Shadow of a Doubt (1943)
Directed by Alfred Hitchcock

Film Review

Shadow of a Doubt is quite possibly the most perfectly constructed, certainly one of the darkest, of the suspense thrillers that Alfred Hitchcock directed during his time in Hollywood.  Hitchcock in fact cited the film as his personal favourite, and it's perhaps not too difficult to see why.  With its juxtaposition of the cosy world of an ordinary American family and the twisted mental hinterland of a dangerous psychopath, where the most menacing character in the story is also the most sympathetic, the film is pure Hitchcock.  The director's fascination with the darker side of human nature, that uncontrollable perversity for mayhem and destruction which reveals itself in many of his films, is clearly the inspiration and driving force behind this taut psychological thriller, one of his many cinematic masterpieces.

Appropriately for a film that revolves around the conflict between good and evil, light and dark, Shadow of a Doubt is shot as a film noir, and indeed it is one of the most attractive examples of American film noir.  The film features some of the most imaginative camerawork in any of Hitchcock's films - including some stunning crane shots which perfectly evoke how the protagonists feel when their view of the world around them suddenly changes, from the familiar to the alarmingly unexpected.

Whilst it has many of Hitchcock's recognisable trademarks, Shadow of a Doubt also has a bleakness and realism that sets it apart from many of the director's other films, certainly his later, more commercial films.  The use of a real location - Santa Rosa - contributes greatly to the film's impact, as does Thornton Wilder's excellent screenplay and a sublime cast, which includes no major Hollywood stars but some hugely talented character actors.   In one of his few villainous roles, Joseph Cotton brilliantly captures the dual-sided persona of Uncle Charlie - avuncular and slightly creepy (in the way that most uncles are), quite different to his instantly likeable portrayal in Orson Welles's The Magnificent Ambersons (1942).

As Uncle Charlie's doting sister, Patricia Collinge is the epitome of the ordinary middle class American housewife, so absorbed by the routine of her humdrum life that she is totally incapable of seeing anything wrong in her brother's behaviour.  If Uncle Charlie spent an evening dismembering Asiatic virgins in his bedroom, all she would notice is that the bed linen needed changing.   Henry Travers and Hume Cronyn make an enjoyable comic double act, the perfect vehicle for Hitchcock's subversive black humour - amiably they discuss how to perpetrate the perfect murder whilst a seasoned serial killer sits quietly in their midst.   One of the many joys the film has to offer is the depth of characterisation and the brilliance with which every character is portrayed by these great actors.

Perhaps he film's strength lies in the fact that the nature of the threat only really becomes apparent towards the end.  Much of what we see is shown from the perspective of a highly emotional adolescent young woman (Young Charlie), and so there is an element of uncertainty over whether the danger she senses is real or imagined.  Hitchcock's films often include a degree of subjectivity, so we can never be sure whether we should believe everything that we see.  This ambiguity is accentuated by Joseph Cotton's performance, which combines urbane charm with a suggestion of something sinister, and the way in which all of the other characters, notably Uncle Charlie's sister, see him as someone presenting no danger at all.  In fact, it is only right at the end of the film that the ambiguity is resolved and the last shadow of doubt is removed, in a typically Hitchcockian life-and-death climax.

The unwillingness of an audience to accept a character as being truly bad is something that Hitchcock exploits time and again in his films, and to devastating effect.  Like the seemingly harmless Norman Bates in Psycho (1960), Uncle Charlie is portrayed not as the villain, but as a character we want to see vindicated as an innocent man.  The shock revelation that he is not Snow White doesn't diminish our sympathy for him, or our desire for a happy outcome for him.  This strange dichotomy is central to many of Hitchcock's films - our sympathies are torn between the good guy and the bad guy, and often we see more of ourselves in the bad guy.  Few film directors have probed the nature of evil with greater insight and intelligence than Hitchcock, a fact that his many great films will amply demonstrate.

Film Synopsis

Young Charlie Newton is delighted when she receives a telegraph from her Uncle Charlie notifying her that he intends spending some time with her family in the peaceful American town of Santa Rosa.  But this delight soon turns to fear when she begins to suspect her Uncle Charlie may be harbouring a dark secret.  Her anxieties are borne out when police detectives warn her that Uncle Charlie is believed to have murdered a number of wealthy widows.  They cannot make an arrest because there is another suspect, in another town.  But Young Charlie is convinced of her uncle's guilt and fears what he will do to protect his secret...