Rebecca is the story of a young woman who falls in love with a widower while working as a companion in Monte Carlo. Maxim de Winter is rich, charming, and the pair fall fast in love. However, Maxim’s first wife, the glorious and elegant Rebecca died tragically in a boating accident a year prior. The second Mrs. de Winter worries about how she compares to her predecessor. Mrs. Danvers, the creepy Rebecca-worshiping housekeeper, doesn’t help her fit in at Maxim’s family grand estate Manderly. But things go from bad to worse when a sunken boat is recovered in the bay, and it isn’t empty.
What makes Rebecca, both film and book, unique is the way that certain characters are presented to audiences. Firstly, the narrator is not the titular character. In fact, the young woman that becomes the second Mrs. de Winter is never named. She spends the film being out of place, so it’s fitting that we don’t know her true name, only the labels that others’ give her.
Some adaptions of Rebecca choose to have her voice or parts of her face shown. The 1997 miniseries version, starring Charles Dance, Emilia Fox and Diana Rigg, has the audience see Rebecca’s piercing eyes and hear her voice as she shouts at Maxim. Personally, I think that it is far more effective to not know anything about her appearance. Your mind filling in the blanks is always better at creating fear, and like the second Mrs. de Winter you should be afraid of Rebecca.
In Hitchcock’s film, Maxim instead says that he shoved Rebecca during the climactic fight. She fell, hit her head, and died. This slight change allows Maxim to stay on the side of “good.”
Rebecca does have a villain with a strong physical presence, the dour and obsessive Mrs. Danvers. I enjoy Judith Anderson performance, and I focused on it for a paper in college. While Laurence Oliver and Joan Fontaine do well as the leads, it is Anderson that makes Mrs. Danvers iconic. The moment she steps on screen, you know she’s bad news. But Anderson gives Mrs. Danvers dimension. She is the only character to show genuine grief for Rebecca, and clearly loved her a great deal. Whether that love was familiar, friendly, or romantic is up to your own interpretation.
Hitchcock’s Rebecca would go on to win two of the eleven Academy Awards it was nominated for, Best Picture and Cinematography. Your mileage may vary on the importance of the Oscars, but Rebecca was worthy of its awards. The film is an excellent example of trusting the audience to create their own mental image of what cannot (or should not) be shown on screen.