 Rebecca (1940) The narrator in question is Joan Fontaine, whose character is referred to only as "The Second Mrs. de Winter" (for the purposes of this review, we shall call her "the Chick"). It is a perfectly fitting title, as the first Mrs. de Winter, the Rebecca of the title, died mysteriously, and casts a long and deep shadow over all the players in this thriller. Joan Fontaine starts the film as the paid companion to Mrs. Van Hopper, a mean-spirited rich old woman. On holiday on the Riviera, Mrs. Van Hopper bumps into the wealthy widower George Fortescu Maxillian 'Maxim' de Winter (Laurence Olivier) and inadvertently sets in motion the rest of the film. Maxim is immediately taken with the Chick, and when Mrs. Van Hopper falls ill, he invites the Chick with him on drives, picnics, to play tennis, and other wealthy pursuits. The Chick becomes smitten with Maxim as well, but his erratic dark moods over the mysterious fate of his first wife lead her to believe that Maxim isn't interested. When Van Hopper decides to terminate the holiday and the Chick is faced with the possibility of never seeing Maxim again, she runs to his suite to say goodbye. He immediately proposes, and after a brief honeymoon takes her to his colossal estate, the aforementioned Manderley. It is there that she meets Mrs. Danvers (Judith Anderson), a harsh housekeeper whose obsessive love for her dead mistress Rebecca threatens to completely unhinge the Chick, who is in every way Rebecca's opposite. It doesn't help that the house is gargantuan and cold and confusing, that Maxim disappears on business constantly, and that various odd characters keep popping up at the mansion to confirm the Chick's worst fears that she can never be the woman that Rebecca was. From there, the plot thickens and twists and turns until the surprising and shocking conclusion. As many of you dear and loyal readers know (all three of you), I have reservations about Hitchcock, but Rebecca contends with Rear Window as my favorite Hitchcock film. The man crafted a truly great film with an exciting and tense storyline, fantastic and unique characters, and a haunting mood to match. Plus, we get a solid dose of humor early on, but thankfully sans Hitchcock's trademark forced slapstick. The only cowlick on this otherwise perfect coif occurs when the plot veers towards legal drama late in the film, yet the complications are engaging enough to render this a minor speed bump on the highway to heaven (sorry, Mr. Landon!). Performances are impeccable all around. Sad to say, this may be the only classic-era Olivier film I've seen, but he has impressed me enough to want to see more. His Maxim is a complex mixture of breezy confidence, insecurity, fear, anger, and love. Meanwhile, Judith Anderson threatens to steal the show as Mrs. Danvers. From the moment she appears, we know we're in trouble, but what's brilliant about Anderson's performance is that we actually sympathize with the vile Danvers despite her psychotic behavior. And there's no way to predict what she'll do next to undermine poor Chick. Which brings us to Joan Fontaine. I'd heard the name before, but damn is she good. As the increasingly jittery center around which Rebecca spins, Fontaine makes this film. She is more than likable from the first instant: Fontaine not only projects a little-bird vulnerability that makes us want to protect her from the nerve-wracking travails in the land of Manderley, but also a hidden strength that keeps us on the edge of our seat, hoping she'll finally come into her own. It is the clash between Fontaine's shrinking violet and Danvers' destructive ragweed (?) that generates the great tension at the core of Rebecca. She also has a really sexy British prep-school voice. Rebecca was Hitchcock's only Best Picture Oscar® (he never won Best Director). That may seem unfair given the importance and influence he had on the world of film, and it may seem silly to even mention since the Oscars™ are a sham anyway, but I understand why it was this film and not Rear Window or The Man Who Knew Too Much. There is an emotional depth to Rebecca that many of Hitchcock's most highly-touted films lack (take that, Psycho!), an overall warmth despite the dark subject matter and chilly tone, and a simplicity to the filmmaking despite Hitchcock's traditional reliance on more obvious trickery and manipulation. So I'll say it: Rebecca is a masterpiece.
Review by Crimedog |
