REAR WINDOW: 4K UHD Blu-ray re-issue (Paramount, 1954) Universal Home Video

Rear Window (1954) is Alfred Hitchcock’s masterpiece of claustrophobic suspense. Whether intentionally or ‘un-’, the picture shares in the traditions of the Agatha Christie ‘locked room’ mystery/thriller, the screenplay by Hitchcock favorite, John Michael Hayes (the first of their four collaborations), by far their most intimate and deftly handled. Hitchcock’s camera never leaves the Paramount soundstage, excavated below street level to accommodate the massive ‘outdoor’ set, complete with facing facades of various apartment buildings, a flower and grass-lined courtyard, and the apartment of invalided newspaper photog, L.B. Jeffries (James Stewart), whose casual spying on the neighbors from his wheelchair leads to all sorts of wild speculations…some, terrifyingly on point. Despite its sheer size, and the clever way it was lit for four distinct times of day (early morning, mid-afternoon, sunset, and a rainy midnight), this set is otherwise quite remarkable. What is impressive is the subtly nuanced way Hitchcock manages to sustain our passion for his storytelling, maneuvering the camera to create an all-inclusive backstreet where anything is possible – even, murder most foul.  Basing their designs on 125 Christopher Street in Greenwich Village, set designers, Hal Pereira and Joseph MacMillan Johnson took six weeks to build L.B. Jeffries' claustrophobic world, ironically, the largest of its kind, complete with a massive drainage system to syphon off the rain during a staged thunder shower sequence in the movie.

But to fully appreciate Rear Window is to first recall how skillfully Hitchcock uses sound in the movie, not merely to reflect action on the screen, but as an off-camera conduit to advance the plot ahead of what we are seeing. As example, the piercing scream of an unseen female, momentarily to jostle L.B. Jeffries from his awkward slumber in the dead of night. Did Jeffries really hear it? Certainly, we did. But Stewart plays the moment from that vantage of uncertainty, having only just been awakened out of a dead sleep. And as he begins to question his sanity in the moment, with no further clues to advance the theory a crime has just been committed, we reason that perhaps the scream was a MacGuffin, not a reality. Hitchcock also uses sound to inform us in humorous ways – the rumba tempo of a Latin ditty coming from a radio in the courtyard, met with a pan/tilt up into Jeffries’ loft apartment as he is vigorously being massaged by his shoot-from-the-hip physiotherapist, Stella (Thelma Ritter). While Hitchcock’s start in motion pictures dated all the way back to the silent era, his adoption of this ‘then’ burgeoning ‘new’ technology, and his eagerness to be experimental with it, quickly set him apart as an uber-clever storyteller. Hitchcock preferred sets to location shooting for the absolute control such a hermetically sealed work environment could provide. Hitchcock also took special care in crafting the movie’s soundtrack. Apart from Franz Waxman’s title music, the rest of the songs in the picture are diegetic – meaning, they are heard as extensions of the fictional world and not created merely to heighten our emotional response to a particular scene where the characters themselves likely do not experience the same effect.

Hitchcock drew from the Paramount stock catalog for his inspiration here. So, Bing Crosby’s 1952 hit single from the movie, Road to Bali, To See You Is to Love You, is played during Jeff's observations of Miss Lonely-hearts (Judith Evelyn) – the middle-age spinster whose apartment faces his own. We also hear excerpts from Nat King Cole’s 1950 smash, Mona Lisa, and Dean Martin’s That's Amore (1952), the Leonard Bernstein/Jerome Robbins’ ballet from Fancy Free (1944), Richard Rodgers’ 1932 hit - Lover, and, M'appari tutt'amor, from Friedrich von Flotow's 1844 opera Martha (1844). The one new song in the picture is ‘Lisa’ – written by Waxman, with lyrics from Harold Rome, first heard orchestrally at incomplete intervals, presumably as its composer (Ross Bagdasarian) in the artist’s atelier, kitty-corner from Jeff's, is struggling to write a hit pop tune. In the final moments of the movie we get the completed song as Jeff's gal/pal, fashion model, Lisa Fremont conceals her copy of Harper’s Bazaar behind one of her boyfriend’s ‘more serious’ publications.  Waxman, who had scored Rebecca (1940), and, Suspicion (1941) – both, Oscar-nominated, as well as The Paradine Case (1947) for Hitchcock, rounded out his tenure for the master of suspense with these scant offerings, creating a jazzy riff for the main titles as the curtain rises (literally), on L.B. Jeffries’ rear window.

Hitchcock once professed that for him, cinema was more a ‘piece of cake’ than ‘slice of life’. Indeed, in the intervening decades, he remained one of the most – if not the most – venerated directors of his generation. By the mid-1940’s, his name was synonymous with suspense. Droll, sophisticated, uber-witty, and exacting, Hitchcock was undeniably in a class apart. His ‘where’s Waldo-esque’ cameo in Rear Window comes as the composer invites guests to his atelier to celebrate the inauguration of his first big tune. Hitch’ arrives as just one of the invited, rather slyly offering a glance at the camera. Rear Window is based on Cornell Woolrich's 1942 short story 'It Had to Be Murder', and, in hindsight, proved to be a watershed picture for Hitchcock in many ways. First, it was his foray into widescreen – Paramount, not quite ready to debut their patented VistaVision process, but offering a cropped 1.66:1 matte widescreen presentation in its stead. Second, it reunited Hitch’ with his favorite cool blonde, Grace Kelly (the two having worked previously on Dial M for Murder). It also provided Hitch’ with the opportunity to work again with one of his favorite leading men - James Stewart. Third, it illustrates, perhaps more perfectly than any other Hitchcock movie, the validity of the ‘locked room’ drama.

