Confrontation and Defenestration: A Shot Analysis of Hitchcock's Rear Window
The 1954 Alfred Hitchcock film Rear Window tells the story L.B Jeffries (played by James Stewart) who, after breaking his leg on the job as a photographer, must entertain himself while holed up in his apartment by looking out his window into the lives of others. An observer (at least for most of the movie), his life is not affected by the lives of the others he watches. Only at the end, when the world of his window and that of the other windows collide, does he become involved in the story unfolding, and his life even becomes endangered. We reach the climax of the film when he is confronted by the suspected murderer, Lars Thorwald (played by Raymond Burr), who, quite literally, pushes Jeffries out of his own window into the world of everyone else. It pays to give attention to the build-up to this climax, the confrontation itself. There are several shots here which symbolize Jeffries’ transfer from observer to participant, and every detail is related to that transfer.
In the previous scene, Thorwald looks into Jeffries’ window and see Jeffries, a reversal from most of the film. Frightened, Jeffries asks his detective friend, Tom Doyle (Wendell Corey), to come and see the evidence he has, and to hurry. Jeffries looks back at Thorwald’s apartment, but it is dark. He can’t see inside. He gets another call, thinking it’s Doyle, says that he thinks Thorwald has left his apartment, but no one is on the other end. Jeffries realizes that the phone call is from Thorwald, who now knows where he is and that he knows about Thorwald. We wait in anticipation as we hear the thump-thump of Thorwald’s walk up the steps to Jeffries’ apartment. Jeffries struggles to find a spot to hide, but is restricted by his cast. He waits by the window, his only weapon his camera and bulbs, something he only used previously in the film to view through, but not to use to photograph. Now his tool for voyeurism will be his tool of involvement. The light is turned off in the hallway. Thorwald appears at the door.
Everything in this scene is a study in opposites. Thorwald stands at the door, his body slightly left of center in the frame, the closed, dark door on his left. We can only see his legs in the light, emphasizing his mobility. We see just a bit of his shoulders, emphasizing his massive frame and his ability to easily crush Jeffries. This is why he takes up so much of the frame. The shot is from Jeffries’ perspective, at the window looking up at the monster at the door. Contrast this to the shot of Jeffries from Thorwald’s perspective from the door. Jeffries sits at the window, his body slightly right of center in the frame, the open, moon-lit window on his left. We can only see his legs in the light, emphasizing his lack of mobility. We see a slight glint of light from his camera, right in the center of the frame. It is his only hope. The shot is from Thorwald’s perspective at the door, looking down at the much smaller Jeffries, who does not take up the frame at all. We, the audience, anticipate a murder about to take place, because the compositions of these two shots are so unbalanced. Lighting is unbalanced, as are the characters in them.
Thorwald stands apart from the door, indicating he is now in the apartment, while Jeffries sits in the area of the frame with the window, foreshadowing his defenestration. His position at the window indicates his wish to remain an observer. However, his back is now to the window, his face to his door. As indicated previously, his camera no longer takes on the role of viewer, but of action. This is reminiscent of the opening scene, when we find out how he got his cast. “I got myself half-killed for ya,” he says to his editor, Gotteson, on the phone, while watching the other people. “And you reward me by stealing my assignments.” The editor protests, “I didn’t ask you to stand in the middle of that racetrack.” Jeffries responds, “You asked for something dramatically different. You got it.” The editor says back, “So did you,” referring to his cast and confinement to his apartment. A bit later, Jeffries says, “If you don’t pull me out of this swamp of boredom, I’m going to do something drastic.” “Like what,” asks Gotteson, as the shot shows Jeffries beginning to view the unhappily married Thorwalds. Jeffries responds by talking about marriage, something he talks about with disdain. The foreshadow is there, indicating his drastic action will involve the Thorwalds. We see several things in that scene for sure, but principal among them is that he got a broken leg in the first place by getting involved with his camera in the middle of something dangerous, a racetrack. And he is about to get a second one by doing it again. This is why the camera takes a center position in the shot.
There is no music, only a howl of wind from the open window. Throughout the movie, music is playing, whether from the pianist or the radio. All of that audio ceases to exist, indicating that all others do not play a role in what happens within Jeffries’ window. Only when Jeffries is being pushed out his window, do all the other neighbors look out theirs. All audio is diagetic. These shots are cuts, which is supposed to be sudden and jarring. In both shots, the actors are still in their respective places, and the camera stays still because it is from their respective perspectives (say that five times fast).
For the shot we are looking at, there is no dialogue. Thorwald says nothing, and Jeffries says nothing. The silence emphasizes the lack of lighting. For Thorwald, the lighting (or lack thereof) is his friend - no one can see him from the other windows as he confronts Jeffries. For Jeffries, the lighting (or, once again, lack thereof) is his friend - his only defense is to momentarily stop Thorwald through the use of his camera flashes. No dialogue occurs as we realize that the scene operates and hangs on the lighting. Eventually, both will be thrown into the light as Thorwald lunges at Jeffries, pushing Jeffries out the window.
Works Cited
Rear Window. Dir. Alfred Hitchcock. Paramount, 1954.
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