Why do I think it's going to be hard for me to contain my enthusiasm about these movies, you ask? Well, it's because we're starting off with my favorite movie. Ever. Of all of them. The one I would chase through the gates of hell, and fight my way back to heaven with.
See? I'm gonna get loopy writing this. So let's stop introducing it and start talking about it.
HOW THIS WORKS
Step 1) I pick a movie.
Step 2) I tell you about the movie.
Step 3) I tell you what we're looking for in a double feature movie.
Step 4) Another movie!
Step 5) Victory!
Rear Window
1954, Directed by Alfred Hitchcock
I was 12 years old when I first saw Rear Window, and I immediately knew it was something special in my life. I don't think it became my favorite movie that day - at the time I'm not sure I even had a favorite movie, though it might still have been The Adventures of Milo and Otis (It's really cute, you guys!) - but I immediately identified with it on a personal level. It felt like what I wanted my life to be, with a few cosmetic changes. It was also the first Alfred Hitchcock film I saw, and that set me loose to keep visiting the man who would become my favorite director forever.
I was always looking for strange things as a kid. I've talked in the past about my (most likely imagined) run in with a UFO, and how easily influenced I was by ghost stories and the idea that something strange could be going on around us. You might say I had a wild imagination, but really I was just hoping for something a bit more interesting than going to school and working on our hog farm with my dad. So I started watching everything around me a little more closely. The problem was we lived in the middle of the country; there wasn't much to look at that wasn't pigs and corn.
This is not a problem that was shared by L.B. Jefferies, a.k.a. Jeff (James Stewart), the lead character of Rear Window. Jeff lives in busy New York City, and there's a lot going on in his world. His problem is that he's stuck in a wheelchair with a broken leg - which means that he can see what's going on around him, but when it comes to his ability to interact with it he might as well be living in the middle of nowhere too.
Looking out the rear window (Hey, that's the title!) of his apartment, Jeff can see into the lives of most of the neighbors that live across the small courtyard below. They're a unique bunch of individuals, ranging from the ballet dancer Miss Torso to the eternally longing Miss Lonelyhearts to the songwriter who gets his inspiration "from the landlord, twice a month." None of these names or personalities are the ones these characters claim, they're just what Jeff sees and assumes while sitting in a chair all day. For all we know, Miss Torso might be a really flexible astrophysicist. But we aren't seeing her world through her eyes. We're seeing it through Jeff's.
Jeff's one room world (we know he's got a kitchen and a bedroom, too, but we never see them) isn't completely boring, because there are two truly amazing characters that keep coming into it. The first is his nurse, Stella (Thelma Ritter), a fast talker who's ready to contradict Jeff at every turn, seemingly because she just really enjoys being right. Jeff has a similar problem - at one point he's accused of making an argument "intentionally repulsive" and replies by chiding that he's "only trying to make it sound good" - so his relationship with Stella becomes a wonderful back and forth that gives the film life quickly during the opening scenes.
The second character who graces Jeff's apartment with her presence is his girlfriend, Lisa Carol Fremont, a character brought to life by the unequaled talent and beauty of Grace Kelly. And when she first brings that talent and beauty to the screen, in a slow motion shot of her face swooping in to wake a sleeping Jeff with a kiss - My God. My heart stops every time I see that shot. It's the most beautiful moment in the history of film.
Lisa Carol Fremont might be a gorgeous fashion model, but - like Stella - she's quick with her words too. She argues with Jeff as well, mostly because he's convinced he needs to drive her away. What is it with all these men in movies who try to keep Grace Kelly out of their lives?
(Personal note: Having loved this movie most of my life, I like to think I learned a lot of my personality from Jeff. And while there are so many things about him that I love - his passion to never give up, his humor, his willingness to stand up (but not literally, there's a cast) against what's wrong - the one thing I wish I hadn't picked up from him was this tendency to assume you're a waste of others' time. Then again, maybe I already had that, and maybe that's part of why I relate to him so much? Who knows? Let's get back to the movie, why are we wasting time on me?)
The problem that arises from Jeff looking out that window is that he begins to believe that a salesman across the way (Raymond Burr, who many believe Hitchcock made to look like the former boss he hated, David O. Selznick, for this role) has murdered his wife. We know Jeff hasn't been sleeping right, and we know he's cooped up and hungry for adventure, and we even know he's a little bit depressed (again - he's trying to push away Grace Kelly). So it's hard to believe that he's right...but then again, this is an Alfred Hitchcock film.
