Hitchcock and his 1950s plottenings. Such dastardly mechinations. Here? Basically just a peeping tom imagining stories for all the people he sees out his back window while he’s laid up with a broken leg.
Photojournalist L.B. “Jeff” Jefferies is holed up, 6 weeks in to a 7 week stint, busted up after a racetrack shoot went awry and bounced his slow ass. That 10 seconds of footage would’ve been more exciting than what we have here. Holed up in an apartment in what I assume is New York during a heat wave, he keeps himself occupied watching all the neighbors around the large courtyard out his back window. His imaginations soars around one particular apartment where shenanigans may be occurring. He convinces his hot girlfriend and others to get involved in the imaginings to investigate how it all plays out.
This is ok, I guess. The fact that a hot young blonde likes a crotchety old dude in a wheelchair in a cast makes this a hard one to get into. It’s just kinda silly, really. And perverse, on multiple levels. This is kinda considered one of Hitchcock’s best? Really? The suspense and drama are pretty pedestrian, but I guess it was 1954. Apparently there wasn’t too much excitement otherwise back then. Basic plot. Basic intrigue. Grace Kelly is the highlight here, more just for her presence than anything else. Miss Torso isn’t bad either, she seems rather talented. James Stewart is just a stupid turd, plus is kind of a dick to his friends. His sleuthing skills are suspect, and his fear of marriage to Grace Kelly makes him a fag. Needless to say, especially after watching the brilliance of The Lives of Others, this one is just plain...lame. Is it Hitchcock? Or maybe 1954? Either way, Not cool.
