This post is for the Neighbors Blogathon by Taking Up Room.
The Window is a taut noir thriller based on a short story by Cornell Woolrich of Rear Window fame. It was directed by Ted Tetzlaff, who shot Notorious for Alfred Hitchcock in 1946. It was written by Mel Dinelli, who was responsible for the screenplay for The Spiral Staircase, a gothic thriller which makes a great companion piece to The Window with its themes of physical vulnerability and danger close to home. A shining example of why more movies should be 70 minutes long, the film is both a tense suspense story and a dark exploration of the everyday horrors of childhood.
Set in a crumbling NYC tenement, the film’s protagonist is Tommy (Bobby Driscoll), a ten-year-old boy who often lets his imagination run away with him, much to the chagrin of his working-class parents. Struggling to make ends meet, Mr. and Mrs. Woodry (Arthur Kennedy and Barbara Hale) try to make Tommy understand that his lies have consequences. For example, Tommy’s boast to his friends that his family plan to move to a ranch out west causes the other adults in their apartment building to insist on interrupting a family dinner to snoop about the rooms, thinking they’ll soon be free for the taking.
Tommy really isn’t a bad kid. His parents know this. They try to be patient with him, but compulsively making stuff up is the kind of habit one would like to see broken before puberty. Upset by his parents’ being ashamed of him, Tommy resolves to tell the truth going forward. Turns out, he picked the worst time to reform…
One hot summer night, Tommy sleeps on the fire escape to keep cool. Instead of getting some shut-eye, he gets an eyeful of his neighbors Mr. and Mrs. Kellerson (Paul Stewart and Ruth Roman) stabbing a drunken sailor to death with a pair of scissors. Terrified, the boy tells his parents and even the police of the crime, but due to Tommy’s habitual lies and the Kellersons’ decent reputation among the apartment-dwellers, no one believes him.
That is, except the Kellersons themselves, who now have a difficult decision to make. Do they keep the boy alive since no one believes him anyway or do they make sure the only witness to their wicked deed is permanently out of the picture? The Kellersons aren’t thrill-killers and would rather not murder Tommy if they don’t have to. However, paranoia wears on their restraint and eventually, they hold out for the perfect opportunity to rid themselves of the inconvenient boy. That opportunity comes when Tommy is left alone in the apartment while his father works and his mother is called to look after an ailing relative.
The Window is often described as a kid-centered version of Rear Window. With the Woolrich connection, the comparison makes some sense, though there are key differences. In Rear Window, the viewer AND the protagonist Jeffries doubt whether or not Thorwald actually is hacking up his wife. The Window makes it clear that the Kellersons have committed murder, though Tommy is briefly questions his senses when the adults around him assume he must have dreamed the whole thing up– that is, when they aren’t humoring the idea that he’s lying again.
The protagonist’s age and social standing also change the thematic focus of the basic story. Though vulnerable from his leg injury, LB Jeffires is a mature, self-reliant man who doesn’t have to rely on others for his well-being. Tommy is just a kid. He relies on his parents not just for food and shelter, but his own safety as well. The ironic thing is that his parents unwittingly put him in harm’s way throughout the film and he can do little more than protest.
Tommy’s parents could have been portrayed as unsympathetic in their cluelessness, but the movie’s script and the actors’ performances emphasize one important detail: these people are exhausted. Stuck in a squalid apartment and saddled with a kid who causes them a lot of trouble no matter what they tell him, Mr. and Mrs. Woodry are at the end of their collective rope. Mr. Woodry works late hours and Mrs. Woodry struggles to make their home livable. One can hardly blame them for not taking the fanciful Tommy at his word.
That being said, their parenting methods can strike a 21st century audience as harsh. They send Tommy to bed without supper as punishment. At one point, Tommy’s father even boards up his windows and locks him in his room before leaving the kid all alone in the apartment. This is done to prevent him from running away and getting into trouble– though how Tommy should fare if the building catches on fire is an issue that doesn’t seem to have crossed Mr. Woodry’s mind!
Obviously, the Kellersons are the biggest threat to Tommy’s life. The couple put on a bland, friendly exterior when neighbors come a-calling, making their secret criminality all the more fascinating. The movie never makes explicit their victim’s reason for being in the Kellerson apartment late at night. It’s clear the Kellersons were robbing him and their subsequent violence was the result of him getting wise. However, how he was lured up there is a matter of speculation, though Mrs. Kellerson’s dolled up appearance during this scene suggests much.
