Rear Window: The Making of a Hitchcock Masterpiece in the Hollywood Golden Age, by Jennifer O’Callaghan

I’ve never formally made a “Top Ten Movies of All Time” list, but if I ever do, Rear Window will be sitting comfortably near the top. I’ve watched Hitchcock’s masterpiece more than a dozen times, and it never once loses its grip on me. A book promising a deep dive into its creation is right up my cinematic alley. Happily, Jennifer O’Callaghan’s book delivers a feast of behind-the-scenes treasures.

The best parts are irresistible for Hitchcock obsessives: the casting decisions, the ingenious construction of that gargantuan courtyard set, the amusing lengths the crew went to in order to sneak risqué material past the Hays Code, and the surprising fact that Thelma Ritter — scene-stealing nurse, patron saint of sarcasm — was the highest-paid cast member, earning four times Grace Kelly’s salary. Those nuggets alone justify buying this book.

O’Callaghan also digs into Hitchcock the man: the prickly genius in his trademark black-and-white suit, the private oddities, the professional rivalries, the way he alternated between tenderness and tyranny. She interviewed offspring, relatives, colleagues, and industry figures to sketch a portrait of Hitchcock that feels honest — lots of praise (of course), but occasionally unflattering when warranted (for example, his mistreatment of actresses such as Tippi Hedren), yet always intriguing. Her explanations of film-study concepts — like montage, the Kuleshov effect, and Hitchcock’s use of spatial tension — were enlightening, and described in a way that wasn’t overly academic but not dumbed down either.

Where the book occasionally goes off track is in its tangents. O’Callaghan sometimes wanders far from the film — for example, into Grace Kelly’s later life as Princess of Monaco, complete with an anecdote involving John McCain at a casino decades later. Interesting? Sure. Necessary? Debatable. (Personally, I enjoyed most of these tangents, although I can understand how other readers might not.)

In the end, this is an engaging, lovingly researched look at how Hitchcock turned one courtyard, one camera, and one immobilized photographer into a masterpiece of psychological suspense. Not perfect, but deeply satisfying, and for Hitchcock devotees, this book is a must.