not moving.  This technique has become passe, used in almost every instance when a character sees something of great concern or realizes a horrible truth.  It was used to great effect in Jaws.  It was even used in Michael Jackson's Thriller video.  But it had never really been seen before in movies until Vertigo, and Hitchcock capitalized on that quite well.  The audience was seeing and experiencing something new, something unsettling, something that brought them into the action and made them part of the scene.

If there is a portion of Vertigo that is a bit weak it might be the writing. The story is about a detective hired to shadow a woman who may be mad, or even possessed.  To explain any more would be criminal, if you have not seen it before.  Let's just say that when the story is laid out simply it seems on first blush to be a bit absurd, even simplistic, melodramatic or corny.  There are a few small plot holes, and also a few things that seem far too convenient.  Just hearing the plot explained to you would not make you want to see the movie.

But that doesn't matter.  The film is so well made, so meticulously constructed that it transcends the story.  This is a movie about obsession, something even understood from the titles.  There we are treated to an extreme, uncomfortable close-up of a portion of a woman's face.  And as the camera pans from one side to the other we finally come up to her eye, and in the eye we see this spinning geometric patterns.  We fall, mesmerized, into this woman's eye.  Hitchcock had a way of making his title sequences fit into the story or set the tone of the film, but nowhere does he succeed better than in Vertigo.  Vertigo is about obsession and guilt, and by the end of the film these forces transform the character we had thought a hero into a manipulative bully, an abuser even.  And in my favorite shot, as the camera pans in a circle around Scottie and his remade Madeleine we clearly see that the obsession he thought would remove his guilt only plunges him into madness.  He has his demons to overcome, but what toll will they take on him or others before he conquers them?  There are no happy endings for the characters here; but then again, what happy endings are possible when obsession and guilt are your driving forces?

Vertigo ages well.  It was not received enthusiastically by critics in 1958, nor did it do extremely well in theaters.  Yet it seems to grow in influence as the years go on.  And for me personally, each repeated viewing (and there have been many) brings new insight and seems a bit more powerful than the last.  Vertigo will forever be regarded as Hitchcock's great artistic masterpiece.

Entertainment: 8/10
Artistic Value: 10/10
Technical Merit: 10/10

Overall: 10/10

The Lady Vanishes (1938)

The Lady Vanishes is the next to last movie that Hitchcock made before leaving England for the USA.  By this point in his career he had larger budgets to work with, and had garnered quite a bit of international recognition.  He had hit a huge home run with The 39 Steps back in 1935, and had a few well-received but less fantastic films that followed it up.  But in 1938 he released another real masterpiece, a film that still stands out as one of his best: The Lady Vanishes.

This is a film that perfects the pacing of a thriller.  Actually, The Lady Vanishes begins in almost every respect as a comedy.  It is light and funny, introducing and showcasing its characters in engaging and lovable ways.  There is a young English girl, Iris (played by Margaret Lockwood), traveling through Europe with her friends for the last time before going home to marry.  There is a pair of English gentlemen who seem to think the world begins and ends with cricket (that's a sport, for all my American friends).  There's a bumbling, lovable hotel owner, a nice English lady on her way home after serving as a foreign governess, and a young rascally man writing a book on folk dance who insists on doing loud, stomping research late at night in the town hotel.

As I said, things start off innocently enough, with clever and witty dialogue and not a few running gags (such as the maid having to come in and out of the room with the cricket nerds).  There's been a snow avalanche covering the rail lines, and the hotel of a small alpine town in some unnamed European country is packed with travelers trying to get home.  Everything is going along swimmingly; meals are eaten, the travelers are serenaded by a man outside playing the guitar, and the worst problem (aside from the hotel running out of food) is the loud music and dancing from the top floor room of the folk dance researcher.

But then somebody kills the singer outside.  And the next day somebody pushes a pot from a high window, which then injures Iris, our main protagonist.  Things have become a bit sinister, and Hitchcock just slowly dials up the pressure from there.  After all, once the train gets going the next day, the lady vanishes.  Where did Miss Froy go, the lovable English governess who befriends Iris?  She just disappears, and for no apparent reason nobody on the train other than Iris seems to remember that she had been on at all.  From here we get some fantastic movie-making; at one point Hitchcock even has us the audience doubting that Miss Froy really was there at all.

I won't give away the end, because you ought to see this film.  But the plot seamlessly and deftly moves from very light to mystery to action, maintaining the suspense throughout.  For all of this, the praise deservedly goes to Hitchcock.

But upon Hitchcock's shoulders falls the blame for the movie's shortcomings.  Fortunately, those shortcomings are very few.  The movie's worst moment is the opening shot: we are presented with that Alpine village in a shot that sweeps into town from outside of town, all the way to the front door of the hotel. Of course, the village in the shot is a model, and obviously so.  It is a good model, but a bad effect and does not age well.  Another issue has to do with the central MacGuffin, the reason everybody is after poor Miss Froy.  For spoiler reasons I can't tell you what it is, but I can say as far as coded messages go it strains credulity by quite a bit.