The best villains are those who best know how to use the hero’s greatest weakness against them. In the Kellersons’ case, they don’t fail to take advantage of Tommy’s youth and his being in hot water with his parents. Mrs. Kellerson constantly puts on an easygoing manner, which just makes Tommy’s accusations seem even more hysterical and unfair. When Mrs. Woodry takes Tommy to the Kellerson apartment to apologize to the couple for spreading lies about them, Mrs. Kellerson is shot from a low angle, emphasizing Tommy’s powerlessness. (In fact, most of the adults are shot this way, even the ones that don’t rob and murder people in the comfort of their own homes. It’s a great way of linking the audience to the perspective of a child.)
The Kellersons’ most chilling interaction with the boy involves their kidnapping him and then getting a ride back to the apartment in a taxi. Tommy struggles and calls out to a cop patroling the sidewalk when the cab stops at a light. Tommy begs the policeman for help, but the Kellersons quickly override the conversation. They tell the policeman that they’re Tommy’s parents. Tommy shouts that it isn’t true, but the policeman just laughs his pleas off, assuming Tommy is just trying to get out of a standard 1940s bout of corporal punishment. Once again, the people who should be protecting Tommy are letting him down and leaving him prey to genuine menaces like the Kellersons. The irony here is profound, even Hitchcockian in its presentation of an authority figure.
This oppressive sense of powerlessness permeates the film and is enhanced by the gloomy urban setting. The production team got permission to shoot some scenes on-location in New York City. The authenticity of the footage lends strong, noirish atmosphere to the story, particularly during the night scenes. Once the film reaches its climax and Tommy is on the run from his would-be killers, the urban setting becomes almost dystopian in its unrelenting darkness and grime, with only the occasional electric pinprick of light illuminating parts of the surroundings.
It’s not hard to see why Tommy lives so often outside of reality and dreams up fanciful scenarios that make his life less drab. The tenements are run-down and cramped. There also doesn’t seem to be a suitable place for the local children to play, as Tommy and friends take to abandoned buildings to goof off. I imagine even the Kellersons are indirectly motivated to do what they do by their crumbling surroundings, taking money however they can to make their lives more comfortable. In The Window, misery either causes one to retreat from reality or become a monster.
I want to end this review by talking about Bobby Driscoll in the lead role. Driscoll is best remembered for his work at the Disney Studios in the 40s and 50s (his involvement with The Window was the result of Walt Disney loaning him out to RKO), particularly as the voice and live-action model for Peter Pan. His life story is a tragic one. Prized when he was a cute little kid, the moment he hit puberty, he was more or less dropped like a hot, radioactive potato by Hollywood. His adulthood was marked by drug addiction and bitterness before an untimely death at 31.
I want to get that baggage out of the way because Driscoll’s sordid end is often more discussed than his real talents as an actor. I make no bones that kid actors from this period tend to set me on edge, particularly when they’re directed to be cute and “pwecious.” In this movie, Driscoll feels like an actual kid and not some sugary confection. His line readings are spontaneous and natural, and even without dialogue, he’s incredibly expressive. I particularly love an early moment when after his parents have to tell their neighbors that no, they aren’t moving to a ranch, Tommy puts on a nonchalant air, hands in his pockets, and tries to stroll to his bedroom as though he has no idea why ANYBODY would have thought such a crazy thing! He’s a likeable little guy and that makes it all the more tense–and even heartbreaking– when he’s put in danger or when no one believes his cries for help.
The Window was a big hit for RKO when it was released in 1949 and it’s been remade a few times since. The core story is simply too good not to reuse. I haven’t seen the later versions, but with its noirish visuals, potent direction, and strong performances, I imagine the original is a tough act to follow. If you’re a Hitchcock fan who likes seeking out “Hitchcockian” films, you can’t do better. However, it may make you think twice about the people next door if you don’t happen to know them THAT well!
Sources:
“The Window” on the AFI Catalog
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Wow, this looks really good–it’s a shame it hasn’t gotten more attention. Poor Billy Driscoll. Thanks again for joining the blogathon! 🙂
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Thank you!
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