Rebecca (2020) (Review)

We return to Manderley with Ben Wheatley's adaptation of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca for Netflix. Having been previously interpreted by the incomparable Alfred Hitchcock, becoming the recipient of 1939-40's Academy Award for Best Picture, the shoes it has to fill loom large. Does the idiosyncratic British director, joined here by Lily James, Armie Hammer and Kristin Scott Thomas, justify the existence of a new Rebecca?

After a whirlwind romance sees her become Maxim de Winter's wife, Mrs. de Winter's newly found domestic bliss is interrupted by the haunting shadow of his late wife at his family estate. 

For a film essentially about legacy, it is rather ironic that this new adaptation of Rebecca struggles to escape the clutch of its predecessor. Bound to be haunted by comparisons that hardly cast a flattering light, Wheatley was required to fight a losing battle from the beginning and he never manages to quite justify the existence of this interpretation. Yet, despite some questionable narrative decisions and diluted horror undercurrents, for audiences willing to lack past necessity, it may be enjoyable enough for an Autumn evening viewing.

 Ravishing and sumptuously designed, this Rebecca aims for a campier, sexier tone than the original, swapping darker, gothic imagery for a gaudier styling that at least divorces itself from comparisons from a visual standpoint. Injecting bold colours and luscious scenery into the picture is a smart decision that disguises the lack of narrative depth on a surface level, with the wonderful costumes to the set dressing, lensed by Laurie Rose, making it a glossy attraction with visual flair to spare. 

Adapted by Jane Goldman, Joe Shrapnel and Anna Waterhouse, there's a greater focus on the romance than the horror, reflected in Wheatley's direction which delivers swoons over scares - at least to begin with. As the minutes pass by, however, the film faces increasingly issues regarding its pacing, resulting in long stretches of disinterest and, at times, boredom. With the romantic elements being established early on, and with said relationship straining, it has nothing to fall back on beyond a half-baked mystery and light atmosphere work. It cannot help but feel misguided and tonally uncertain, at least in the second half.

With two of the most attractive actors inhabiting the roles, they certainly look the part. While nobody turns in a performance that rivals that of their predecessors, it is mostly fine work from all. Lily James compels, capturing Mrs. de Winter's torment - and refreshed agency - as her suspicions overwhelm her. Armie Hammer's charm cements Mr Winter the suitable Bachelor-tyle but never quite develops the darker edge that fuels the mystery enough to sustain our interest over two hours. Kristin Scott Thomas makes for a forbidding, brooding Mrs Danvers but the screenplay is unable to certify her as the iconic antagonist she has become.

A classic it will never be, and although Rebecca struggles to justify its existence or escape the shadow of past adaptations, it is glossy and attractive enough to sustain those less bothered by how necessary a film must be. Swapping out gothic dread for bold colours subtracts the horror elements in favour of a romance that doesn't completely take off, but at least sets director Ben Wheatley's interpretation down a slightly different path, no matter how surface level that detour may be. This Rebecca certainly won't be contending for the top film prize Hitchcock's version snatched up eight decades ago, but neither does it tarnish its legacy as many feared it might.

Summary: Ben Wheatley's Rebecca lacks the depth and mystery of its source material and previous adaptations but is glossy and attractive enough to distract those less bothered by the necessity of its existence.