Rebecca: 1940/1997 Movie Reviews

I don't think it's any secret that I'm a big fan of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca. It's strange, because I'm not usually a fan of descriptive pieces, and Rebecca features a lot of description. Somehow, though, du Maurier manages to keep me hooked, page after page, knowing what will come but still wanting to relive the experience.

I confess: were it not for YouTube, I don't know if I would have been able to watch either the 1940 or the 1997 versions of the movie adaptations all those years ago. Recently, I found a particularly interesting video that does a side-by-side comparison of the two adaptations, and really enjoyed seeing them held up to one another like that:

Honestly, I enjoyed both versions, but while I was perusing the comments section of this video, as one does, I noticed the vast majority of people expressing their love for the 1940 Hitchcock film. The 1997 version, it seems, is quite unpopular. I'd read such opinions before, but always found them quite odd, because personally I lean more towards the 1997 TV miniseries than I do towards Hitchcock's film. (Although, a disclaimer here: I technically have never watched the full 1997 version because I opted for the clean, PG-13 cut of the movie.)

Obligatory spoiler alert warning: read ahead at your own peril if you haven't watched/read Rebecca.

First and foremost, I loved Diana Rigg's portrayal of Mrs. Danvers. There's a sinister, almost hypnotic presence to her character, one that I didn't quite feel in the 1940 adaptation. Every scene with Rigg as Mrs. Danvers, especially in the first half of the miniseries, is mesmerizing. There is a muted danger about her from the very start, and a darkness that clings to her wherever she is in the scene. In fact, the two scenes which are my favourite in the entire 1940 version include the first time the second Mrs. de Winter explores Rebecca's room, and the second time after the fancy dress ball, when she confronts Mrs. Danvers for her role in the disaster that was the party. In both these scenes, Rigg steals the show.

Faye Dunaway, who plays Mrs. Van Hopper, was especially fun to watch, and had an altogether different air to the Mrs. Van Hopper in the 1940 film, who was outwardly more demanding and vicious than Dunaway's. She does a great job portraying the uncaring, fickle, superficial personality that it seems Mr. Maxim de Winter is trying to avoid - the same kind of personality traits he links to his late wife, Rebecca.

Maxim de Winter in the Hitchcock movie was quite difficult for me to watch. Something about his manner felt abruptly rude and not at all affectionate - which I get is the point, but the portrayal just doesn't strike me as that of Maxim. The 1997 adaptation isn't amazing with this, either, but it's a lot better. When Maxim speaks, his tone isn't as condescending and rude as it seems to me to be in the 1940 version, but perhaps that's more a personal qualm than anything else. One scene in particular that I enjoyed was in he 1997 version, after the disastrous ball, the protagonist confronts Maxim, accusing him of still having feelings for his late wife Rebecca and not being able to move on from her, and confessing that she feels her presence everywhere. For the first time all movie, Maxim seems desperate and helpless, and in her anger and hurt the second Mrs. de Winter doesn't seem to recognize him, brushing aside his attempt to speak honestly with her.

I'll admit that the shooting style was perhaps more creative in the Hitchcock version, with some excellent shots that truly added to the atmosphere of the film. Seeing Manderley through the windshield of the car, under the rain and through the wipers, is a good example that comes to mind. With that said, though, there's something very on-point with the conservative filming style of the TV miniseries, something that most definitely fits with the calm, slow, traditional pace of Manderley.

Another thing the Hitchcock version really does great with is making sure you truly feel the stifling presence of Rebecca throughout Manderley. In the morning room, the second Mrs. de Winter finds planners, notebooks, stationaries, etc. - all with Rebecca's name or initials. In the jacket she wears when going out for a walk with Maxim, the handkerchief embroidered with an R for Rebecca. On the beach, her little cottage. In the bay, her sunken boat. Her.

Some reviewers mentioned that the 1997 version wasn't as scary as the 1940 film. But personally, I think the horror with Rebecca lies in the question it poses, and the question that Maxim asks the second Mrs. de Winter when he finally confesses what he did to Rebecca: whether or not she can love him and stay with him after knowing he committed such a crime. 

Obviously this character can, and there's a list of ways in which Rebecca's murder is justified - the fact that she was cheating on Maxim, that she was a double-faced person, that she was cruel to animals, that she had never truly loved any man ever, that she was sick and dying anyway. For me, it still isn't enough to justify her murder, but I think that's, once again, the horror: the second Mrs. de Winter seems to love Maxim so much she's able to reason that his actions were acceptable, and that she can forgive him his crimes - and last I checked, murder was, like, one of the most serious crimes in the book - any book.

I'd love to know what others thought of these two movie adaptations. Overall, I prefer the TV miniseries over the Hitchcock adaptation, though Hitchcock's film does succeed in areas the 1997 version does not. (Also, I was lucky enough to find an Italian version from Rai, and that, too, was a treat to watch!)

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If you haven't already, check out my eerie suspense novella Apartment.