The place: Hollywood. The year: 1939. With “the search for Scarlett” over, producer David O. Selznick convinces Alfred Hitchcock to make his first American movie an adaptation of Daphne du Maurier’s runaway bestseller Rebecca. One week before shooting begins, Germany invades Poland, and England immediately declares war, throwing the almost entirely British cast and crew into a permanent state of high anxiety. And so the scene is set for one of Hollywood’s most troubled, and eventually celebrated, collaborations - the duel of wills between the fiercely independent Master of Suspense and the equally demanding producer of “the most successful movie ever made.”
Alfred Hitchcock’s first Hollywood movie, Rebecca has more layers than a wedding cake, and can be viewed in a number of different ways. It’s a love triangle. A thriller. A fish-out-of-water story, and a drama about the battle of the sexes. But most of all, I like to think of it as a ghost story where the ghost never appears.
Beautifully filmed in black and white, Rebecca is a slow, atmospheric movie that requires the utmost patience from its viewers, but for those who have the patience, it is a wonderful cinematic experience. From the unforgettable dream sequence that opens the picture (“Last night I dreamed I went to Manderley again...”) to the often-imitated climactic shot of the ceiling falling on Mrs. Danvers, it’s practically the textbook Perfect Movie. Winning the Academy Awards for Best Picture and Cinematography in 1940, it opened Hitchcock’s American career with a bang, and was the only David O. Selznick production that rivalled the success of Gone with the Wind.
But there were so many problems behind the scenes, it’s a miracle the movie was ever made.
Selznick, an extraordinarily controlling producer at the best of times, was determined to rein in what he considered an unforgivable independence in Hitchcock. From Hitchcock’s cavalier treatment of source material to his cutting-edge methods of shooting, it seemed there was almost nothing that Selznick actually liked about Hitchcock’s techniques. One almost wonders why Selznick ever wanted to work with the celebrated director, as he spent almost all of his time vetoing Hitchcock’s decisions.
To make matters worse, as filming on Gone with the Wind drew to a close, it was obvious to Selznick - and everyone else involved with the production - that it was the pinnacle of his career. Selznick would never again make a movie as highly acclaimed or commercially successful as GwtW. This threw him into violent depressions, making him even more difficult for Hitchcock to work under.
Hitchcock, for his part, didn’t want to make Rebecca at all at that point. Although he had considered buying the rights when the novel was first published, he wanted to make “the Titanic” his first Hollywood production. When he was finally convinced to do Rebecca, he openly stated that he considered Daphne du Maurier’s celebrated novel merely a springboard for his own ideas. In a statement to Film Weekly, he said, “I shall treat this more or less as a horror film.”
Somewhat unsurprisingly, du Maurier absolutely hated Hitchcock. She even refused an offer from Selznick to write the script, apparently preferring to take the money and have nothing more to do with the movie.
Casting turned out to be almost as difficult as it had been for Gone with the Wind. For the part of Maxim de Winter, Selznick wanted Ronald Colman, but Colman turned down the part because he thought his fans wouldn’t like him as a murderer. Eventually the filmmakers chose Laurence Olivier, who came with a problem of his own - his girlfriend, one Vivien Leigh, who desperately wanted to play the female lead, but was absolutely terrible for the part. For a long time, none of the principals could agree on a Mrs. de Winter. Eventually Selznick laid down the law and, over Hitchcock’s protests, hired Joan Fontaine. This worked well for everyone but the disappointed Olivier, who treated Fontaine pretty much the same way de Winter treats his new wife in the movie.
In the end, the casting choices turned out to be perfect, even though Olivier was extremely difficult to direct. No doubt the actors’ real emotions went a long way towards making their performances more believable, and Olivier’s haughty attitude and Fontaine’s air of vulnerability play off each other quite effectively. After seeing them together, it’s difficult to imagine anyone else playing either of the roles. Having seen Vivien Leigh’s screen test with Olivier, I’m especially sure that she would have been a very bad choice as the new Mrs. de Winter, although she might have made a nice Rebecca if there had been such a part.
ADAPTATION
“I would rather say very flatly that I think the treatment is pretty bad,
and that it is easier to do a new one than to repair this one.”
– David O. Selznick to Alfred Hitchcock
The adaptation of the novel Rebecca caused endless battles in and around the production offices. As mentioned, Hitchcock’s disrespectful attitude towards source material was enough to alienate Daphne du Maurier. Selznick, however, insisted that the movie would be as faithful an adaptation as possible. He exercised strict control over Hitchcock’s development, at one point writing a venomous ten-page letter that was basically one long smackdown for the director and his intrepid scriptwriters. Amongst other things, he said, “We bought Rebecca and we intend to make Rebecca,” called some of Hitchcock’s proposed changes “cheap beyond words and old-fashioned in the bargain” and “a distorted and vulgarized version of a provenly successful work,” and finally summarized his feelings with the lines quoted above.
But Tinseltown’s Powers That Be disagreed with two of the novel’s most important plot points, and Selznick’s vision of a literal translation was not to be. The pivotal moment of the novel, de Winter’s confession that he had killed Rebecca, was not allowed under the Hollywood Production Code that insisted that no one could ever get away with murder. Selznick, no stranger to censorship battles, fought to keep the murder in the script, but in the end he was forced to make a rather awkward compromise. The movie, in my opinion at least, loses quite a bit of its punch when de Winter explains that Rebecca was accidentally killed during an argument. Of course, the viewer is not required to accept this statement at face value.