It's not the argument about whether or not Jeff is right that makes Rear Window so perfect to me, though that's a real fun bit of the picture. Jeff also brings a smug friend who happens to be a detective (Wendell Corey) into the apartment, and that character seems to keep popping up in the film just to make us think Jeff really is just a guy with an overactive imagination. Lisa and Stella end up taking Jeff's side, which makes the banter with the detective even more fun when they are involved, but it's the moments where Jeff and Lisa realize they might be wrong where the movie really soars for me.
I've talked a lot about the arguing and the banter in this movie, and that's because to me this might be the film with the snappiest, most perfect dialogue ever written. I can't tell you how many throwaway lines in this film are part of my every day language. I'll call out an "ordinary run of the mill Wednesday" from time to time and point out that I'm looking for something "dramatically different" when I'm seeking a movie to watch. Sometimes I borrow some of Stella's homespun philosophy on relationships when I'm feeling blue. I might laugh more watching Rear Window than I do watching any other film, because even after all these years the dialogue is still so punchy to me. Heck, I wanted to make sure I had a quote right in my brain just now - I did, don't doubt me - and the cool thing is that I just typed two words from it into Google because I was pretty sure no one has ever used those two words together like Rear Window did. Sure enough, that quote was the first thing that popped up.
Getting back to those doubts I just mentioned - there's one piece of dialogue in the film that has blown my mind for nearly 25 years. Lisa and Jeff have just had their hopes of catching the murderer attacked again by that reasonable detective, and as they fall silent Lisa speaks up...
"Jeff, you know if someone came in here they wouldn't believe what they'd see? You and me with long faces, plunged into despair, because we find out a man didn't kill his wife. We're two of the most frightening ghouls I've ever known."
I think I fell in love with words the moment I heard Grace Kelly say that. I always liked reading and writing as a kid, but I never though that writing could produce something like that. The dread that lives in that statement, the perfect combination of sadness and humor, the self-awareness to know that you made a mistake and you're not quite sure who you are right now, but also knowing that your feelings right now are kind of a farce. Lisa and Jeff really haven't harmed anyone in this moment, but their whole situation has just been made to appear totally ridiculous and Lisa (the wisest character in the film, by far) can see right through it. John Michael Hayes got an Oscar nomination for this script, and this line alone makes me think he should have won the award and had it renamed after him. It's so perfect that it makes me say farcical things too. If that makes me a frightening ghoul, I'm freakin' proud to join the club.
I said it earlier, and I'll say it again - this is an Alfred Hitchcock film. You buy the ticket, you take the ride. And you know that ride's not going to end with everything "wrapped up in a neat little package," like the episode of The Simpsons that parodied this film (Bart of Darkness, Season 6, Episode 1) would have us believe. As Hayes and Hitchcock drive us to the final reveal there are plenty of twists and bumps, and every one of them will make people like Jeff and I and any other well-intentioned voyeur with a passionately paranoid mind grin and prepare for the next one. Rear Window keeps us involved in a murder mystery not by taking us on a cross country adventure - Hitch saved that for North by Northwest and other films - but instead by making us jump to conclusions inside our own minds as we try to understand how all the pieces of this potential murder could fit together.
When you're a slightly ghoulish dreamer that can't go anywhere - either because you're trapped in a wheelchair or because you're a preteen on an Iowa farm - those are the kind of adventures you get to go on. Apologies to the UFOs and the ghost stories, but when I met Rear Window I realized it was the kind of adventure that - while completely implausible - could actually happen. And it inspired me to try to be quicker, to be more observant, to choose my words for their impact and not necessarily their meaning, just in case I need to make my point "sound good." I'm not sure if I understood this all when I was 12 - I've been rambling so much that I might read this back to myself and not understand it now - but I know Rear Window set my life on a new course that night.
And that's probably why Rear Window will always be my favorite movie. It makes me want to always be prepared for anything, even when the only thing I can do might be to offer a humorous retort or a crazy theory.
One thing I learned quickly after I saw Rear Window is that it's one of the most copied films ever made. I don't mean that in a bad way - like the man said, "imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" - but it does make picking a double feature to go with it a different kind of challenge. A lot of times it's hard to pick one movie to go with a movie, this time it's hard for me to pick just one.
- The basics of Rear Window are basically their own subgenre by now. Someone sees something, or thinks they see something, and then no one believes them. The part where a lot of films that borrow this set up fail is that they show the audience too much. You lose that joy that I got from following Jeff and Lisa's theories when you do that. Like I said above - the mystery needs to be in the lead character's head.