In Rear Window, L.B Jeffries is a somewhat sexually repressed magazine photographer, laid up with a leg he broke while on assignment. To pass the time, Jeffries spies on his neighbors: the voluptuous Miss Torso (Georgine Darcy), forlorn Miss Lonely-hearts, a frustrated composer, and, frisky newlyweds, Harry (Rand Harper) and his unnamed wife (Havis Davenport), among others.  However, Jeff's attentions shift to the spurious comings and goings of one Lars Thorwald (Raymond Burr) after Thorwald’s wife, Anna (Irene Winston) suddenly vanishes from their apartment without a trace in the middle of the night. At first, both Jeff's girlfriend, fashion model, Lisa Fremont and his physical therapist, straight shooter, Stella believe he has begun to suffer from cabin fever. But then there are Thorwald’s unexplained bits of business slyly observed by all through Jeff’s rear window to suggest a more sinister conclusion. Did Lars Thorwald murder his wife? It isn’t long before Lisa, itching for excitement, also the opportunity to prove to Jeff she is his kind of gal, decides to play amateur sleuth and get to the bottom of things – a move that nearly gets her killed in the process.

Rear Window is a miracle of screen economy. We never leave the confines of that gigantic three-sided indoor set built in Paramount’s Stage 11. Like so many of Hitchcock's most fondly remembered thrillers, there is more than one story unfolding inside L.B. Jeffries' modest apartment. The central narrative is undoubtedly focused on resolving the mystery behind Anna Thorwald's disappearance. But there is also a fascinating subtext of male sexual frigidity. Lisa has already decided Jeff is her guy - a curious choice indeed, given his modest income and her affinity for expensive clothes; his middle-age angst pitted against her youthful maturity, and finally, his absolute aversion to wedding chimes Lisa hears peeling madly for both of them.  Jeff cannot think of a single reason not to marry Lisa. She is perfect. Perhaps, that is his problem. Jeff knows he is not. Hitchcock plays with the variables that agitate Jeff’s apprehensions – the sight of a middle-aged couple (Frank Cady, Sara Berner), incapable of seeing eye to eye on anything, despite their established life together, or the newly-wedded stud, Harry, in the apartment closest to his own, already drained of his sexual energies by a seductively cooing wife asking for more, and finally, Lars having murdered Anna because he could no longer tolerate her chronic hypochondria, already involved with another woman; these are not exactly ‘shining examples’ of male/female bliss on which Jeff can hang his own optimism for a future with Lisa. It makes no difference. By the final fade out, Hitchcock presents us with Lisa as the enterprising hothouse flower of that rarest sport – the gal, of amiable means and ambition, beauty and brains, having successfully navigated the shark-infested waters of this ‘once’ commitment shy male.

Rear Window’s single disc reissue from Universal Home Video in 4K sports the identical UHD transfer as was included in the Uni 4-pack of 4K remasters from 2019. For these remasters, original restoration elements, supervised by Robert Harris back in the late 1990’s were given a ground-up, bells and whistles upgrade. The overall improvements between the UHD and standard Blu-ray release, dating 2012, are marginal, but distinguished.  In UHD, Rear Window still has ‘contrast’ issues, particularly in the heavily duped main titles. These continue to look digitally harsh despite a considerable uptick in overall improved grain resolution. Colors in 4K are more refined over the Blu-ray edition, with flesh tones looking far more natural. On the standard Blu-ray, flesh tended to lean ever so slightly to a curious hint of jaundice or, conversely, occasionally to appear too orange. Herein, flesh looks…well…fleshy. The overall improvements outweigh the shortcomings. So, don’t feel as though you are buying inferior product, because you’re not. The image advances – just not as spectacularly as one might expect. Some will also poo-poo the fact Uni has NOT included any ‘new’ extras. But frankly, I cannot fault the studio, as it did some wonderful work on their previous ‘Masterpiece Collection’ goodies, of which, virtually all have found their way back here. So, on Rear Window we get John Fawell’s audio commentary, the nearly hour-long doc, ‘Rear Window Ethics’, a featurette with screenwriter, John Michael Hayes, the nearly half-hour docs, Pure Cinema: Through the Eyes of the Master, Masters of Cinema, and, Breaking Barriers: The Sound of Hitchcock, audio of Hitchcock and Francois Truffaut, stills, and, a badly dated trailer. Bottom line: I can’t imagine why you would want to buy the singles when the 4-pack in 4K sells for a fraction of the individual’s price point. But just in case, Rear Window as a single comes very highly recommended. Now, can we just get Uni to remaster The Man Who Knew Too Much in 4K?!?

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

4

EXTRAS

4