An anxious experience that invites participation.
Based on a short story by Cornell Woolrich, this mystery thriller by director Alfred Hitchcock
earned 36-times its $1 million dollar budget, scored four Academy Award nominations, and
is widely regarded as one of the best movies ever made.
But even after seeing it twice, I remain unconvinced of its greatness.
One of Hitchock's trademarks was his frequent use of point-of-view camera movement, a technique
which forced the audience to engage in a form of voyeurism.
You saw what his characters saw, even if it wasn't always comfortable.
And there's no purer form of first-person-voyeurism than in this 1954 motion picture.
Watching someone - without their awareness - can feel taboo, but it's also intrinsically
fascinating.
They don't necessarily have to be engaging in sexual or explicit activities, but it certainly
makes things more interesting.
I'm reminded of a particularly memorable occurrence while I was attending college in Boston; when
an athletic mid-30s female in the apartment across the street began paddling her pink
canoe in full view of our entire floor.
Surely she knew people would see her, right?
With the lights on, shades open, and mere feet from a college dormitory?
It felt like a scene out of a raunchy teen-comedy...
everyone gathered around the windows and cheering her on.
Were we invading her privacy by watching, or was she enjoying her public display of
self-affection?
At what point does shameful voyeurism become acceptable entertainment?
And when might it become a civic obligation?
"Rear Window" attempts to examine both of these themes by way of a relatable, if lethargic
story.
Jimmy Stewart stars as a wheelchair-confined photographer, who spies on his neighbors from
his apartment window and becomes convinced one of them has committed murder.
And although every scene he witnesses seems sinister and dangerous, the script is quick
to provide alternate explanations, as if to discredit itself, and play Stewart off as
a 'boy who cried wolf'.
Like when police detective Wendell Corey remarks, "People do a lot of things in private they
couldn't possibly explain in public."
Unfortunately, "Rear Window" never really does anything with this nagging counter-suspicion.
Those waiting for a twist or reveal... will be disappointed that the plot concludes without
either.
Mixing concern with exposition, the dialogue functions as a sort of running commentary
for the picture, with Grace Kelly featured as the dutiful (and beautiful) girlfriend
- who serves as Stewart's willing accomplice.
When she's confronted by the suspected-murderer while on a fact-finding visit to his flat,
the audience feels just as helpless as the laid-up protagonist.
Filmed in bright technicolor, the 112-minute film makes excellent use of its confined location.
Remarkably, the camera never leaves Stewart's apartment; but with a multitude of angles,
focal lengths, and color-changes, Hitchcock keeps things from becoming repetitive or claustrophobic.
Which is even more impressive considering the movie doesn't have a score - all we hear
are the diegetic sounds, noises, and music coming from this crowded Greenwich Village
complex.
The building themselves of course were all part of a massive set specially built inside
the Paramount studio - which included at least 1,000 arc lights to mimic sunshine, functioning
plumbing, and six-stories of fully furnished fake-apartments.
Perhaps "Rear Window's" most effective accomplishment is how it imprints Stewart's uncomfortable
emotions onto the viewer.
What begins with guilt soon transforms to anxiety and fear, and later, obligation and
heroism.
Despite its decidedly uncomplicated and convenient developments, "Rear Window" is a surprisingly
enthralling experience - and a COOL movie.
That does it for this quick excerpt - but if you'd like to watch full episodes of "Movie
Night", and submit your own reviews to be included on the show, please visit the Jogwheel
YouTube channel.
My name is Jonathan Paula, thanks for watching and have a good Movie Night!