- The other thing that makes Rear Window so unique is Jeff's predicament. He's alone and he can't do anything. We don't necessarily need to duplicate his injury, but we need a film where the lead really can't act most of the time and where he's slightly unreliable. He needs a couple of people to bounce his ideas off of, obviously, but we can't give him too much help.
- More than anything else - we need a movie that doesn't just feel like a rehash of Rear Window. We need a movie with Hitchcock's spirit. I'm looking for something by a director and writer that has a good understanding of Hitchcock. And there's a guy out there who fits that description who might not be the one you're thinking of.
How can I follow up my favorite movie and not feel like I'm taking a gigantic step backward? Because I'm picking a movie by a director whose experience with Hitchcock started a bit like mine.
Road Games
1981, Directed by Richard Franklin
Like me, Richard Franklin was 12 years old when he saw his first Alfred Hitchcock film. Unlike me, that film wasn't Rear Window; it was Psycho. That doesn't matter though, he became devoted to Alfred Hitchcock too. The Australian born Franklin took a more direct approach to his fandom - he became a filmmaker. He ended up making his way to the University of Southern California in 1967, and during his time at the Los Angeles based university he managed to get Alfred Hitchcock himself to come host a screening of one of his films, Rope. Then, Hitchcock invited Franklin to come watch him work on set while he was making one of his final films, Topaz.
If that paragraph makes you insanely jealous, you're not alone. Imagine being a young filmmaker and not only being able to talk film with Alfred Hitchcock but also being able to watch Alfred Hitchcock work. I know a lot of people will warn you about meeting your heroes, but man I would love to have been in Richard Franklin's shoes. Franklin went on to direct the long overdue Psycho II in 1983, and the work he did making what appeared to be an unnecessary cash in into a truly entertaining film is enough to earn him my eternal admiration. And that's not even the best tribute to Hitchcock he made.
Franklin returned to his home country after school, and worked his way up to making features by the end of the 1970s. In 1981 he made one of the most expensive Australian films of the time - Road Games.
The simple way to describe Road Games is as "Rear Window in a Semi," but that's a disservice to Franklin's film. The set up is similar - Quid (Stacy Keach), who's driving a truck full of pork across Australia, begins to believe that another driver on the road is killing hitchhikers - and starts to try to solve the case. Unlike Jeff, we see in the opening scenes that this unnamed man - Quid refers to him as simply "Smith or Jones" - is a killer, but we also know that Quid doesn't know this.
Keach will probably never be listed next to James Stewart on many lists of actors in cinema history, but his performance as Quid is a one of a kind treat. Like Jeff, Quid's mind is open to all kinds of possibilities. He's been sleeping in his truck, the only soul he has to talk to most of the time is his pet dingo, and as he drives across the country he starts to come up with stories about the people he passes on the road. Some of these characters draw a direct parallel to Rear Window's - though Franklin's picture of how newlyweds act in 1981 is a bit more direct than Hitchcock's was in 1954 - which makes it even easier to see the influence Hitchcock had on this director.
But Quid is an angrier (If you call him a truck driver he'll snap back with "Just because I drive a truck does not make me a truck driver.") and more active character than Jeff. He's obviously more physically active - he can get out of the truck and walk around, but he's still facing a deadline that keeps him confined to the truck for most of the film - and he's also more mentally active. Road Games gives Quid a couple of people to talk to - most notably an American hitchhiker played by Jamie Lee Curtis (another significant Hitchcock connection, since she's the daughter of the star of Psycho) that Quid playful refers to as "Hitch" - but Keach is at his best when Franklin puts him behind the wheel and lets the thoughts that are running through his mind fill our ears.
As viewers, we know Quid is right about Mr. Smith or Jones. But watching him go through the facts and hearing what's going through his mind, especially once Hitch becomes part of the game of cat and mouse between the two drivers, pushes the tension in Road Games to wonderful levels. Franklin comes up with a brilliant trick to render Quid immobile during the final showdown, and by that point we don't need the mystery about whether or not he's right to keep us caught up in this film.
When you look at the films that have imitated Rear Window, there are examples that resemble it more directly. One of the most recent examples is Disturbia, a procedural 2007 thriller starring young Shia LaBeouf. Credit where due, Disturbia didn't drive me crazy as a Rear Window wannabe. Any movie that allows David Morse that much sinister screentime is worth something. But it's a movie where someone who loves Rear Window is going to look at it and say "Oh, it's just a movie that's doing Rear Window." That's not a crime, and it's kind of exciting. I remember seeing the trailer for Disturbia the first time and, after an initial moment of shock, thinking how cool it was that people were still wanting to be like my favorite movie more than 50 years later. But the cool thing about Road Games is not that it wants to be like Rear Window; it's that it wants to be like Rear Window and still manages to be funny and ghoulish and thrilling and actually feel like something Alfred Hitchcock would have made.
