Older movies are a hard sell to make these days. As societies have progressed, the traditions of the iconic films passed have faded into outdated cliches that can leave anyone with a sense of cynicism. I, myself, often struggle to truly enjoy any movie that was released prior to the 1960s. And yet, I have a deep admiration for them. As atypical as it may sound coming from a film fanatic, I deeply admire that of Alfred Hitchcock’s works. I heavily debated whether or not to look at his library from the sixties to the seventies but, aside from the obvious ‘Psycho’, there just wasn’t enough convincing me to ignore the eras of which he shined above all else; pre-‘Psycho’ if you will. So, I decided to break my cut-off point so I could talk about one of my favorites from the esteemed director, ‘Shadow of a Doubt’, a film that is the golden standard of what made Hitchcock earn his title of ‘Master of Suspense.’ A movie that wraps a message of manipulative behavior in a grizzly tale of guilt and desperation. When people point towards the greatest films of Hitchcock’s career, I rarely ever see this one brought up. But to me, it is easily one of his greatest. This is Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Shadow of a Doubt.’
This tale of suspense places its focus on the young Charlie Newton (Teresa Wright), a teenage girl named after her uncle who she cares deeply for. Her family life is seemingly lightened up at the arrival of the eponymous uncle (Joseph Cotten) who has returned to town for conspicuous reasons. Charlie couldn’t be happier to see her uncle, but there seems to be something as Uncle Charlie appears to be overly evasive, trying to rid the house of newspapers and his constant attempts at distracting the family of his sudden arrival. The young Charlie slowly begins to question her uncle’s behavior, and this once smitten behavior begins to turn to suspicion as she begins to connect her uncle to a murder that happened in his home town. The younger Charlie has her perception torn apart as she is desperate to tell her family of the truth, but her uncle catches on to this and threatens to harm Charlie if she ever tells them, even guilt-tripping her into the idea that she would be responsible for her mother’s sadness at the revelation. Charlie is left desperate as she tries to continue on as normal, but her uncle is always looming over her from the shadows.
Hitchcock’s style has been so ingrained into the minds of most people today that many won’t even realize that this very style has laid the ground works for so many thrillers today. Hitchcock’s infamous reputation is well-earned here as well. Taking a small setting and turning it into a personalized prison of torture, Hitchcock takes the audience and places us into the identity of the terrified Charlie. There is a slow build as the movie begins with uncle Charlie arriving to the train station as a thick, black smoke trail surrounds the station as if to signal a dark omen. Slowly, we begin to learn more and more about the mysterious uncle, becoming just as unnerved as the main character. This romanticized view that Charlie has of her uncle is chipped away at this inescapable truth of what he has done that the viewer finds that synchronization with how Charlie feels. The film is very clever at how it gives the audience just enough information for us put the pieces together. The fear and anxieties that we naturally feel is compartmentalized into the setting; a house that holds a potential killer, but is underlined by the stark reality that it may be a close family member. Hitchcock brilliantly touches on these feral fears that plague even the most confident minds.
The two leads of the movie are fascinating caricatures of two different states of mind. The teenage Charlie is a representation of childhood innocence, while uncle Charlie is more representative of the darker reality that our minds will instinctively push away. Charlie’s romanticized perception of her uncle is perfectly parallel to how we, as children, will mindlessly hold our heroes high on a pedestal, often forgiving them for any heinous actions they may commit. It’s surprisingly comparable to much of the stigma that happens today with how people often look at celebrities as friend-like figures. In this situation, Charlie refuses to see the darker reality until it’s thrown directly in her face. Uncle Charlie is given an air of uncertainty from the beginning, but he tries to distract the audience just as much as his niece. Upon the actual revelation of his crime, he is consistently presented in a threatening way. He acts an angel of death, leering over his niece’s shoulder, surrounded in shadows. We see him the way that Charlie does, the fear in punctuated. Uncle Charlie represents that realist approach that many will attempt to push away. The movie presents the idea that you have to acknowledge the inadequacies of life no matter how hard that reality is. Hitchcock is using the character archetypes he knows best and uses them to signify reality in a fantasy-like way.
Due to this movie being released in an era full of heavy film censorship, Hitchcock would have to bury his darker underlying themes beneath the surface. We were far from the age of experimental film making and directors were held back by just how much they could show. This film very subtly, and not so subtly, portrays themes of incest abuse. Perhaps this isn’t something you were considering when beginning to read this review, but one can not help but make comparisons to this sensitive subject. Right from the first interaction between Charlie and her uncle, you get the sense that the relationship is more than simply familial. Charlie is obsessed with her uncle to the point that she clings on to him at every free moment, this uncomfortable comparison is enforced by uncle Charlie’s flirtatious behavior around her. But upon the revelation of uncle Charlie’s crime, this allegory then becomes more indicative of an abusive relationship. As is the case for incest abuse in real situations, uncle Charlie is shown to be very manipulative in his treatment of his niece, going as far as to threaten her life if she tells anyone of his secret. The young Charlie realizes just how terrible her uncle is, finally breaking free of this lie she was convinced of. This desperation for her to tell the truth but being controlled by her abuser is incredibly similar to how these types of relationships actually play out. The film never straight up tells us that the relationship is incestual, but merely uses the subject of murder as a way to frame it in an underhanded way.
I previously mentioned that I don’t see this movie brought up enough when talking about Hitchcock’s greatest films. While this may not be up to the caliber of his golden years, (mid 50’s to early 60’s) I still think that it excels high above his other movies of this era. It taps into carnal fears that lie deep in the burrows of our minds and dares to tackle subject matter that was not often explored at its time. The movie, like a lot of pre-60’s movies, has certainly aged in many regards. There is very outdated dialogue and gender portrayals, a forced romantic subplot that I felt unnecessary and its pacing can feel very slow. Many of these issues are purely down to the age of the film, but I can look past these issues due to its incredibly strong story and characters. It isn’t as grand as some of Hitchcock’s other films, but that’s exactly what I love about it. It still manages to be dark an unnerving in such a small capacity. It is very difficult to recommend a movie of this age, it’s the main reason I kept my cut-off date as early as 1960, but there are just so many golden-age movies I can easily talk about that I wish to cover in the future. Though it may be hard to recommend this to a casual movie-goer, I do insist that you check this one out. Trust in Hitchcock.
Side note: I wanted to talk about Psycho, but everyone and their grandmother has discussed it and I just can’t endure that repetition.
Written review by C. Johnson.