by Josh Sewell
Ben Wheatley isn’t known for conventional, middle-of-the-road filmmaking, so in a weird way it’s fitting that his most audience-friendly movie is a story about a new marriage full of secrets, death and a potentially haunted palatial estate. He’s also adapting a beloved novel and following in the footsteps of Alfred Hitchcock, so the degree of difficulty is high (to put it mildly).
Fans of Daphne Du Maurier’s classic gothic romance Rebecca have likely been waiting on Wheatley’s new version (premiering Oct. 21 on Netflix) with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Hitchcock set the bar high back in 1940, so what’s the rationale in tackling the classic again? For starters, thanks to the death of the Hays Code, Wheatley can attempt a more faithful adaptation (well, almost – I’ll get to that in a bit). It’s also geared toward more modern sensibilities, while also appreciating the opportunity to bask in the opulence of the story’s early-20th century setting.
“Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.” That’s both the iconic opening line of Du Maurier’s novel as well as the first words spoken in Wheatley’s adaptation. They’re uttered by the unnamed main character, a young woman (Lily James) who works as a companion for a rich American (Ann Dowd) when she meets the handsome, ridiculously wealthy widower Maxim de Winter (Armie Hammer).
After a whirlwind European romance, the two marry and return to Manderley, de Winter’s massive family estate on the coast of England. She begins to settle into the extravagant trappings of her new life, but her naivete and modest origins mean that she is constantly compared to her new husband’s first wife, the enigmatic and seemingly perfect Rebecca. It doesn’t help that she’s constantly watched and judged by Mrs. Danvers (Kristen Scott Thomas), Manderley’s sinister housekeeper who revered Rebecca and worked for her since she was a child.
As the unnamed protagonist learns more about her husband’s past and the mysterious circumstances surrounding Rebecca’s death, everything she believed about her new, luxurious life is called into question. But if she’s going to survive, she must find a way to free Manderley from the shadow of its former resident.
Wheatley justifies the existence of his adaptation within the first few moments thanks to the gorgeous production design and phenomenal casting. (Although, much like Greta Gerwig’s recent version of Little Women, why does he need to prove we need another Rebecca when we’ve had umpteen different Batman and Spider-Man origin stories in the last 30 years?) James is outstanding in the lead role, and the screenplay (credited to Jane Goldman, Joe Shrapnel and Anna Waterhouse) quickly establishes why the near-penniless character would be so drawn to a life that Maxim de Winter represents.
Considering her work in Downton Abbey, Cinderella, Baby Driver, the Mamma Mia! sequel and Yesterday, I’m baffled that the lovely, endearing actress isn’t a bigger star. She should be a household name by now. Perhaps her terrific work in Rebecca will help, since there’s a good chance Netflix’s platform will allow more people to see her than ever before.
Hammer is also quite strong, proving once again that he was born in the wrong decade. His classic leading man looks would’ve made him a megastar in the 1940s. Instead, in the modern era, he’s figured out that he’s best suited as a dashing, slightly weird character actor in slightly under-the-radar fare. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that his chemistry with James is scorching. The first half of the film is a swoon-worthy romance, which increases the stakes considerably once the story’s creepy elements move to the forefront.
Those are courtesy of the riveting Thomas, who is equally chilling and hypnotic as the villainous Mrs. Danvers. When she’s onscreen, she overpowers anyone else in the scene through sheer force of magnetism. This is a weird awards season for a number of reasons, but I have to imagine she’ll be a major part of the Best Supporting Actress conversation.
Perhaps the most contentious aspect of Wheatley’s Rebecca adaptation will be the somewhat altered ending, which extends the events of the novel a bit and gives the story a more concrete resolution. While some die-hard fans of the novel might take issue with that, in this cynical age I honestly like a movie that wears its heart on its sleeve.
It makes for a satisfying experience, one that I imagine Netflix viewers will appreciate whether or not they’re familiar with Du Maurier’s novel. I’m curious to see how much buzz the film generates when it hits the streaming service next week. I know I’m certainly telling all my English teacher colleagues and book nerd friends about it.
