In Alfred Hitchcock’s mystery film Rear Window, a talented photographer L.B. “Jeff” Jefferies is tethered to his wheelchair and confined to his small New York apartment due to a broken leg. Bored out of his mind, he begins observing his neighbors across the courtyard through his rear window—and what he discovers may lead to something much more dangerous than he bargained for. With the help of his intelligent and daring girlfriend, Lisa; his dry-humored nurse, Stella; his skeptical detective friend, Doyle; and a pair of binoculars and a 35mm Exakta Varex VX camera, Jeff investigates the possible murder that may have been committed by the salesman across the courtyard, Mr. Thorwald.
This story is told from Jeff’s point of view. The entire film is shot from his apartment through his rear window, conveying Jeff’s utter helplessness and claustrophobic boredom, as well as limiting the audience’s knowledge to only what Jeff knows—an effective way to hold the audience’s attention as well as draw out suspense. The film follows the traditional Three-Act structure; the two climaxes being Jeff seeing suspicious activity at the salesman’s apartment (the salesman wrapping up knives in newspaper, and his wife not appearing for days on end) and the salesman attacking Jeff in his apartment near the end. The film also does not use flashbacks or any other storytelling devices to move the plot forward: every scene, every piece of dialogue is in the moment that the audience is watching.
A large part of the film’s appeal is not only due to its riveting narrative and creative storytelling, but also the way it was shot. Many scenes can be paused and could be taken as stills—that’s how amazing the camerawork is in Rear Window. From striking shots of Grace Kelly in beautiful dresses to close-ups of James Stewart staring intently over the long lens of his camera, this movie captures very simple moments with elegance and intent, which only serves to make the film even more impressive.
The film itself is based entirely on windows, playing off of both their physical use and the meaning embedded in them. The significance of an actual window is shown through the fact that the premise of the movie is based on Jeff noticing things about his neighbors by looking out of his window, and is underlined by the emphasis Hitchcock places on the neighborhood windows: from illuminating them from the inside at night, or framing bright colors and movement in them, the audience’s eye will automatically be drawn towards the windows.
And then there’s the matter of what the window represents. Throughout the film, the audience only gets to see a partial picture of what’s going on—both due to Jeff’s inability to hear what his neighbors are saying and also because the walls between the windows sometimes obscure his view. But mostly, he can’t fully understand anything his neighbors do simply because nothing is in context. He doesn’t know whether Ms. Lonelyhearts is taking sleeping pills to sleep or to commit suicide. That coil of rope Mr. Thorwald is bringing into his apartment looks ominous, but is it just to tie up a trunk with a broken lock? This uncertainty brings tension throughout the film; a constant, nagging suspense that won’t quite go away. The window represents this half-picture, this incomplete view of the world: when you look through a window, you can only see what’s in front of you.
This film is also a window into Jeff’s life. It’s not his life story, it’s just a week of it. It’s obvious he and Lisa have a history, but once again, their relationship isn’t placed in a context—the audience just has to make do with what they can see through this narrow window. Similarly to the French film Amélie from Jean-Pierre Jeunet, Rear Window gives us brief but compelling insight into ordinary people’s everyday lives. These side stories enrich the film and give it a multifaceted quality, as opposed to it being a straightforward mystery film.
I personally really enjoyed this film. I don’t normally like what I consider to be “old movies”, but Rear Window is a smart, creative reinvention of the mystery film. Watching it reinforced my opinion that good camerawork and editing are just as—if not slightly more—important than a good plot, and also that a movie doesn’t need 24/7 romance, overused drama, and constant action to keep the audience’s attention. I loved Rear Window and would definitely see it again.
This story is told from Jeff’s point of view. The entire film is shot from his apartment through his rear window, conveying Jeff’s utter helplessness and claustrophobic boredom, as well as limiting the audience’s knowledge to only what Jeff knows—an effective way to hold the audience’s attention as well as draw out suspense. The film follows the traditional Three-Act structure; the two climaxes being Jeff seeing suspicious activity at the salesman’s apartment (the salesman wrapping up knives in newspaper, and his wife not appearing for days on end) and the salesman attacking Jeff in his apartment near the end. The film also does not use flashbacks or any other storytelling devices to move the plot forward: every scene, every piece of dialogue is in the moment that the audience is watching.
A large part of the film’s appeal is not only due to its riveting narrative and creative storytelling, but also the way it was shot. Many scenes can be paused and could be taken as stills—that’s how amazing the camerawork is in Rear Window. From striking shots of Grace Kelly in beautiful dresses to close-ups of James Stewart staring intently over the long lens of his camera, this movie captures very simple moments with elegance and intent, which only serves to make the film even more impressive.
The film itself is based entirely on windows, playing off of both their physical use and the meaning embedded in them. The significance of an actual window is shown through the fact that the premise of the movie is based on Jeff noticing things about his neighbors by looking out of his window, and is underlined by the emphasis Hitchcock places on the neighborhood windows: from illuminating them from the inside at night, or framing bright colors and movement in them, the audience’s eye will automatically be drawn towards the windows.
And then there’s the matter of what the window represents. Throughout the film, the audience only gets to see a partial picture of what’s going on—both due to Jeff’s inability to hear what his neighbors are saying and also because the walls between the windows sometimes obscure his view. But mostly, he can’t fully understand anything his neighbors do simply because nothing is in context. He doesn’t know whether Ms. Lonelyhearts is taking sleeping pills to sleep or to commit suicide. That coil of rope Mr. Thorwald is bringing into his apartment looks ominous, but is it just to tie up a trunk with a broken lock? This uncertainty brings tension throughout the film; a constant, nagging suspense that won’t quite go away. The window represents this half-picture, this incomplete view of the world: when you look through a window, you can only see what’s in front of you.
This film is also a window into Jeff’s life. It’s not his life story, it’s just a week of it. It’s obvious he and Lisa have a history, but once again, their relationship isn’t placed in a context—the audience just has to make do with what they can see through this narrow window. Similarly to the French film Amélie from Jean-Pierre Jeunet, Rear Window gives us brief but compelling insight into ordinary people’s everyday lives. These side stories enrich the film and give it a multifaceted quality, as opposed to it being a straightforward mystery film.
I personally really enjoyed this film. I don’t normally like what I consider to be “old movies”, but Rear Window is a smart, creative reinvention of the mystery film. Watching it reinforced my opinion that good camerawork and editing are just as—if not slightly more—important than a good plot, and also that a movie doesn’t need 24/7 romance, overused drama, and constant action to keep the audience’s attention. I loved Rear Window and would definitely see it again.