Alfred Hitchcock wasn't called the Master of Suspense for nothing

Rating: 10/10 (14 May 2009)

Alfred Hitchcock's theory about suspense was that there was no horror in the final moments of something terrible, only the ominous anticipation of it. And his impressive collection of masterpieces and the many mimickers—those successful and unsuccessful—who imitated his techniques prove that he was correct. Alfred Hitchcock was known as the Master of Suspense. "Rear Window" is one of the reasons why.
Hitchcock's frequent leading man, Academy Award-winner James Stewart stars as L.B. Jeffries: a cynical wheelchair-bound photographer who finds himself with yet another week of lying beside his apartment window with nothing to do but look out at his neighbors both down below and across the street. He becomes particularly interested in a salesman (Raymond Burr) who lives in the apartment building parallel to his' with a bedridden wife. And he as well as his fiancée (Grace Kelly) become particularly interested when they notice that the salesman is making odd trips at night, hiding sharp tools such as saws, and the sick wife has conveniently disappeared.
Alfred Hitchcock seemed to have a fascination with the crime of murder. His most famous films which include "Rope" (1948), "Vertigo" (1958), "Dial M for Murder" (1954), and "Psycho" (1960) all relate to it in one way or another. Thus "Rear Window" was the quintessential vehicle for his vision of a two-hour journey of merciless suspense.
"Rear Window" is, believe it or not, foundationally a very simple film. Most of the movie is shot from and takes place in James Stewart's apartment overlooking the neighborhood. Everything that happens occurs within a bird's-eye view of his window. Another one of Hitchcock's theory was "less is more" and at least in the case of this 1954 masterpiece, he was right again. Even with such a simple scenario and concept, Hitchcock does not fail. It's amazing how intense this movie becomes especially within the last hour, where Hitchcock utilized all of his horror theories, techniques, ideas, and formulas. Like he did in "Vertigo" (1958) four years later, Hitchcock used his leading actor James Stewart as an everyman personification so that the audiences identified with him, saw what he saw, thought what he thought, and thus we felt suspicious when he was suspicious, curious when he was curious, and scared when he was scared. And nearing the end of the film, Stewart is sweating and gripping furiously into the armrests of his chair. Guess what? So are we.
But on top of this, Hitchcock also installed what he tried to do with every film. He tried to put in a story and characters into his films. He always liked to show audiences a familiar setting (in this case, New York), relatable characters, and then shock us with relentless and unexpected malice. James Stewart does not merely portray the peeping tom looking out the window, but a human being with problems beyond having a cast-bound leg.
To be frank, Stewart's character isn't that likable of a man. He's cynical, pessimistic, inexplicably rude, sarcastic, and vindictive. And the fact that he's stuck in a wheelchair in a sweltering apartment room for six (going on seven) weeks does not help his personality any. And yet we identify with him for we do see his more tender sides without him being transformed into an emotional mope like many too-be-changed characters today seem to. He's a three-dimensional human being, not a stick figure, played magnificently by the man whose continuously considered one of the greatest actors who ever lived alongside names such as Humphrey Bogart and Laurence Olivier.
It is a real shame that Grace Kelly only made a few films in her short, but brilliant career, for she always seemed to end up with films of the highest caliber and gave such mesmerizing performances. She's great here as well and we also identify with her and see her problems, but these do not get fully in the way of the murder mystery that soon overtakes the full focus of the story.
Is this Alfred Hitchcock's best film? Some like to think so. I personally would actually have to go with "Vertigo" (1958) because it evoked more thoughts, emotions, and sympathy from the deepest regions of my soul, but "Rear Window" is most certainly not far behind. Hardly a day goes by where I don't look back on the first time I started watching it late at night and found myself gripping my bed sheets and my chest hurting from a hammering heart two hours later.