The dog who knew too much

Rear Window

Crit (1954)

While walking to the theater, I couldn't help thinking about the first time I saw this: I was about 30 and so was film, and in fact I was 30 or close to it before I saw the vast majority of Hitchcock's great films. Rear Window and four other films (let's see whether I can remember them all: Vertigo, the remake of The Man Who Knew Too Much, Rope, and The Trouble with Harry) had just been rereleased theatrically, and I saw them all for the first time in a beautiful theater (now, sadly, dead) in downtown Champaign, Ill. Not all are among "Hitchcock's great films," but still, the quintet was a worthy introduction for someone whose tiny native town had afforded him no chance to see them earlier. If I were growing up in that same little town now, in a similarly middle-class family, I'd be able to see any of those films via Netflix--why, I could watch three of them on my computer without even wasting a rental or the time the mails would take to get the DVD to me.

Is that a good thing or a bad thing? OK, dumb question: obviously a kid growing up in Mt. Sterling is far better off culturally than I was. But will that kid ever learn to love the idea of a movie--the idea of seeing something screened even bigger than on the household 56" rear-projection screen in an arena incomparably more beautiful than the family den? Will that kid ever choose to walk downtown to see among a large and appreciative crowd a film he already owns and could just pop into the DVD (or Blu-ray, or Infinitivision of the future)?

As to the film, if you don't already know it, there's no point in my saying anything but rent the damn thing. Better yet, buy it: trust me, you're gonna want to watch it repeatedly.