Shadow of a Doubt

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock; produced by Jack H Skirball

In Newark, New Jersey, Charles Oakley (Joseph Cotten) is being shadowed by two detectives. Deftly avoiding them, he decides it would be a good time to visit his sister (Patricia Collinge) and her family in California. There, he is welcomed, especially by his niece, young ‘Charlie’ (Teresa Wright), who thinks the world of him. But as the visit progresses, Charlie is disturbed by Oakley’s contempt for human life, and by suspicions that her uncle may be a hunted murderer.

Shadow of a Doubt was Hitchcock’s favourite of his own films, and one can understand why. It is very atmospheric, heavy with the charm of small-towns and quiet living, and the dreadful intrusion of evil. Unfortunately, the film is not a success in all of its aspects.

In terms of acting, it’s a winner. Cotten and Wright provide, if not chemistry, then an excellent relationship in their work. (They played husband and wife in 1952’s The Steel Trap, reviewed on this blog just about a year ago.) Both give fine, convincing performances of very different characters. You may not be able to look at Cotten the same way again after seeing him in Shadow of a Doubt. Yet in Walk Softly, Stranger (reviewed two weeks ago), while giving his character an edge of menace, he comes across as much more sympathetic a person, with more sympathetic views. It is not a coincidence that he was in Hitchcock, Reed and Welles’s favourites of their own films.

Wright, on the other hand, is at the top of her form. Note on the poster her higher billing than Cotten: Shadow of a Doubt was only her fourth movie; she had been nominated for Oscars in the first three, winning one. Her performance here could have earned her another: her attitude when ordering her uncle to leave her home, upon realising his true personality, conveys not horror or right perfect emotion for the scene. It is typical of her work here.

The other actors also give good value. Collinge is the doting older sister to Oakley, who thinks he is perfect, while Hume Cronyn, in his first film, is an annoying yet amusing neighbour. The minor roles are well-filled.

Viewers might find themselves disillusioned in the story. Co-written by Thornton Wilder, perhaps for the small-town feel, it was meant to show the wickedness that lies under the surface of the average American community. That misses the mark. The community is fine: the wickedness is introduced by an outsider, a ‘New York man’. We see that the townspeople are impressed by Oakley, by his money, his sophistication. Yet he spends much of his time openly deriding them, and purposely saying antagonistic things. And no one questions why someone vaguely labelling himself a ‘businessman’ carries $40,000 in his wallet. (In those days, $100 a week was a decent salary.)

As well, we are meant to infer that Oakley’s compulsion to kill originated in a head injury, suffered as a child. Yet Charlie notices her uncle’s cruel and hateful nature only now? After numerous visits over the years? The police investigation into Oakley’s involvement in crime is committed on the one hand, superficial on the other. He is one of two suspects. Detectives travel from the east coast to the west to investigate him, and manage surreptitiously to take his picture. But when the other suspect is killed fleeing police (for all we know, he may have been trying to out-run an exorbitant parking ticket), the police abruptly decide that Oakley is no longer a suspect. Since this determination has an effect on events that follow, it is significant - also unprofessional and illogical. The romance between young Charlie and a detective (Macdonald Carey) is forced and perfunctory.

The direction is less than what one might expect from Hitchcock. It is certainly good, but there is nothing to differentiate it from any other good directors’ work. There is no innovation, and surprisingly little imagination, though there are still some good scenes: for instance, when Oakley, freed of suspicion by the police, sees young Charlie in a doorway regarding him with wary doubt. But, whether it is caused by direction or editing, there are sequences that feature jarring changes in characters’ moods, even though the sequences are in the same scenes, seconds apart.

While I can’t say that I think of Shadow of a Doubt as one of Hitchcock’s best movies, it is elevated tremendously by the performances, all of which are entertaining, professional and well worth seeing.