(This is why I never look out my window anymore…)
CAST: James Stewart, Grace Kelly, Thelma Ritter, Wendell Corey, Raymond Burr, Judith Evelyn, Irene Winston
DIRECTOR: Alfred Hitchcock
WARNING: Some SPOILERS and old-fashioned peeping tom antics straight ahead…
In 1991, Ira Levin, writer of such classic novels-turned-classic films like ROSEMARY’S BABY, THE STEPFORD WIVES, and THE BOYS FROM BRAZIL, published another suspenser. Titled SLIVER, it revolved around an emotionally-wounded divorcee who moves into a sleek Manhattan highrise to start a new life. Unfortunately, it turns out that the building has been plagued by mysterious fatal accidents involving its tenants. Worse, it also appears that the place is bugged everywhere - and I mean, everywhere - with hidden video cameras. Even the units themselves. Hence, the special emphasis on the word, “everywhere.”
Various quarters touted the book as modern version of REAR WINDOW, chronicling as it does the heroine’s descent into web of electronic voyeurism, mystery, and murder. Does the book live up to its comparison with that Hitchcock classic? Well, it is certainly fast-paced and suspenseful, and delves into the same thematic territory that REAR WINDOW did 37 years before. While SLIVER the novel may not have the warmth and emotional center of its role model, its mystery/thriller aspect more than measures up.
Then SLIVER's film rights were reportedly purchased by Paramount Pictures for mega-producer Robert Evans, with uber-screenwriter Joe Eszterhas adapting the book for the silver screen. At first glance, it looked like Ira Levin’s latest would follow its literary brethren’s path and become a classic film, as well. After all, Robert Evans was also the producer of another Levin adaptation that did extremely well: ROSEMARY’S BABY. Meanwhile, Joe Eszterhas had penned the gripping (if slightly implausible) JAGGED EDGE and the smash-hit guilty pleasure BASIC INSTINCT . And with newly-hot BASIC INSTINCT star Sharon Stone signing on for SLIVER’s lead role, it looked like a trifecta of cinematic nirvana.
Unfortunately, as we all know by now, SLIVER was not to become the classic that ROSEMARY’S BABY and THE STEPFORD WIVES are. For starters, Eszterhas made the error of changing the plot to fit a more sex-oriented BASIC INSTINCT-type of mystery, instead of the compelling Hitchcockian analysis of voyeurism that the book was. Also, the production was plagued with problems, including: (1) clashes between Stone and co-star William Baldwin; (2) clashes between the MPAA and the producers over the film’s graphic sexual content, which purportedly included a full frontal nude shot of Baldwin; (3) an early test screening that was panned by audiences, necessitating (4) rewrites and re-shoots that significantly changed the story and the film’s original provocative ending.
SLIVER the movie opened # 1 at the box-office for the weekend of May 21, 1993, pulling in $12.1 million in its first three days. This was considered a solid opening. Unfortunately, SLIVER would go on to under-perform in the U.S., grossing just north of $36 million. It was overseas where it was a bonafide hit, especially Japan. Ultimately, the film garnered a combined domestic and international tally of over $115 million. Whew.
SLIVER’s eventual cinematic success doesn’t change the fact that, unlike the novel, it cannot be considered to be a modern-day version of REAR WINDOW. It is far too focused on Sharon Stone and William Baldwin’s sexual gymnastics, and less focused on the mystery/voyeurism angle that made the book such a compelling read. Had Joe Eszterhas been more faithful to the book, SLIVER might be able to stand tall next to REAR WINDOW, and function as a high-tech and effective complement to that classic. Even then, though, REAR WINDOW would still be ahead of SLIVER for virtue of it being first. And being helmed by Alfred Hitchcock.
Like SLIVER, the protagonist of REAR WINDOW is vulnerable. However, unlike Carly Norris (Kay in the book) who is ultimately rendered fragile by her hidden emotions, L.B. Jeffries (James Stewart) is physically hampered by a broken leg. Stuck in his NYC apartment in a wheelchair as he waits for his bones to mend, Jeffries is so bored that he’s taken to spying on his neighbors in their courtyard complex with binoculars and high-powered telephoto lens.
It’s gotten so that Jeffries has even nicknamed his neighbors. To wit, there’s: (1) Ms. Lonelyhearts, a chick who carries on animated imaginary dinners with herself (seriously); (2) The Newlyweds, a couple who are forever at it like rabbits, which is gradually killing the husband; (3) Ms. Torso, a ballerina across the way who attracts male admirers the way a pile of shit attracts flies; (4) Dog Lady, a woman who lowers her mutt down to the courtyard everyday via a basket; (5) Mr. Nutty Composer, a musician who is forever tying to nail down a certain tune; (6) Mr. Grumpy Salesman, a guy who looks like he needs to really get laid; and (7) Mr. Grumpy Salesman’s Invalid Wife, a gal who is bed-ridden but might as well have the voice of King Kong, judging from the way she effectively browbeats her husband, no matter where he is standing in the apartment.
When Jeffries isn’t spying on his neighbors, he’d doing the following: (1) getting lectured by his nurse, Stella (Thelma Ritter), for being a Peeping Tom; (2) getting lectured by his glamorous girlfriend, Lisa (Grace Kelly), for being a Peeping Tom; (3) and - uh - well, I guess that’s pretty much it. Suffice it to say, he spends the rest of the time when he’s not getting lectured, basically proving Stella and Lisa absolutely correct.
