Rear Window (1954)

 

Rear Window is an intriguing movie about the ethics of voyeurism, and if there were ever any major film director who was fascinated by voyeurism, it’s this film’s director, the master himself, Alfred Hitchcock. He and his crew chose to place the central character, L.B. “Jeff” Jeffries, in a wheelchair confined to his apartment for six weeks. Jeff, played by Jimmy Stewart with his typical acerbic smile, works for Life magazine so he’s accustomed to looking at people. The camera equipment for seeing other people at various distances lies conveniently around the apartment. Jeff’s favorite tool during his recovery, though, is a telescopic lens he uses to watch his neighbors. He’s nicknamed some of them, such as Miss Lonelyhearts, a woman who can’t seem to catch a break when it comes to dating, and Miss Torso, a model who gets lots of male attention. He also watches – “spies on” doesn’t quite seem to capture exactly what he does – a couple of newlyweds, a composer, a couple who likes to sleep outside on the stoop, almost everyone in the complex. His greatest interest, though, is with a salesman named Thorwald (played by the physically imposing and often glowering Raymond Burr), especially after Thorwald’s wife disappears after he’s seen making three trips out of the apartment in a rainstorm, and then there’s the matter of the large trunk held together by a rope. Jeff calls a detective friend of his, Wendell Corey’s Tom Doyle, but Jeff’s theory/explanation/conspiracy as to what happens just doesn’t make sense to Doyle. He does check on a couple of “leads” that Jeff gives him, but really, he just thinks Jeff is bored and his imagination is getting the best of him. Voyeurism can do that to you, I suppose. Interestingly, Jeff’s girlfriend, a model named Lisa, initially refuses to believe Jeff but later develops a theory of her own. Lisa is played by Grace Kelly, the epitome of style and elegance in the 1950s. When she becomes so intrigued by what might have happened to Mrs. Thorwald, she even sneaks into his apartment to do some searching (snooping?). Jeff, ever the voyeur, has to watch as Thorwald returns home and threatens Lisa. What is a helpless man to do in a situation like this? What is a helpless audience in the same situation to do? When Jeff realizes that Thorwald knows he suspects the salesman is a murderer, he’s pretty much incapable of escaping. I mean, I wouldn’t want to know that Raymond Burr is coming to my house to seek revenge, would you? Rear Window features some great tension at moments like this. It’s certainly one of Hitchcock’s most accomplished thrillers from when he was perhaps at or near his peak of his talents as a filmmaker. Some of his usual filmic touches are on display. We watch as the camera moves through Jeff’s apartment and around the courtyard so that we become voyeurs too, looking at or spying on everyone Jeff watches. Sometimes we look at Jeff, and sometimes we see what he sees. Hitchcock could easily make us feel uncomfortable, particularly when we engage in behavior that we see the characters doing against their better judgment. He also makes his usual cameo, here as a clock repairman in the composer’s apartment. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the performance of Thelma Ritter as Stella, the nurse sent by the insurance company to give Jeff a massage and encourage his healing. She is blunt, direct, and funny; she even speculates about how and where Thorwald might have cut up his wife’s body. The morbid nature of her curiosity doesn’t detract from the moment of great comic relief that she provides. By the end of the film, she and Lisa have joined us in the audience as being implicated in what happens. It’s a clever turn in a clever film.

Oscar Nominations: Best Director (Alfred Hitchcock), Best Screenplay, Best Color Cinematography, and Best Sound Recording