Another important point that Selznick was asked to change was the scandalous nature of Rebecca’s relationship with her housekeeper, the formidable Mrs. Danvers. However, Selznick refused to eliminate this crucial plot point, and while it is never explicitly stated in the film, it is patently obvious that the women were indeed lovers. It isn’t exactly a brilliant PR moment for lesbians, as Mrs. Danvers is not only stern and pointedly plain-looking, but completely mad and quite terrifying. But it is well played, and there is a quietly powerful moment when Danvers shows “I” Rebecca’s old nightgown, her line “look, you can see my hand right through it” simply oozing with unspoken emotions.
THE HITCHCOCK TOUCH
“Well, it’s not a Hitchcock picture. The fact is, the story lacks humour.”
– Alfed Hitchcock to Francois Truffaut
In the end, Rebecca was clearly not a standard Hitchcock movie. Selznick’s control over the production was far too tight for Hitchcock to freely express himself. The humour and horror that Sir Alfred was so fond of are toned down considerably, and Selznick would not allow the director to follow his standard procedure of “cutting in the camera.” This was a technique where Hitchcock, always in control of his film, would shoot only the exact scene that he wanted. No lead-in, follow-through, or covering footage. Hitchcock lived by this code, but Selznick hated it with a passion and wanted to supervise most of the editing himself.
In fact, Hitchcock himself told Tuffaut that the movie was not a Hitchcock feature, and seems to have held a low opinion of it for the rest of his life. Some Hitchcock fans, perhaps feeling that the master is always right, share this feeling and dismiss Rebecca from their discussions of his films.
For all that, you can tell almost immediately that Hitchcock directed Rebecca. Although it may not belong to him exclusively, the signs of his touch are everywhere. The repartee in the Monte Carlo scenes is classic Hitch material, as is the controlled, rhythmic chaos of Manderley’s destruction. These climactic moments are immediately reminiscent of the flashlight scene in the Birds and the climax of Rear Window. The effects are different, but the feeling is very much the same.
Another important element, which has been imitated many times since, is Hitchcock’s direction of Mrs. Danvers. Danvers is never seen walking, but revealed in sudden camera movements and cuts instead. The effect of her sudden appearances duplicates Mrs. de Winter’s impressions that the housekeeper is not quite human but almost a supernatural presence, an unpredictable force to be feared and avoided.
MANDERLEY IN MINIATURE
“We can never go back to Manderley again, except in dreams.”
Actually, you could never go to Manderley. The actual house didn’t exist, nor is it based on any real house. It is a complete fabrication with features from dozens of English manors. To capture its many guises on film, two models of the house were built in the studios. One was a huge model (what Peter Jackson calls a “bigature”) that was used for close shots. The other was much smaller, and included the whole surrounding landscape. The opening dream sequence, which follows the road towards the abandoned Manderley, used this model.
(This is another of Hitchcock’s devices. Selznick was very resistant to the idea of using miniatures, fearing that they would not be convincing.)
The interiors are all sets, of course, and it is interesting to note that many of the features of Manderley, such as ceilings and chandeliers, were actually composited special effects drawn onto shots of partial sets.
PRINCIPAL CAST AND CREW:
Director: Alfred Hitchcock
Producer: David O. Selznick
Screenplay: Robert E. Sherwood and Joan Harrison
Photographed by: George Barnes, ASC
Special Effects: Jack Cosgrove
Music: Franz Waxman
Supervising Film Editor: Hal C. Kern
Maxim de Winter: Laurence Olivier
“I”: Joan Fontaine
Jack Favell: George Sanders
Mrs. Danvers: Judith Anderson
Mrs. Van Hopper: Florence Bates
CRITERION REBECCA: THE ULTIMATE FILM-LOVER’S D.V.D.
The Criterion Collection’s DVD release of Rebecca is even more informative than Criterion’s usual work. Of course the print is immaculate - it looks like the film was shot last year, not 65 years ago. It also features a commentary track by “film scholar” Leonard J. Leff. The second disc in the box is absolutely crammed with photos of the production, correspondence between the filmmakers, radio interviews with the stars, complete radio adaptations of Rebecca, screen tests and the like. Finally, the 22-page booklet includes the definitive essay about the movie, George Turner’s “Du Maurier + Selznick + Hitchcock = Rebecca”, which originally appeared in American Cinematographer in 1997. This isn’t a DVD, it’s a film school.
SOURCES:
- Supplemental materials from the Criterion Collection’s release of Rebecca, most significantly:
- TURNER, G., “Du Maurier + Selznick + Hitchcock = Rebecca”. American Cinematographer, 1997 (reprinted in the Criterion booklet)
- Personal correspondence between David Selznick, Alfred Hitchcock and others.
- Screen tests
- Commentary by Leonard J. Leff
And of course, the film itself.
(Despite the extensive supplements on the Criterion disc, I did not want to write something based on only one source, so I tried to get additional information about the film online. This search was a complete waste of time. I could not find a single site that told me anything the Criterion DVD hadn’t already told me, except for a scurrilous rumour that Hitchcock actually told Fontaine that everyone on the set hated her, so that she would be more convincing. In fact, the opposite seems to be true, as several sources mention the director taking extraordinary amounts of time coaching the young actress.)