Alfred Hitchcock’s first American production may have been a frustrating experience for the director, but that hardship produced his most professionally-lauded work. Hitch did *not* get along with hands-on producer David O. Selznick, but history looks fondly upon the big boss and there’s little question his imperious oversight kept _Rebecca_ on the path to a Best Picture Oscar; Selznick’s second in a row after _Gone With the Wind_. Steel sharpens steel, as they say, and the fact that neither of these guys liked taking orders probably ensured that only the best ideas won out in the end.

Subsequently, _Rebecca_ isn’t as overtly mysterious as Hitchcock’s later, more popular work, but that’s not to say it lacks for suspense. Instead, the twists and turns arrive with nuance, more dramatic for their implications than their big, shiny spotlight moments of revelation. We get one or two of those, too, but they’re well-earned and hit harder for the restraint. The story, of a quiet, cheerful young woman who’s swept up in a whirlwind romance and marries into great wealth, kept me constantly guessing. Though dapper and easygoing, not to mention the master of a palatial estate, her new beau is also a widower, and the shadow of his ex-wife’s influence looms over the mansion like a sticky storm cloud. The new bride quickly realizes that the head maid has judged her insufficient by comparison, but her real concern (and ours, by proxy) is how she stands in the eyes of her husband. His evaluation seems to ebb and flow by the minute, as we all begin to work out the tangled web of unspoken truths and boldly-proclaimed lies that still define their faded marriage.

From plotting to acting to direction and artistry, this one’s a true work of art. So much so that I mourn the boxy 1.33:1 aspect ratio that was standard at the time, for robbing us of that much more Hitchcockian cinematography. I noticed a few era-specific production quirks - particularly the obvious projected backgrounds behind driving scenes, and even some of the walking scenes - but despite those minor niggles, it’s a magnificent story, expertly executed for the screen, and a well-deserving award winner.