It’s a thrilling, funny, and passionate ride that not only proves to be quite beneficial for the protagonist, but is also a higher form of entertainment for us.
And to be honest, I don’t think I quite get it yet.
It’s just one of those rare movies where the effects of its eeriness sneak upon the viewer, creating what I can only describe as a feeling of deep and uncanny discomfort.
Thanks to Hitchcock’s superb camera work that smudges the line between the main character and the audience, Jeff’s obsession becomes our obsession; his excitement, our excitement; his fear, our fear. Everything Jeff feels, we feel it too – even Grace Kelly’s tantalising seduction. All of it makes Rear Window one the most gripping films I’ve ever seen, fuelled by two of the most powerful suspense ingredients: doubt, and suspicion.
It’s the story of an american spy (Devlin) who is forced to lead the woman he loves (Alicia) into the hands of a group of Nazis, so that she can retrieve the needed information. This not only generates a situation of eminent danger for Alicia, it also creates a devastating conflict within Devlin that will result in the kind of bitterness we see in the chosen line, Dry your eyes, baby; it’s out of character. Bergman and Grant demand every bit of our attention with a love affair that is far more intense than any Austen or Brontë classic. And their passion is not in the grand gestures, but in all the looks filled with lust and longing, all the subtle and brief touches, all the sharp intakes of breath.