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| Photo Credit: Film Forever |
Rear Window is a film about watching. We watch the protagonist, L.B.Jeffries, be forced to lead a life of mundanity as his cast confines him to the four walls of his apartment. We watch his neighbors, Ms. Lonelyhearts, Ms. Torso, and Thorwald, each cope with their loneliness in sad, distinct ways. We watch Jeffries’ girlfriend, Lisa, wholeheartedly commit to a man who is afraid of commitment. And most importantly, we watch Jeffries do the watching.
The film begins with the camera panning over the apartment complexes in Greenwich Village, New York, focusing through every rear window in the vicinity. The audience is introduced to Jeff’s neighbors, and even though we, nor Jeff, ever meet most of his neighbors, Jeff forms intricate backstories for them, finding entertainment in the seemingly mundane lives of those around him: Ms. Torso practices ballet every morning, stretching her legs on her kitchen counter and bending forward, her short-shorts on full display to satisfy the male-gaze, and to pass her time away, she entertains gentlemen with alcohol parties in an attempt to fill the void; Ms. Lonelyhearts pathetically hosts dinner parties for her invisible lovers; and Thorwald kills his wife to deal with the loneliness he feels being stuck in an unhappy marriage with someone who literally cannot move.
Hitchcock plays with the notion of voyeurism and takes it a step further, allowing us to obsess over the lives of Jeffries and his neighbors in the same way that Jeffries does. Thus, Hitchcock suggests that like an audience who sits in front of a screen and watches events unfold in front of them, Jeffries does the same, squandering his days and nights as an invalid shamelessly looking through a lens at the lives of strangers. We cannot judge him for doing what we do―and we don’t. Instead, we obsess along with him, watching as he watches, trying to verify the murder mystery that unfolds in front of Jeffries’ window.
After growing certain that his neighbor has murdered his wife, Jeffries decides that the only way to verify is by digging up the communal garden and retrieving any proof. However, because he’s restricted by a cast that wraps around his entire leg and reaches up to his hip, Lisa nobly volunteers to do his dirty work for him―After all, not only is she madly in love with him and will do anything to make him happy, which she believes would in turn convince him to marry her, but she has also grown fascinated with watching the murder case suspect and actually wants to know if it’s true, as that’s all Jeffries ever talks about. Jeff sits at his window, using his camera lens to zoom in to Stella and Lisa, who use shovels to dig up the garden, but when they find nothing, Lisa becomes so enthralled with obtaining proof that she decides that it would be a good idea to break into Thorwald’s apartment. Not only is this illegal and stupid on Lisa’s part, but watching Lisa do this further situates us in L.B. Jeff’s position. Jeff grows anxious, mouthing to Lisa to “come on, come on, get out of there”(1:38:28), and the more anxious he gets, the more anxious we get, as experience watching horror films have taught us that nothing good ever comes from breaking into a suspected murderer’s home.
After looking through Mrs. Thorwald’s purse and finding nothing, Lisa grows a little aggravated―did she really just risk her life climbing through a balcony and window in heels for nothing? L.B. and Stella get distracted by Mrs. Lonelyhearts’ attempted suicide that they forget to warn Lisa that Thorwald has returned. Lisa hides, but her hiding ultimately proves inconsequential, as her rookie mistake of leaving evidence that she was there out in the open, propels Thorwald to search his apartment. When he finds Lisa, he pushes her onto the couch and asks her to return what she’s taken, then he pulls her up and begins to strangle her as she screams for Jeff. Jeff’s impotency is highlighted in this scene: not only can he not do his job as a man and help his girlfriend, but he grows more scared for his life than Lisa’s when she starts to scream for help. He covers his ears with his hands, and the shot reverse shot between his cowardice and Lisa’s attack in the dark, shows that Jeff really doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He’s been arrogant, self-centered, and insensitive for the majority of the film, but this scene only emphasizes these traits as he considers doing nothing to help Lisa.
When the cops show up, he feels relieved that he didn’t have to do anything, and Lisa, like the dedicated woman that she is, steals the ring back, and signals to it on her finger, where Throwald notices that she’s signaling at someone. The camera focuses on Thorwald, and when he stares into L.B. Jeffries’s camera, we see those almost-lifeless eyes staring at us. Hitchcock’s use of shadow and then, complete darkness, work well to amplify the eerie mood of the scene, while building suspense and anxiety. We know that he’s seen Jeffries and we know that he will try to find him and hurt him, as he had no problem hurting a woman, so he’ll feel no remorse hurting a handicapped. After all, he did murder his own wife.
