Review of Rebecca

Though the only Hitchcock film to win a best picture Award, Rebecca remains over-looked by contemporary audiences, never to reach classic, essential Hitch status. Honestly, I'm not surprised. In its entire 130 minutes there is not a single, truly memorable scene. And great scenes are how we call movies back to mind. Sure we may vaguely remember liking a film or not liking a film, but ultimately time measures its movies in Mount Rushmores, bell towers, grey-hound track binoculars, and scissor-stabbings. That said, in the case of Rebecca, the whole is better than the sum of its parts. While I was never truly wowwed by any one or two sequences, I was acutely aware throughout the film that a true master was at the helm. Style-wise this is probably one Hitchcock's strongest efforts from start to finish. It is photographed beautifully and brilliantly; I paused the film twice just to admire perfectly framed, executed, or otherwise spectacular shots. The editing is superb as well, in its use of fades, double-exposures, etc. But in regards to substance, Rebecca never achieves greatness. Most notable is Fontaine's performance. She excells in a demanding role made even more challenging in the fact that the story leaves even the most basic questions about her character unanswered: Why are we to believe she is SO devotedly in love with this man again? Meanwhile, Olivier is good, but would be merely adequate without Fontaine. And for all the promise of an enchanting, classic victorian-era gothic story, Rebecca meanders about a bit too much in the telling.