Then something happens to awaken the slumbering detective in Jeffries: he notices that Mr. Grumpy Salesman’s wife is no longer haranguing Mr. Grumpy Salesman. I wish I could tell you it’s because the couple’s visits to a marriage counselor have paid off. Alas, not. The reason the daily browbeating of Mr. Grumpy Salesman has ended is because… his wife has suddenly vanished. That is, Jeffries doesn’t see her through the window anymore. For all intents and purposes, it looks like she’s just packed up and gone.
Other strange things begin to happen. Jeff notices that Mr. Grumpy Salesman is now leaving and returning to his flat at odd hours of the night. Also, through the window, Jeff glimpses hubby wielding trunks, ropes, and saws. Then there’s the fact that it appears the wifey left behind her favorite handbag, jewelry, and make-up. It’s this last bit that finally convinces Jeff, Lisa, and Stella (especially Lisa and Stella) that something, you know, fucked up might have happened to wifey. After all, what kind of chick goes on a trip and leave behind her favorite handbag, jewelry, and make-up?
Unfortunately, Jeff’s buds on the police force basically chalk up their observations to - what’s the phrase - overactive fucking imaginations. Just to humor the Peeping Tom, though, they look into the matter. Evidently, Mr. Grumpy Salesman - whose real name is Lars Thorwald - claims wifey is in the country visiting relatives. And, oh by the way, what fucking business is it of theirs? Needless to say, as with most Hitchcock films, the cops are about as helpful as a cupful of water tossed onto a forest fire.
Realizing they’re pretty much on their own, Jeff, Lisa, and Stella turn into a Hardy Boy and his two Nancy Drews. They hatch a plan that includes: (1) searching the courtyard garden for wife’s remains, (2) searching Thorwald’s flat for evidence, and (3) not getting killed while they’re at it.
Will they succeed? Did a murder really occur? Or are they just three bored dipshits who should really get a hobby? Or is Thorwald really a cold-blooded killer? Will he turn the tables on them? Let me put it this way… Given that our trio of amateur sleuths, individually, are: (1) a crippled Peeping Tom photographer, (2) a glamorous clotheshorse/fashion plate, and (3) a cranky nurse… my bet is on the killer.
Find out for yourselves if I’m wrong. But don’t forget to close your curtains first. Jeffries could be watching. Fucking pervert…
BUT, SERIOUSLY: Modern audiences may look at REAR WINDOW and think, “Big Deal. This is just like DISTURBIA…” That comes from a desensitization to the hundreds of mysteries and thrillers that have proliferated through the decades, and they may think that REAR WINDOW isn’t too different from them.
My rebuttal to that would be simple: Alfred Hitchcock did it first - and he set the standard that many later thriller directors would march by, In fact, it’s hard to find a genre director whose style and body of work isn’t somehow influenced by the Master: John Carpenter, Brian De Palma, Dario Argento, John McTiernan, David Fincher, Guillermo Del Toro, Wes Craven, Phillip Noyce, Curtis Hanson, Christopher Nolan… I could go on forever, here.
But REAR WINDOW also works better than most latter thrillers, not only because of Hitchcock’s technical genius, but also his innate understanding of the human heart and psyche. He spends the first part of the film developing the various relationships of the main characters, as well as sketching out the connections between the folk living outside in the courtyard. This provides a rich emotional and philosophical tapestry to serve as a backdrop for what could’ve been just a very effective murder-mystery, giving it additional depth and relevance.
Hitchcock understands that suspense is inextricably linked to character. If you care about someone before they set forth on a mission and become imperiled, then you will be on the edge of your seat until you they resolve their crisis. With Jeffries, Lisa, and Stella, we have a trio of protagonists worth rooting for. As they slowly realize the enormity of their situation, we are with them every step of the way.
Hitchcock also understands that building tension is like watching a gathering storm. With REAR WINDOW, he adds little dollops of unease as the first act moves to the first turning point, like the initials drops of cold rain. Then in the second act, when it becomes apparent something is wrong, those drops increase, gradually building in intensity. By the time the third act rolls around, we have a steady downpour of tension - as it becomes clear to our three heroe what they must do to solve the mystery. The storm has arrived.
The cast is terrific. James Stewart perfectly embodies Jeffries as a restless and charming non-conformist whose boredom pushes him into a situation completely unexpected and unforeseen. Stewart beautifully captures his dawning realization that he may have just stumbled upon a murder. Similarly, Grace Kelly makes Lisa’s transformation from soigne fashionista to resourceful detective entertaining to watch. Seeing the pride in Jeffries’ eyes as he discovers his girlfriend has some serious chutzpah to her, after all, and falling in love with her all over again because of it, is one of REAR WINDOW’s great pleasures.
Finally, Thelma Ritter makes Stella a refreshing voice-of-reason. It’s her that makes the most trenchant observations about how voyeuristic our culture has become, to the detriment of our personal relationships and our own personal well-being. I wonder what she’d say in this day and age of reality shows, tabloid trash, and You Tube?
Verdict: REAR WINDOW is a classic. It’s an elegant, thoughtful, intelligent, suspenseful, and - ultimately - moving thriller about how we all - in the end - like to watch… Bravo, Hitch.
