The character who wasn't there

REBECCA (1940) is a film adaptation of a novel of the same name as directed by Alfred Hitchcock and starring Laurence Olivier and Joan Fontain.

This is certainly not your standard Hitchcock film! The original story by Daphne du Maurier has not only been been ably translated to the big screen but enhanced in a way that only a master of the suspense genre could accomplish. With incredible flair the viewer of this film is treated to the whirlwind romance of Max de Winter and a young social secretary. But even their earliest meetings are marked with a darkness and foreshadowing that is chilling, creepy and deliciously evocative. The best early scene is when the older matron that is the social secretary's boss is recovering from a cold in bed and she puts out her cigarette in her cold cream. How the hot love of youth will be put out in the coldest part of the de Winter vanity.

That darkness is the late Rebecca de Winter and she is everywhere and on everyone's mind. When Max marries the secretary it is she who will be slowly drowned by the specter of Rebecca's drowning. And when she sees the frightening love that Max's housekeeper Mrs. Danvers has for Rebecca, even after Rebecca is a year dead, the new Mrs. de Winter begins to realize that Rebecca was far more than she seemed. And it is this wonderful subtext that only Alfred Hitchcock could get past the censors in 1940. Mrs. Danvers is so obviously the mourning lover of Rebecca. The new Mrs. de Winter can not put the clues together, however, and she obtusely continues to believe that it is Max who was in love with her. This early tip-off that Rebecca was probably bisexual and used the men around her are telegraphed through the body language of Max and Rebecca's cousin (along with quite a few other men who wander through this film). Through innuendo and fantastic acting a character sketch of the late Rebecca is built up for the viewer long before Max's admission of his hatred for her.

That scene of confession of Max to his new wife is one of the most striking scenes ever shot on film. As he describes his last encounter with Rebecca the camera slowly pans around the room going from point to point. And at each point there is a wonderfully subtle play on shadows and lighting that lead the viewer to almost feel a spectral presence of Rebecca. Her personality is so forceful it is evoked even in memory by someone who desperately hated her. Such filming is rarely scene today as special effects have replaced the much more subtle use of lighting and storytelling, of which Alfred Hitchcock was already an acknowledged master.

The denouement of the film is a bit of a let down, but to be expected in the gothic romance genre. Unfortunately the film doesn't have the feel of a gothic romance, tending towards a sedate thriller instead. This does not detract from the film very much as a few loose ends are quickly and a bit awkwardly tied up in a furious attempt at a suspense-filled happy ending.

Finally the wonderful shooting of the Manderly Manor house makes up for the sins of the final few minutes. The lofty rooms should elate, but the dust in the atmosphere gives a very surrealistic feel to the indoor shots. As this film is supposed to be a reminiscence the light haze in most of the indoor scenes just add to the feeling of remembrance while highlighting the smallness of the characters.

This film should be a MUST SEE for any fan of Hitchcock's work or fans of the gothic romance genre who want a change of pace. As this was Hitchcock's first film made in Hollywood any follower of his early works will see how he put a much larger budget to great use throughout the film while still retaining the feel of a hand crafted though lower budget film.