Rebecca is rated PG-13 for some sexual content, partial nudity, thematic elements and smoking.
Grade: A-
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| Courtesy of Netflix |
Fans of Daphne Du Maurier’s classic gothic romance Rebecca have likely been waiting on Wheatley’s new version (premiering Oct. 21 on Netflix) with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Hitchcock set the bar high back in 1940, so what’s the rationale in tackling the classic again? For starters, thanks to the death of the Hays Code, Wheatley can attempt a more faithful adaptation (well, almost – I’ll get to that in a bit). It’s also geared toward more modern sensibilities, while also appreciating the opportunity to bask in the opulence of the story’s early-20th century setting.
“Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.” That’s both the iconic opening line of Du Maurier’s novel as well as the first words spoken in Wheatley’s adaptation. They’re uttered by the unnamed main character, a young woman (Lily James) who works as a companion for a rich American (Ann Dowd) when she meets the handsome, ridiculously wealthy widower Maxim de Winter (Armie Hammer).
After a whirlwind European romance, the two marry and return to Manderley, de Winter’s massive family estate on the coast of England. She begins to settle into the extravagant trappings of her new life, but her naivete and modest origins mean that she is constantly compared to her new husband’s first wife, the enigmatic and seemingly perfect Rebecca. It doesn’t help that she’s constantly watched and judged by Mrs. Danvers (Kristen Scott Thomas), Manderley’s sinister housekeeper who revered Rebecca and worked for her since she was a child.
As the unnamed protagonist learns more about her husband’s past and the mysterious circumstances surrounding Rebecca’s death, everything she believed about her new, luxurious life is called into question. But if she’s going to survive, she must find a way to free Manderley from the shadow of its former resident.
Wheatley justifies the existence of his adaptation within the first few moments thanks to the gorgeous production design and phenomenal casting. (Although, much like Greta Gerwig’s recent version of Little Women, why does he need to prove we need another Rebecca when we’ve had umpteen different Batman and Spider-Man origin stories in the last 30 years?) James is outstanding in the lead role, and the screenplay (credited to Jane Goldman, Joe Shrapnel and Anna Waterhouse) quickly establishes why the near-penniless character would be so drawn to a life that Maxim de Winter represents.
Considering her work in Downton Abbey, Cinderella, Baby Driver, the Mamma Mia! sequel and Yesterday, I’m baffled that the lovely, endearing actress isn’t a bigger star. She should be a household name by now. Perhaps her terrific work in Rebecca will help, since there’s a good chance Netflix’s platform will allow more people to see her than ever before.
Hammer is also quite strong, proving once again that he was born in the wrong decade. His classic leading man looks would’ve made him a megastar in the 1940s. Instead, in the modern era, he’s figured out that he’s best suited as a dashing, slightly weird character actor in slightly under-the-radar fare. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that his chemistry with James is scorching. The first half of the film is a swoon-worthy romance, which increases the stakes considerably once the story’s creepy elements move to the forefront.
Those are courtesy of the riveting Thomas, who is equally chilling and hypnotic as the villainous Mrs. Danvers. When she’s onscreen, she overpowers anyone else in the scene through sheer force of magnetism. This is a weird awards season for a number of reasons, but I have to imagine she’ll be a major part of the Best Supporting Actress conversation.
Perhaps the most contentious aspect of Wheatley’s Rebecca adaptation will be the somewhat altered ending, which extends the events of the novel a bit and gives the story a more concrete resolution. While some die-hard fans of the novel might take issue with that, in this cynical age I honestly like a movie that wears its heart on its sleeve.
It makes for a satisfying experience, one that I imagine Netflix viewers will appreciate whether or not they’re familiar with Du Maurier’s novel. I’m curious to see how much buzz the film generates when it hits the streaming service next week. I know I’m certainly telling all my English teacher colleagues and book nerd friends about it.
Rebecca is rated PG-13 for some sexual content, partial nudity, thematic elements and smoking.
Grade: A-
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