Richard Franklin got a direct line to Hitchcock while learning his trade, and he was able to use it perfectly in this film. He didn't just make a film that reminds me of my favorite film, he made a film that reminds me of my favorite film and manages to be one of my favorite films on its own merits as well.
I don't know if it's a requirement to be 12 years old to fall in love with Hitchcock and decide to devote a large portion of your life to loving Hitchcock's films, but I'm glad Richard Franklin was able to do it and you probably don't need me to say by now that I'm glad that it happened to me. Rear Window has been a defining piece of my personality - heck, it's a defining piece of my life - for more than two decades, and Road Games just happened to follow along behind it and become a perfect companion piece to it.
This might be my favorite double feature of all-time, guys. As Stella would say, Rear Window and Road Games are two great movies about "a pair of maladjusted misfits," and they make me want to be one of those, too.
Keach will probably never be listed next to James Stewart on many lists of actors in cinema history, but his performance as Quid is a one of a kind treat. Like Jeff, Quid's mind is open to all kinds of possibilities. He's been sleeping in his truck, the only soul he has to talk to most of the time is his pet dingo, and as he drives across the country he starts to come up with stories about the people he passes on the road. Some of these characters draw a direct parallel to Rear Window's - though Franklin's picture of how newlyweds act in 1981 is a bit more direct than Hitchcock's was in 1954 - which makes it even easier to see the influence Hitchcock had on this director.
But Quid is an angrier (If you call him a truck driver he'll snap back with "Just because I drive a truck does not make me a truck driver.") and more active character than Jeff. He's obviously more physically active - he can get out of the truck and walk around, but he's still facing a deadline that keeps him confined to the truck for most of the film - and he's also more mentally active. Road Games gives Quid a couple of people to talk to - most notably an American hitchhiker played by Jamie Lee Curtis (another significant Hitchcock connection, since she's the daughter of the star of Psycho) that Quid playful refers to as "Hitch" - but Keach is at his best when Franklin puts him behind the wheel and lets the thoughts that are running through his mind fill our ears.
As viewers, we know Quid is right about Mr. Smith or Jones. But watching him go through the facts and hearing what's going through his mind, especially once Hitch becomes part of the game of cat and mouse between the two drivers, pushes the tension in Road Games to wonderful levels. Franklin comes up with a brilliant trick to render Quid immobile during the final showdown, and by that point we don't need the mystery about whether or not he's right to keep us caught up in this film.
When you look at the films that have imitated Rear Window, there are examples that resemble it more directly. One of the most recent examples is Disturbia, a procedural 2007 thriller starring young Shia LaBeouf. Credit where due, Disturbia didn't drive me crazy as a Rear Window wannabe. Any movie that allows David Morse that much sinister screentime is worth something. But it's a movie where someone who loves Rear Window is going to look at it and say "Oh, it's just a movie that's doing Rear Window." That's not a crime, and it's kind of exciting. I remember seeing the trailer for Disturbia the first time and, after an initial moment of shock, thinking how cool it was that people were still wanting to be like my favorite movie more than 50 years later. But the cool thing about Road Games is not that it wants to be like Rear Window; it's that it wants to be like Rear Window and still manages to be funny and ghoulish and thrilling and actually feel like something Alfred Hitchcock would have made.
Richard Franklin got a direct line to Hitchcock while learning his trade, and he was able to use it perfectly in this film. He didn't just make a film that reminds me of my favorite film, he made a film that reminds me of my favorite film and manages to be one of my favorite films on its own merits as well.
I don't know if it's a requirement to be 12 years old to fall in love with Hitchcock and decide to devote a large portion of your life to loving Hitchcock's films, but I'm glad Richard Franklin was able to do it and you probably don't need me to say by now that I'm glad that it happened to me. Rear Window has been a defining piece of my personality - heck, it's a defining piece of my life - for more than two decades, and Road Games just happened to follow along behind it and become a perfect companion piece to it.
This might be my favorite double feature of all-time, guys. As Stella would say, Rear Window and Road Games are two great movies about "a pair of maladjusted misfits," and they make me want to be one of those, too.
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