Netflix’s adaptation of Rebecca is visually stunning, featuring breathtaking cinematography and an impossibly attractive cast that remains captivating even without sound. Before watching the film, I wasn’t familiar with the actor Jake Steele, who resembles a real-life Ken doll, but apparently, he’s quite the sensation? (Apologies; I’m just not into that!) His co-star, Emma Green, is the perfect blend of January Jones and Emilia Clarke. There’s definitely a lot to admire here.
However, my recommendation to watch Rebecca—preferably with a friend or partner—goes beyond the aesthetics. The film is steeped in a fascinating history that makes it a treat for cinema enthusiasts (hence the need for a viewing companion).
Overview of the Plot
Here’s a brief overview: The plot follows a seemingly unremarkable young woman from a modest background who falls for Maxim de Winter, a handsome British aristocrat. After a whirlwind romance, they marry, and he takes her to his grand seaside estate, Manderly. Upon her arrival, she encounters the cold and formidable Mrs. Danvers, the loyal housekeeper who was devoted to Maxim’s late wife, Rebecca. The memory of Rebecca looms large over the estate, and whispers of the “accident” that led to her death create an unsettling atmosphere. Rebecca was adored by everyone, setting an impossibly high bar for the new Mrs. de Winter. As the story unfolds, the protagonist begins to realize that there are deeper, darker secrets at play.
Initial Impressions
I approached Rebecca without any prior context, and my first reaction was, “Well, that was enjoyable. It felt almost like I was reading a novel with its clever twists!” Yet, I found myself with several questions: How could this so-called “lady’s companion” afford such exquisite clothing? What truly draws her to Maxim beyond his wealth? (Because honestly, unless owning a flashy car counts, he has little personality.) Does the main character even have a name? Why is it never mentioned? And, should I be rooting for her to get away with murder?
Curiosity led me to dig deeper. I discovered that Rebecca is actually a novel by Daphne du Maurier, published in 1938 to great acclaim. Its success prompted film producers to scramble for the rights to adapt it. Herein lies the reason I recommend this movie—both the adaptations and the original book—especially for a cozy movie night with fellow film buffs.
Historical Context
Interestingly, the 1940 version was Alfred Hitchcock’s directorial debut in the U.S. and remains his only film to win the Academy Award for Best Picture. Over the years, Hitchcock distanced himself from the film due to frustrations with censorship rules that forced him to alter dialogue and visuals. The Hays Code, a set of strict moral guidelines governing U.S. films from 1934 to 1968, significantly impacted American cinema.
One of the most intriguing aspects to explore is the contrast between Hitchcock’s 1940 adaptation and Ben Wheatley’s 2020 remake. The original had to navigate strict Hays Code violations related to “sexual perversion” and graphic violence. In the book, Rebecca’s death is a gunshot wound, but in Hitchcock’s rendition, due to censorship guidelines, it is softened to an unfortunate accident. This alteration substantially shifts the narrative’s dynamics and the character responsible for her demise.
Hidden Themes
Did I not warn you this would be some fascinating stuff?
Another intriguing layer I initially overlooked—thanks to my notoriously poor gaydar despite being gay—is the possibility that Mrs. Danvers had unrequited feelings for the late Rebecca. I interpreted her obsession as mere loyalty. There are even scenes where she admires Rebecca’s wardrobe, recalls brushing her hair, and holds up a sheer negligee, commenting on how transparent it is.
Reception of the Remake
The reviews for the remake have been harsh. Outlets like The New York Times, NPR, and The Verge have criticized it, and I understand their points. Personally, even with my modern aesthetic preferences, I found Hitchcock’s black-and-white version superior to the more technologically advanced remake. In the original, the unnamed protagonist is more timid, Mr. de Winter displays a darker mood, and Mrs. Danvers comes across as creepier and vengeful. I also preferred much of the original’s dialogue.
That said, I did enjoy the remake; my appreciation grew even more when I realized the rich history behind the film—including the hidden queer themes—that I could dive into and analyze.
Conclusion
So, grab a bunch of popcorn, settle into your comfy chair with your favorite film nerd, and prepare for an evening filled with movies, a book, and perhaps a thorough exploration of Hollywood’s history with censorship regarding sex, violence, and queerness. Enjoy!
Summary
In Netflix’s visually captivating adaptation of Rebecca, a young woman marries a wealthy aristocrat and moves to his estate, where the haunting memory of his late wife looms large. The film invites viewers to consider its historical context and the impact of censorship on storytelling. With intriguing character dynamics and hidden themes, it’s a great pick for movie enthusiasts looking for depth beyond the surface.