A Gothic novel is one that incorporates medievalism and terror—omens, nightmares the supernatural. Charlotte Brontë debuted the first Gothic Romance novel, Jane Eyre, which set the elements for that sub-genre: (1)
- An innocent young woman, orphaned and alone.
- A mysterious hero. He is always older, wealthier, and more powerful than the woman.
- Some form of “magic” that brings them together. It’s love at first sight.
- A ruined manor. Here’s where the medieval element comes in. The gloomy, hulking estate must be as shadowy and ominous as an ancient abbey.
In Jane Eyre, the young woman is Jane, and the hero is Mr. Rochester. They meet when Rochester falls from his horse and Jane helps him. Only later do they discover that they are both living in the cursed Thornfield Hall.
Almost one hundred years later, Daphne Du Maurier wrote Rebecca, and Alfred Hitchcock made the book into a film that won his only Best Picture Oscar in 1940. In this more modern story, an orphaned young woman (she is never named) meets with the insanely wealthy, handsome, brooding Maxim de Winter, when she tries to save him from what she perceives to be a suicide attempt. (Shades of Jane Eyre. Are these young, orphaned women as helpless as we’re to believe they are?) They fall in love, although it’s hard to believe it, when Maxim’s term of affection is “you little fool,” and he orders her when to eat, blow her nose, and quit biting her nails.
They marry in the romantic European setting where they met and return to England and Manderley, the de Winter manse. While the new Mrs. de Winter remains nameless, the name of the late Mrs. de Winter is everywhere. Stationery, linens, and even her hairbrush are marked with her name: Rebecca. Like the ghostly presence in Jane Eyre, she is everywhere in the manor house. The camera seems to track something unseen, and looming shadows stand in for the dead woman.
The second Mrs. de Winter feels incapable of competing with Rebecca, who was a great beauty, as well as a brilliant, amusing woman everyone adored. Isolated at Manderley, with Maxim often away, she almost falls under the spell of Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper who came to Manderley with Rebecca and who seems to have lost her mind with grief after Rebecca’s tragic death.
It’s only after the new Mrs. de Winter finds out the truth about Rebecca that she transforms from an awkward young girl to a determined, mature woman. Maxim had been drawn to his young wife’s innocence and pliability. “It’s a pity you have to grow up,” he says shortly after they meet. But it’s a good thing she does, overcoming her passivity to fight for her husband and ultimately saving him from a murder charge, while also saving their love.
Now comes a new iteration of Rebecca. “I wanted to make something that had more love in it,” says director Ben Wheatley of the 2020 film. (2) He has succeeded but at the expense of any Gothic elements. Yes, the innocent heroine and the mysterious hero enjoy the magic of love at first sight in the glorious French Riviera.
And yes, they marry and return to Manderley, although it’s a blocky mansion of no discernable architectural style but beautiful, modern décor with loads of floor-to-ceiling windows. Where are the shadows? Where is the gloom? In the Hitchcock version of the film, one of the most memorable shots is so dimly lit that the light only catches the white of Mrs. Danvers’ s eye–a most eery effect.
In the Rebecca of 2020, Mrs. Danvers is well played by Kristen Scott-Thomas, but the script makes her more annoying than menacing, and more depressed than demented. She talks about her feelings too much to seem truly ominous. Supernatural/surreal elements seem tacked on and don’t emanate from Mrs. Danvers.
Lily James is up to the task of playing the young, gauche second wife. When the truth about Rebecca comes out, she is transformed. She puts on grown-up lady make-up, dons her tweed suit like it’s a coat of armor, and sets out to save her husband.
The new Rebecca would have benefited from a tighter script. In this version of the film, there are three stories jammed together: the love story in Monte Carlo, the muddled fish-out-of-water story in the middle, and the crime story concerning the case of Rebecca’s mysterious death. In the latter, it’s impossible to build suspense amid all the explaining that goes on.
But it’s the middle section that really suffers. As film scholar Patricia White says, “In a Gothic Romance, the Gothic part is what happens after the romance.” (3) That’s the part that’s missing in this version of Rebecca.
(1) Ann Ronald, “Terror-Gothic: Nightmare and Dream in Ann Radcliffe and Charlotte Brontë
(2) Ben Wheatley, interview with Charles Banfield, The Playlist, Sept. 4, 2020.
(3) Patricia White, in conversation with Molly Haskell feature on Rebecca DVD (Hitchcock version)