But those are small complaints, issues that only really serve to show the great parts of The Lady Vanishes in greater relief.  This is everything that a movie ought to be; funny, memorable, entertaining, a bit mysterious, and nail biting to the end.  This is a lady worth finding.

Entertainment: 8/10
Artistic value: 5/10
Technical merit: 6/10

Overall: 7.5/10

The 39 Steps (1935)

Back in the 1930's British films were not really held in high regard.  Chances were that any film made in England would not see any success whatsoever outside the British islands.  The reasons for this are easy to understand: few British actors were regarded as true stars, there were no internationally well-known directors, and the budgets they had simply paled in comparison to what Hollywood could produce.  What would it take to make the world take notice of any movie that came from Britain?

It took Alfred Hitchcock's first major international success, The 39 Steps. The stars aligned for Hitchcock to create a runaway success: the source was a popular hit novel, and the star was Robert Donat, who had just garnered a great deal of acclaim playing in the previous year's hit The Count of Monte Cristo.

The plot is classic Hitchcock: Donat plays a Canadian in London named Hannay.  He tries to help a woman who seems in distress, but she ends up murdered in his apartment.  Since he would be the main suspect he ends up on the run from both police and shadowy assassins as he tries to solve a mystery and clear his name.  Unfortunately he has precious few clues to help him solve the puzzle: a map of Scotland with one town circled, the fact that one bad guy has a bit of his pinky finger missing, and also the cryptic phrase "The 39 steps." 

From there Hannay ends up chased all over England and Scotland.  He is shot at, lied to, hunted, hounded, meets all kinds of strange and normal people, and ends up handcuffed to a woman who wants nothing more than to turn him in to the authorities.  Needless to say, this is a film that has a lot going on.  After seeing the movie you'll never want to condemn a man simply because of what you read in the paper. You'll always want to hear him out.

What does the movie do right?  Well, practically everything -especially when we consider that it was breaking quite a lot of new ground in 1935.  The acting was good, if a little bit over the top by Donat.  The script is wonderful fun, with a lot of great lines a memorable moments.  The action is right on target and breathtaking at times.  The camera work is wonderful, especially the outdoor segments at night that truly convey a feeling of darkness without obscuring our view of the actors.  And of course what brings it all together is the steady, strong hand of a genius director -Alfred Hitchcock.

What are the 39 steps?  I can't tell you that without giving away the mystery.  What I can tell you is that the movie The 39 Steps is simply great, and far ahead of its time.

Entertainment: 9/10
Artistic value: 4/10
Technical merit: 7/10

Overall: 7/10

Rebecca (1940)

Have I mentioned that I love Alfred Hitchcock's work?  Given that fact, I guess writing a review of his only Best Picture winner seems rather a foregone conclusion.  And since I just learned that Hollywood will be remaking, and no doubt ruining, Rebecca, it seems incumbent on me to encourage as many people as possible to enjoy the original.

Rebecca is the story of a young, naive American girl played by Joan Fontaine who meets and marries a dashing widower named Maxim de Winter (the ever brilliant Lawrence Olivier) while in Europe. Maxim is of course very rich, owning an estate in the south of England called Manderley.  But of course not everything is ideal for the new Mrs. de Winter.  Maxim is still struggling terribly over the death of his first wife, named Rebecca, the year before.  Plus, the new life that Mrs. de Winter #2 finds is completely unlike her experience to date.  Everyone seems to expect her to be more sophisticated, a great hostess, have brilliant fashion taste, and so on.  In other words, everyone seems to expect her to be Rebecca.  Manderley is haunted by Rebecca.  Not in the literal sense of course; rather, the house simply breathes with the spirit of Rebecca.  The stationary still has her initials, the pillowcases are embroidered with her name, the servants still operate on the schedule Rebecca devised.  The entire world seems to circle around the new Mrs. de Winter with one overriding message: you aren't good enough, you shouldn't be here, Maxim would rather have Rebecca than you, you'll never measure up, you should leave because you can never replace Rebecca!

In the middle of all this is Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper.  Played to chilling perfection by Judith Anderson, Mrs. Danvers is so loyal to Rebecca that she takes a set against our young heroine.  In fact, I'd say that Rebecca effectively ruined the employment opportunities of any woman named Danvers for the next 15 years!  In every way that Mrs. Danvers can she tries to subvert and undermine the confidence of the new Mrs. de Winters.  She describes Rebecca in an almost worshipful way, seeming more a lovesick puppy dog than housekeeper.  She rebukes Mrs. de Winter for failing to live up to expectations, and she even seeks to drive a wedge between her and Maxim.  And then, in the film's ultimate scene, Danvers could take the role of the devil himself, whispering fear and death into the young bride's insecure and despairing ear.

I tell you, Mrs. Danvers is among the most memorable and evil villains of all time.  As is Rebecca actually.  Even though Rebecca is never seen and has no lines, her presence is all over the movie aptly named for her.  

