Sep 121940
 
two reels
rebecca

Rich and imposing widower, Maxim de Winter (Laurence Olivier) quickly marries a lower class introvert (Joan Fontaine). The Second Mrs. de Winter—that’s the only name she’s given—has problems fitting in at Manderley, his ancient estate, and is constantly doubting herself, afraid that her husband can only love his dead first wife, Rebecca. Mrs. Danvers (Judith Anderson), obsessed with Rebecca, encourages her fears to the point of suggesting she kill herself. This gothic melodrama continues for two-thirds of the film until the new wife discovers that things are not at all as she had assumed.

I’m not sure if it is fitting to review Rebecca as part of my “Overrated Movies” collection as it no longer seems to have that good of a reputation. It isn’t hated, but it seems to be an also-ran on critics’ lists of Alfred Hitchcock projects. A quick look at a dozen such lists shows it always outside of the top 10 (granted, those top films are lofty company, but Rebecca needs such company if it really deserved to beat The Philadelphia Story and His Girl Friday to the Oscar). Rebecca tends to sit in the middle ground, between the director’s classics and failures, which is where I put it. Hitchcock himself was none-too-fond of it. David O Selznick wanted it his way (he always did) and played with the script, and recut the film to his own liking, filming additional scenes and re-recording dialog and making a mishmash of it. At least Hitchcock managed to substitute the over-the-top close-up of the letter “R” on a burning bed over Selznick’s choice of the ridiculous “R” appearing in the smoke. Hitchcock dismissed the film and changed his shooting style to make it more difficult for producers to mangle his work in the future.

Rebecca is a rip-off of Jane Eyre, both as a novel and a film, though amusingly, the ’43 adaptation of Jane Eyre takes its look from the ’40 Rebecca. In both we have our lower class girl tossed into a gothic mansion with a dashing but troubled widower. She loves him and he may love her. Reminders of the dead wife are everywhere and it seems like her spirit is darkening the lives of all involved. The housekeeper is fanatically devoted to the ghost and dislikes the intrusion of the young woman. And there is a mystery involving that first wife and her death. Rebecca functions because of the similarity. Jane Eyre has an unusual answer for its mystery (yes, spoilers for Jane Eyre ahead) in that the first wife isn’t dead. Since Rebecca apes much of Jane Eyre, it leaves the audience asking what it wouldn’t otherwise: Is the first Mrs. de Winter actually gone? And it is the possibility that she isn’t that drives the tension. Without that, there would be nothing but a depressing character study for the first hour. What we’ve got here is a “make your own mystery” story, where Jane Eyre goes one way and Rebecca another.

The strange thing is that Rebecca just lets all the tension go at the two-thirds mark. The story ends, and then a new story begins. Up to that point it is all fog and rain and doom and despair and doubt. Then all of that goes away and we jump into a conventional police procedural. The final act isn’t bad, though the tonal shift can give you whiplash. It doesn’t help that the censors demanded a much more unlikely and emotionally bland back-story than the one in the book, one that makes it difficult to figure why de Winter didn’t solve most of the problems early on by speaking to his new wife.

Plot holes abound (Why didn’t de Winter fire Mrs. Danvers some time ago?) and the story doesn’t hold together well, but most of those failings are hidden in all that fog. The sudden personality alterations are a bit harder to take. Still, as a whole, Rebecca is mildly entertaining and I rank it best of the trilogy of gothic romances of the time, Rebecca, Jane Eyre, and Wuthering Heights. But if you want classic gothic romance, two supernatural films rise high over any of these. 1943 would see the release of I Walked With a Zombie, based on Jane Eyre, and ’44 would give us The Uninvited, which discreetly borrows from Rebecca. Both are masterpieces.

Most of Rebecca’s 11 Oscar nominations are undeserved, as is the win for best picture. Some are embarrassing, like the three for acting. I have to wonder if it was Selznick that let the acting become so uncontrolled as it isn’t Hitchcock’s style; it does remind me of Gone With the Wind, which had Selznick’s fingerprints all over it. Olivier, Fontaine, and Anderson are in melodrama-mode, playing everything too broadly. If de Winter is in a brooding mood, you’ll know it. Likewise every time Wife 2 is frightened, Fontaine does her best to announce that to people outside the theater walking by in the streets. And Anderson only needs a mustache to twirl to be Snidely Whiplash. The director’s nomination didn’t impress Hitchcock, nor me, and the special effects haven’t aged well, making that nom into a joke. The score is fine and the nominations for art direction and cinematography (which it won) are legitimate.

So Rebecca, once thought of as a great picture, is now seen as a good one, or in my case, a fair one. It’s shot well enough. It looks pretty. And the hammy acting doesn’t ruin what is a silly story to begin with. Watch it, or don’t watch it. It isn’t worth the energy to promote one choice over the other.