How Ben Wheatley's 'Rebecca' differs from Alfred Hitchcock's


This article contains spoilers for both Rebecca (2020) and Rebecca (1940)


Director Ben Wheatley's adaptation of Daphne du Maurier's gothic novel Rebecca has been under a lot of scrutiny. Almost instinctively viewers have made comparisons to a previous adaptation of the story, directed by Alfred Hitchcock in 1940. While they might be adapting the same source material, the two films are extremely different in a variety of ways. What are these differences exactly, and how do the changes impact the story of Ben Wheatley's Rebecca

Both versions of the film follow an unnamed female protagonist who meets the mysterious widower Maxim de Winter while working as a paid companion in Monte Carlo. The two strike up an unlikely relationship, and Maxim asks her to accompany him back to his estate, Manderley, as his bride. However, the second Mrs de Winter finds herself living in the shadow of late wife Rebecca, who she is constantly reminded of by housekeeper Mrs. Danvers. Meanwhile Maxim becomes increasingly emotionally distant and the new Mrs de Winter takes it upon herself to find out more about her predecessor. The broad strokes of the plot remain largely unchanged in the new Netflix film, but the key changes make all the difference in how we perceive the story and characters. 

In Hitchcock's film, Maxim and the female protagonist strike up a relationship that seems oddly devoid of chemistry and passion. They simply fall into a pattern of spending time together, enjoying activities that are completely platonic. If you weren't aware of the events to come, you could easily be surprised at Max springing a marriage proposal on the young woman. This lack of passion between the two continues once they return to Manderley, sleeping in separate bedrooms while Maxim becomes increasingly distant and irritable. 

Wheatley's film could not be further from this, emphasising the romantic relationship forming between the two main characters in Monte Carlo and showcasing how passionate that relationship is. This new representation of the relationship at the heart of the story has positives and negatives. On one hand, the increased closeness of the couple allows us to empathise with them when the memory of Rebecca begins to intervene in their marriage. Seeing it start out so well heightens the impact that Mrs Danvers has on the new Mrs de Winter, making her doubt a relationship that was previously full of passion and chemistry. 

Unfortunately, this change has a negative impact on the portrayal of Maxim. The emotionally detached portrayal of the character performed by Laurence Olivier is especially effective for a modern audience. The disparaging and infantilising way that he speaks to the protagonist sets off instant alarm bells and makes us feel increasingly wary of the budding relationship. Olivier's Max has clearly been deeply affected his past with Rebecca and it shows in the fact that he is consumed by anger and has little capability of showing the protagonist any meaningful affection. 

The increased emotional range of Armie Hammer's Maxim de Winter aids in being able to empathise with the couple, but it also minimises the character's underlying trauma. There are fewer hints at how deeply affected he is by Rebecca. They are shoehorned in in the form of Lily James' protagonist accidentally finding items that belonged to her, and being mildly scolded for taking too much of an interest in them. Ultimately, the opening of Wheatley's film is much more focused on portraying a passionate relationship than building tension. 

However, if there is an upside to Hammer's more emotional Max, it is that the way we are meant to feel about the character is even more ambiguous than before. Wheatley's film differs mainly from Hitchcock's in that it is more faithful to the source material, and this is especially important when it comes to the circumstances of Rebecca's death. Hitchcock was limited by the rules set out in the Hayes code, preventing Laurence Olivier's Max from purposefully killing his late wife and getting away with it. Instead, her death is portrayed as being an anger-induced accident (even though it still remains manslaughter at best). 

Wheatley is unburdened by the restrictions placed upon the filmmakers of Classical Hollywood, and does not shy away from making Maxim a cold-blooded killer. In the scene where his guilt is revealed, Maxim handles the gun that he used to murder Rebecca, and this is really the first time that the film feels truly sinister. Up until this point, it has been easy to empathise with Hammer's version of the character, primarily because we have been rooting for his relationship with the protagonist from the beginning. From this scene onwards, though, it is difficult to know how to feel. Like its' predecessor, the film blames Rebecca for her promiscuity and makes her death feel in some way justified. But unlike in Hitchcock's film Max's guilt cannot easily be forgotten. Wheatley's adaptation goes further into portraying the complexities of a story where every character has secrets and bears some measure of blame. 

However, where the film has more complexity in terms of Max, it regrettably takes away the nuances of Mrs Danvers. Judith Anderson's performance in the 1940 film was nominated for the Best Supporting Actress Oscar, and her performance is famed for its' lesbian subtext. Again, the Hayes code prevented any overt homosexuality onscreen, but it was obvious enough in the way that Mrs Danvers obsessed over Rebecca, almost to the point of denying that she was really gone. Kristin Scott Thomas' Danvers gives a similarly chilling performance, but her devotion to Rebecca stops short of romantic obsession. The character and her feelings towards the late Mrs de Winter are such an integral part of the narrative that it feels in Wheatley's film that there is something lacking. 

Not all of the changes made to the story in Ben Wheatley's Rebecca are negative, but the shift in tone and preoccupation with the relationship between the main characters makes this more of a romantic drama than a gothic tale. It lacks the suspense that makes the book, and the Hitchcock film, so thrilling. Unfortunately it seems that this film, like the new Mrs de Winter, will always exist in the shadow of its predecessor.