Books to Movies: Rear Window and Rear Window

I originally intended this post to tackle the issue, What about when the movie is better than the book?

I choose the wrong "book"--Cornell Woolrich's "Rear Window," which of course, became Hitchcock's Rear Window. 

The movie is extremely close to the short story. There are differences, of course, including the dead dog (movie) and the main character's occupation as well as the love interest. But the series of events in the short story are almost directly replicated. More importantly, the short story is well-worth reading (and can be read in The Best Mystery Stories Century, edited by Tony Hillerman).

And yet, my choice defends my basic premise: Movies aren't books. A story must be changed in order to fit a different medium. And it may end up enchanting audiences in an entirely different way. 

What makes a story good versus what makes a film good? 

The short story "Rear Window" is suspenseful, in part because the reader isn't told until the end why the main character is relying on others to investigate and why the main character doesn't leave as soon as he realizes the murderer has sussed him out. I'm generally not a fan of this type of reveal--his leg is in a cast--but in this case, the character's apparently non-proactive behavior is unnerving enough to feed the story's suspenseful tone. 

It wouldn't work in a movie. Sure, every shot could show Jimmy Stewart from the waist up--like filming pregnant women only when they are sitting down. But it's unnecessary and far more interesting in the film for the visiting insurance nurse, played by the marvelous Thelma Ritter, to provide banter. 

The film's setting also captivates. Jeffries is looking out on a series of apartments that share linked courtyards. The stories of various tenants intertwine, from that of the dog owners to that of the two lonely-hearts. The tenants also provide opportunities for character-building dialog as when Jeff comments on the socialite across the way and Lisa dryly says, "She's juggling wolves." 

The entire panoply of apartments and neighbors wouldn't work in the story. The narrator comments on the different tenants but the focus must be on the possible murder. In a full-length book, every tenant could possibly receive a chapter, but it would get distracting and could possibly backfire. The narrator's focus in the text must be kept limited. 

Stories can do things that films don't. And vice versa.