Catalog From The Beyond: Alfred Hitchcock’s ROPE (1948)

In the middle of the 20th century, Alfred Hitchcock made a career out of generating fear from the mundane. Psycho made us afraid to shower. The Birds had us looking toward the skies for more than just the pigeons looking to crap on our heads. And I’ll be damned if Rear Window didn’t get me to stop spying on my neighbors with a telescopic camera.

Those familiar with Hitchcock’s work likely know that his ability to instill dread stems from his knowledge about the difference between surprise and suspense. According to Hitchcock, to surprise, you simply need to set off a bomb in the middle of a scene. To create suspense, however, the audience needs to know the bomb is there. Suspense is the knowledge that two people are living their lives blissfully unaware that each moment could be their last. That’s why many of Hitchcock’s stories don’t rely on the twist ending. He’s not looking to surprise his audience. He wants to make them squirm. Such is the case in his 1948 film, Rope, although instead of a bomb, Hitchcock kicks off his movie by introducing viewers to a corpse.

Said corpse David Kentley (Dick Hogan), who is shown in the opening frames being strangled to death by former college mates Brandon (John Dall) and Philip (Farley Granger). For Brandon, murder is the ultimate performance art, and performance art is nothing without an audience. So he and Phillip stuff David into a trunk and invite a group of friends over for a dinner party with the help of unwitting housekeeper Mrs. Wilson (Edith Evanson). On the guest list we have David’s father, Henry (Cedric Hardwicke), aunt Anita (Constance Collier), best friend Kenneth (Douglas Dick), and ex-girlfriend Janet (Joan Chandler). And, just to raise the stakes, Brandon also invites Rupert Cadell (James Stewart), their former housemaster from college. Rupert knows that Brandon has a propensity for pushing the envelope, so Brandon wants to include Rupert just to up the thrill factor.

Although Rope is an early entry in Hitchcock’s catalog, it’s easy to see that he already had a knack for wringing every drop of tension out of a scene. This is particularly impressive given that the entire movie takes place in a small high-rise apartment, and is filmed as to appear to take place in one long, continuous shot (there is some tricky editing to hide several cut scenes, but I’ll admit I only saw them because I did some research and knew where to look). While the film is based on a Patrick Hamilton play of the same name, I was surprised that rather than simply using a static shot that would mirror a play, Hitchcock makes creative and dynamic use of cinematography. We often follow characters from room to room, entering and leaving conversations as if we were another member of the party. Only we, like Brandon and Phillip, carry the anxiety of knowing that at any minute one of the guests could discover the corpse hidden under the pâté platter.

Hitchcock uses that knowledge to toy with us throughout the movie. One particularly brilliant moment begins as Mrs. Wilson notes to Rupert some of the odd decisions that Brandon and Phillip made regarding how the party was to be set up. As we start hearing the details, the camera begins tracking away from the two, with their dialogue slowly fading into inaudible whispers until we see them through the gaze of who we discover to be Phillip. I’ve never seen a shot produce this effect before, as we seamlessly transition from Rupert’s suspicions to Phillip’s dread.

Another interesting choice Hitchcock makes is to forgo any soundtrack outside of the credits sequence. As most genre fans know, excluding a score is often a recipe for disaster, as even classic horror films could be rendered virtually unwatchable without the appropriate musical atmosphere. In Rope, however, the lack of ominous music alludes to the idea that for those not in on the crime, this event is nothing but a light-hearted party among friends. As we fret over whether or not one of the guests will find the grisly McGuffin lying in the trunk, the banter and frivolity make things that much more off-putting.

Woven into this banter is a terrific cat-and-mouse contest between Rupert and Brandon. Brandon admires Rupert’s ideas that some people are inherently superior to others, and he’s taken Rupert’s theory of legal murder for those deemed worthy of the honor and put it into practice. [Spoiler alert] In the movie’s climax, Brandon even reveals that he invited Rupert specifically because he wanted him to find out what they’d done. Brandon sees Rupert as a kindred spirit, and Jimmy Stewart perfectly conveys anguish as the reality of the situation washes over him. He’s horrified at what Brandon and Phillip have done, but he’s also ashamed of his own culpability in teaching them that anyone’s life could be worth more than another’s [end of spoiler].

I suppose that it’s silly of me to be surprised at how effective this movie is, considering it was created by a man known literally as “The Master of Suspense.” But I must admit that I was taken aback by how well this movie is executed, because on paper it really shouldn’t work. The film’s only murder happens within the first 30 seconds, and the remaining 80 minutes take place during a dinner party. But I spent every one of those minutes both wildly hoping for and frantically dreading the moment when someone would find David’s corpse, and only when the credits rolled did I realize that the “bomb” had served its purpose. I’d been played by the master.