Last night, after the kids went to bed, I decided to watch the beginning of Hitchcock’s Shadow of a Doubt. This was a tactical error, as I have never in my life managed to watch part of a Hitchcock film.
Shadow of a Doubt tells the story of young Charlie Newton, played by Teresa Wright, as she suspects her beloved Uncle Charlie (Joseph Cotten) of some dark secret. The suspense comes in when he realizes she knows things he wants to keep hidden. The supporting cast, particularly Patricia Collinge as Mrs. Newton and Hume Cronyn as the nosy neighbor, were quite good, selling the world of the film. But it is the relationship, the tension, between the two Charlies that drives the film forward.
One of the things I find most fascinating about the films of the 30s and 40s is the presentation of romantic or sexual relationships. Not only were the mores of the time different, the Production Codes hampered filmmakers. Describing the complexities of adult relationships required a code — which audiences of the time could decipher. I find myself on murkier ground when I watch these films.
Yet Shadow of a Doubt doesn’t run into Production Code issues. All the relationships are either sanctioned or criminal, so it’s pretty straightforward. No, what I find confusing are the standards of the time. I blinked, wondering if I was reading the scene right, when young Charlie — a high school girl, perhaps 15 years old — and the much older detective Jack Graham are flirting. It turns out I was right, they were flirting, and, moreover, this courtship is condoned by everyone. There’s somewhere around a fifteen year age gap, there. But a high school girl of the era was expected to marry, and a stable older man with a decent job was a good catch.
The relationship between Charlie and Uncle Charlie is more subtle, more nuanced, and more complex. Her worshipful adoration of him seems perfectly appropriate, and his initial fondness is avuncular. But the ring he gives her? I’m stymied. It seems a bit . . . much, a bit romantic, for the relationship. Am I just reading the scene wrong? Or is it supposed to be a bit off? At this point in the film Uncle Charlie’s guilt or innocence is not established. Is the ring-scene supposed to make us feel uneasy or not? Later, Charlie seems to take pleasure from the fact that her friends presume Uncle Charlie is a beau. This strikes me as perfectly appropriate — that a teenage girl with an attractive older relative might harbor some romantic fantasies about same. But I can’t tell from the scene of Uncle Charlie is encouraging this or not.
It’s odd.
Later on, after the secrets are out and the game of cat-and-mouse is in full swing, the affections and possible romance of the earlier scenes is twisted into betrayal and a trapped sort of anger. Teresa Wright does an amazing job with these scenes — Charlie’s ideals, her faith in people, her trust in herself and her judgment are all in pieces around her. It’s a fine performance.
Addendum:
According to Wikipedia, Teresa Wright was one of the few early people to hold a line with the studio system. She had a five-year contract with MGM, yet she managed to get the following clause into her contract:
“The aforementioned Teresa Wright shall not be required to pose for photographs in a bathing suit unless she is in the water. Neither may she be photographed running on the beach with her hair flying in the wind. Nor may she pose in any of the following situations: In shorts, playing with a cocker spaniel; digging in a garden; whipping up a meal; attired in firecrackers and holding skyrockets for the Fourth of July; looking insinuatingly at a turkey for Thanksgiving; wearing a bunny cap with long ears for Easter; twinkling on prop snow in a skiing outfit while a fan blows her scarf; assuming an athletic stance while pretending to hit something with a bow and arrow.”
Fascinating.
Filed under: MoviesTV, Review Tagged: | joseph cotten, production code, shadow of a doubt, teresa wright
Hitchcock loved his Freud, and the screenplay is by Thornton Wilder. Of course the sexual undercurrent between the two Charlies is deliberate. I’ve always loved Joe Cotten’s wry comment on the role in his memoirs. Quoth he: I have often read that I received the Academy Award by an actor that year. This is due to obvious carelessness on the part of the vote counters and a double-cross by that wretchedly wonderful actor Paul Lukas, who actually did win. P.S. I wasn’t even nominated.
I definitely think it’s supposed to be off. In a sense, they could get away with MORE weird subtext in those Code films, because there was no possibility of it being acknowledged so you could pretend it wasn’t happening. That’s a theory anyway.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen this movie so I don’t remember it well, but I definitely remember the creepiness. And that clause in Wright’s contract is hilarious — on purpose, I think. I hope she wrote it herself.
@Selena You always supply the BEST context and background for things. Thank you!
@Caroline Oh, yes, the Code subtexts are some of my favorite things ever. I own some pre-code movies, and they are good, but . . . they aren’t as FRAUGHT. I think it’s a creative trade-off, between showing something or between leading the audience up to the brink and letting them wonder.
Well, Hitchcock’s ways around the Code are famous. There’s the big kissing sequence from Notorious which was all about Code-teasing since Cary Grant’s and Ingrid Bergman’s lips did never touch longer than the prescribed seconds, but everything else. *veg*
Paradoxically the most old-fashioned thing to watch today is the last but one scene in in Psycho where a psychiatrist spells the thing about Norman and his mother out for us. Way more sledgehammery than anything before, and where the breakdown of the Code was not useful, as the film really didn’t need the the explanation. (I think we all understood about Norman and his mother at this point anyway…)
@Selena It’s my opinion that part of the reason that scene in Psycho doesn’t work is because we, as a culture, have internalized those sorts of explanations, and filmmakers no longer need to include them … Though I definitely agree with you that Norman and his mother needed no exposition at that point!
About how Hitch taught him to play Uncle Charlie (who was JCs first villain role):
“Whenever I see a policeman, I simply go all to pieces.”
“I suppose the sight of a policeman brings out a tinge of guilt in all of us,” I said.
“I’m not talking about a tinge,” HItch replied. “I’m talking about real panic.”
“What do you you suppose Uncle Charlie feels whenever he sees a policeman?” I asked.
“Oh, entirely different thing,” said Hitch. “Uncle Charlie feels no guilt at all. To him, the elimination of his widows is a dedication, an important sociological contribution to civilization. (…) Forget trying to intellectualize over Uncle Charlie. Just be yourself. Let’s say the key to our story is emotive counterpoint; that sounds terribly intellectual. See you on the set, old bean.”
@Selena That is awesome!
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