Alfred Hitchcock made Shadow of a Doubt during one of the most difficultperiods of his life. At the time, his mother was slowly dying in England, and Hitch wastrapped in the United States because the German bombardment of England during WorldWar II made travel nearly impossible. Thus, not only was Hitch cut off from his culturalroots in England, but he was cut off from his family. Thus, he felt very much alone in theworld.

It is little wonder, then, that Shadow of a Doubt became one of his mostpersonally revealing--and deeply cynical--films. According to biographer Donald Spoto, thefilm became "a handbook of all the literary and cultural influences on [Hitchcock's] own life,and it would be as near as he would ever get to wearing his private heart on his public andprofessional sleeve." Little bits of Hitchcock's life are inserted throughout the film, insituations and character development (especially the villain), and its dark tone and brooding,pathological subtext form a reluctant window into Hitch's darkest side.

On the surface, Shadow of a Doubt tells a compelling, suspenseful story that, intypical Production Code fashion, is wrapped up neatly and moralistically at the end. But,take a closer look, and you will see, much like Hitch's vision of the American family, abright, shiny surface barely masking a rotten core (that rotten core would become more andmore rotten over the years, finding its most notorious rendering in 1960'sPsycho). Just take the ending for example: Although, in keeping with theProduction Code's moralistic edicts, the villain dies at the end (thus getting his just rewards),the film ends with two characters talking about their indefinite future while, in thebackground, we can hear a funeral eulogy praising the deceased murderer. Thus, in amorally ambiguous twist, the villain's legacy is guaranteed to live on forever in falseadmiration while the future of the conventional heroine is left uncertain.

Shadow of a Doubt revolves around an "average" American family, the Newtons,who live in the quiet, squeaky-clean town of Santa Rosa in northern California (though itcould be anywhere in the U.S.). However, this is not where Hitchcock begins the film.Rather, he begins in a New Jersey boarding house with Uncle Charlie (Joseph Cotten), amysterious character who is pursued for unknown reasons by two men. Hitchcock leaves allof this purposefully vague, as Uncle Charlie eventually makes his away across the countryfor an extended stay with his family, whom he has not seen in years. His doting older sister,Emma (Patricia Collinge), and her laid-back banker husband, Joe (Henry Travers), welcomeUncle Charlie into their house, unaware of the secrets he may be harboring.

The core of the story, however, is the relationship between Uncle Charlie and his niece, whohas been named for him. Young Charlie (Teresa Wright), is a bright, innocent young womanin her early 20s who adores her uncle. In fact, you might even say she is in love with him.However, in a cruel twist, it is she who will eventually find out the truth about UncleCharlie, which sets up a psychologically complex duality between the two namesakes, whichis heightened even more by the story's overt suggestions of telepathy between them. Thesuggestion is that Young Charlie and Uncle Charlie are really two sides of the sameperson--Young Charlie representing trustful youth and innocence while Uncle Charlierepresents darkness, cynicism, and misanthropy--which has been read by many as anone-too-subtle metaphor for Hitchcock himself.

Joseph Cotton, who worked in Orson Welles' Mercury Theater and starred in bothCitizen Kane (1941) and The Magnificent Ambersons (1942), was astriking choice to play Uncle Charlie. Tall, handsome, and charming, he plays thecharacter's ambiguity perfectly, becoming a suave, popular businessman in one scene, andturning explicitly sinister in the next. Teresa Wright, coming off three back-to-back Oscarnominations (one of which she won for 1942's Mrs. Miniver), was also aninspired choice to play the sweet, innocent foil to the sinister Uncle Charlie. Yet, just asUncle Charlie is a complex, morally complex character, Young Charlie has her moments ofmoral grayness, as well. Despite her naivete, Young Charlie is shown to be capable ofviolence, which suggests all the more her metaphorical (perhaps literal) connection to heruncle.

Hitchcock sought out playwright Thornton Wilder to work on the script because Wilder hadrecently won the Pulitzer Prize for his play about small-town American life, OurTown. Hitchcock, having only made four movies in Hollywood since his immigrationto the U.S., was fascinated by Americana and all its cultural and ideological baggage. It wasa period in which small communities and wholesome, morally guided family life were heldin the highest regard; of course, Hitchcock saw them as veils for the hidden darkness ofhumanity. It is telling that Hitchcock identified so much with Uncle Charlie, and some of thespeeches made by the character--especially one in which he declares that if someone were torip off the fronts of houses in Santa Rosa, he would find swine living inside--sounds verymuch like Hitchcock's angriest inner voice forcing its way out.

Shadow of a Doubt is a brilliant piece of cynicism that exposes hypocrisy, moralrot, and a guilt that pervades both conventional criminals and everyday citizens. Despite thefilm's overall grim outlook, Hitchcock has a great deal of fun with Joe and his neighbor,Herb (Hume Cronyn), who together devour pulp mystery magazines and swap ideas abouthow they would murder each other. These scenes work largely as comic relief, but there issomething telling about them, as if Hitchcock is making a statement about his own audience:Why do we find so much enjoyment in the intricate details of murder, mayhem, andcriminality? In other words, why are we so fascinated with evil? The answer we are left withis as a simple as our own humanity: Hitch seems to be saying, it's part of our nature.

©2001 James Kendrick