Monday, November 30, 2009
Living in a Rear Window
Rear Window may seem like a simple story upon first glance and, by today’s standards, may not sound too terribly original (most likely because the premise has been blatantly ripped off so many times since. Disturbia, anyone?). But also because we have lived our whole lives in front of a television, a movie screen, and so many other “windows”, so much so, that we have structured our lives around what happens in these “windows”. When we step back from the film, Hitchcock’s genius shows and the story is just a poignant and relatable as it was back when it was first released, possibly even more so. In many ways, Hitchcock appears ahead of his time, speaking directly to us in our era of Big Brother-esq reality shows, Twitter updates, and Blair Witch style cinema. Voyeurism is alive and thriving within our culture and what we watch tells so much more about us than we’d like to think. Hitchcock plays with this human condition, giving us two relatable characters that start to observe the happenings of their neighbors. Jeffries and Lisa aren’t bland characters, but it is hard to imagine where they would be without the many characters that surround them. An obvious illustration of this would be the piano player in the studio apartment. What first appears to be the film’s soundtrack is actually coming from him. His practicing provides the music for key scenes in the film, especially romantic exchanges between Jeffries and Lisa. He is a contributing player to the soap opera that is Jeffries’ apartment building. We only get glimpses of his life and what troubles he might have, so it is up to our imaginations to decipher what he is going through. The music that he is playing (or not playing in certain scenes) is a great help. Like any show, there are the bit players whom only show up to give our characters a certain boost. The newlywed couple in the apartment close to Jeffries seems to solidify his assumptions on marriage and family life. Of course, the window shades are closed most of the time, only to open when the husband wants a little break from his wife. Jeffries only sees the negative because that is all that is presented to him. The window shades act as a filter to what he sees of marriage (a metaphor that can be easily applied to our media-obsessed culture). Here we are hinted at the danger of voyeurism. Isn’t it strange how little of the other family we see(the one with child in the upper right corner). They may be perfectly happy, but since Jeffries doesn’t see them, the positive gets ignored. Then we have the Thorwals, who are the product of Hitchcock’s clever storytelling. Sitting at our windows, we watch for some marvelous or scandalous event to take place, usually having to settle for the ordinary. Hitchcock throws us a curve ball with the Thorwals. Casually looking upon his neighbors, Jeffries actually witnesses (sort of) something of grave importance: a murder. Furthermore, this act is constantly juxtaposed with the ordinary happenings of the surrounding neighbors (the ballet dancer’s dinner parties, the pianist’s get-togethers) making it difficult to believe that something so horrible has actually happened. The murder of Mrs. Thorwal and the following investigation of Mr. Thorwal is what brings our two main characters closer together in the end. We are constantly taught to mind our own business and only address our own lives, but Hitchcock obviously believes in the opposite. He wants us to be actively engaged in what is happening in our respective “windows” because no matter what we think, it does affect us. It is as poignant a message today as it has even been.
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