Rear Window is innovative in that it situates an entire movie and suspense thriller within the confines of an apartment complex. We never leave the premises: we’re at Jeffries’, then in the courtyard, then in Thorwald’s apartment. Although we never leave, we feel like we have, just because like Jeffries, we become captivated by the little world that exists outside of his window. Hitchcock’s ability to take a concept like voyeurism and exploit and change it to reflect the idea that sometimes being nosy can help you catch a murderer is completely unlike anything else. Instead of judging Jeff for being creepy and watching people, we reward him. We identify with him because just like him, we too enjoy looking into the lives of strangers, whether literally or through film.
After growing certain that his neighbor has murdered his wife, Jeffries decides that the only way to verify is by digging up the communal garden and retrieving any proof. However, because he’s restricted by a cast that wraps around his entire leg and reaches up to his hip, Lisa nobly volunteers to do his dirty work for him―After all, not only is she madly in love with him and will do anything to make him happy, which she believes would in turn convince him to marry her, but she has also grown fascinated with watching the murder case suspect and actually wants to know if it’s true, as that’s all Jeffries ever talks about. Jeff sits at his window, using his camera lens to zoom in to Stella and Lisa, who use shovels to dig up the garden, but when they find nothing, Lisa becomes so enthralled with obtaining proof that she decides that it would be a good idea to break into Thorwald’s apartment. Not only is this illegal and stupid on Lisa’s part, but watching Lisa do this further situates us in L.B. Jeff’s position. Jeff grows anxious, mouthing to Lisa to “come on, come on, get out of there”(1:38:28), and the more anxious he gets, the more anxious we get, as experience watching horror films have taught us that nothing good ever comes from breaking into a suspected murderer’s home.
After looking through Mrs. Thorwald’s purse and finding nothing, Lisa grows a little aggravated―did she really just risk her life climbing through a balcony and window in heels for nothing? L.B. and Stella get distracted by Mrs. Lonelyhearts’ attempted suicide that they forget to warn Lisa that Thorwald has returned. Lisa hides, but her hiding ultimately proves inconsequential, as her rookie mistake of leaving evidence that she was there out in the open, propels Thorwald to search his apartment. When he finds Lisa, he pushes her onto the couch and asks her to return what she’s taken, then he pulls her up and begins to strangle her as she screams for Jeff. Jeff’s impotency is highlighted in this scene: not only can he not do his job as a man and help his girlfriend, but he grows more scared for his life than Lisa’s when she starts to scream for help. He covers his ears with his hands, and the shot reverse shot between his cowardice and Lisa’s attack in the dark, shows that Jeff really doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He’s been arrogant, self-centered, and insensitive for the majority of the film, but this scene only emphasizes these traits as he considers doing nothing to help Lisa.
When the cops show up, he feels relieved that he didn’t have to do anything, and Lisa, like the dedicated woman that she is, steals the ring back, and signals to it on her finger, where Throwald notices that she’s signaling at someone. The camera focuses on Thorwald, and when he stares into L.B. Jeffries’s camera, we see those almost-lifeless eyes staring at us. Hitchcock’s use of shadow and then, complete darkness, work well to amplify the eerie mood of the scene, while building suspense and anxiety. We know that he’s seen Jeffries and we know that he will try to find him and hurt him, as he had no problem hurting a woman, so he’ll feel no remorse hurting a handicapped. After all, he did murder his own wife.
Rear Window is innovative in that it situates an entire movie and suspense thriller within the confines of an apartment complex. We never leave the premises: we’re at Jeffries’, then in the courtyard, then in Thorwald’s apartment. Although we never leave, we feel like we have, just because like Jeffries, we become captivated by the little world that exists outside of his window. Hitchcock’s ability to take a concept like voyeurism and exploit and change it to reflect the idea that sometimes being nosy can help you catch a murderer is completely unlike anything else. Instead of judging Jeff for being creepy and watching people, we reward him. We identify with him because just like him, we too enjoy looking into the lives of strangers, whether literally or through film.
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