This is a fantastic film.  It is well acted, moves at a brisk pace even though it is a character drama, and is (of course) superbly directed.  You feel for the insecure heroine as she struggles awkwardly to fit into a foreign world.  You puzzle over the brooding Maxim who seems so good, yet who can lose his temper at the slightest mention of Rebecca.  But the genius of the movie comes in one scene where in one deft move Hitchcock turns everything you thought you knew about Rebecca upside down.  

Rebecca was Hitchcock's first American made film, and his only to win Best Picture (though many of his later films richly deserved the honor).  It is not my favorite of his films, but it certainly showcases its director's blossoming talent.  Don't let any new remake tell you about Rebecca.  Hear the story first as told by the Master of Suspense.  

Entertainment: 6/10
Artistic value: 7/10
Technical merit: 9/10

Overall: 8/10

Rear Window (1954)

I am a Hitchcock fanatic.  Alfred the Great (as I call him) died four days after I was born, but I doubt he has a bigger fan than I am.  I own nearly every single film he made once he came across the pond from England to America, and two from his English period.  He was the Master of Suspense, able to create and tease out the tension of a story to unbelievable levels.

I either love or highly appreciate all his movies.  He knew his craft deeply, and was constantly on the cutting edge of technological advancements in filmmaking.  He also created many of the techneques used today in film, most notably the "vertigo effect."  All his films showcase superb craftsmanship; as a director he remains unparalleled.

And of all his films I love Rear Window best.  It isn't his most exciting (that award goes to North by Northwest), nor his most artistic (Vertigo), nor his scariest (Psycho), nor his highest award winning (Rebecca won best picture), or most iconic (The Birds).  It simply is his movie where everything works together so beautifully that I can't help but love it. 

Rear Window is the story of  "Jeff" Jefferies (Jimmy Stewart), a magazine photographer who loves to live out of a suitcase and travel the world.  His problem is that in getting his last award-winning photograph he was hit by a crashing race car, ending up in a full leg cast and nothing to do but stare out the rear window of his apartment.  This he does with increasing interest as he gets to know his neighbor's habits and quirks, giving them little names of his own -Miss Lonely Hearts, Miss Torso (his favorite, the dancer with the stunning figure), and so on.  Then one night Jeff notices the salesman who lives across the way leave several times in the middle of the night with a case.  This odd behavior, along with several  other small things, leads Jeff to wonder if his neighbor has murdered his wife.

Joining Jimmy Stewart is the incomparably fantastic Grace Kelly (great actress, great beauty, and future princess of Monaco) as Jeff's girlfriend Lisa Fremont.  Lisa is entirely the opposite of Jeff -she is stylish and rich, a true lady's lady, and a bigwig in the fashion world of New York City.  If Jeff likes to live out of a suitcase, Lisa would only buy a suitcase if it matched her new shoes.  And this relationship forms the real basis of the movie's conflict.  You see, Rear Window isn't really about a guy who may or may not have killed his wife.  It's about the question of marriage -what is the give and take, how do two different people live one life, is such a relationship really beneficial to humanity, and is it possible to be happily married long term?  These are the questions discussed by Jeff and Lisa, even if on the surface they are simply arguing about his desire to travel verses her desire that he set up a studio in the city. 
Is a relationship with a member of the opposite sex necessary for happiness?  Miss Lonley Hearts sure seems to think so, and almost does something desperate because of that belief.
Is marriage the door to happiness we seem to think it will be at first?  Ask the newliweds who move in who seem so happy, but then the nagging seems to start. 
What about Miss Torso?  Is she happy as the social butterfly, juggling all the wolfish looks of the men she entertains?  Or does she desire something deeper?
And ultimately, ask Lars Thorwald, our neighbor across the way.  Did he kill his wife?  Why, if marriage is such the great thing that Lisa seems to think?  Or is there more going on?

Aside from the boy/girl stuff, Rear Window is a great place to start a discussion about our voyeuristic society.  As Jeff asks, is it a good thing to spy on a neighbor, even if you prove he didn't kill his wife?  Where are the boundaries of privacy, and why should we respect them, and when should we cross them?  What are the rules of Rear Window ethics?  Hitchcock gives us a taste of an answer, particularly in the final shot, but ultimately the issue still exists to be resolved today.

Now if you are getting the idea that this is not an action packed movie, you are right.  It takes place exclusively in one set, and has all of about 5-6 actual speaking roles.  That being said, it is Hitchcock, and by the end you care about the characters and the tesion builds to boiling.

Of course, it does do two things imperfectly.  Hitchcock loved to try new things, which meant not everything he tried worked, and a few things just don't age well.  In Rear Window there are two flaws.  First, Hitchcock wanted the audience to experience what a flash of light in a dark room does to the character, but the color effect he added distracts, rather than adds to the tension.  Also, at one point Hitchcock speeds the film up rapidly, making everything happen much faster but also lending a noticable awkwardness to the movement.  Both these flaws take place within a minute of each other.

Aside from that, Rear Window is among my favorite films.  The music, the acting, the script, the fun, everything comes together to create a true masterpiece.  Highly Recommended!

Entertainment: 8/10
Artistic value: 8/10
Technical merit: 8/10

Overall rating: 9/10  (this is a case where the whole is better than the individual parts.)