Intermittent Mechanism

I enjoyed Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None. Overall, I would consider it a well-balanced and well-paced mystery story that has stood the test of time. It is one that is both complex and solvable, and I think Christie gives enough information for the story to be comprehensible but not so much that it also becomes too easy.

For the sake of honesty, I must admit that I, for a rather silly reason, suspected that either Emily Brent or Vera Claythorne would be U.N. Owen. Probably the most famous song from the Touhou series of games is titled “U.N. Owen was Her?” This refers to a mysterious character within the game itself, though, and not someone from the book. I was convinced until the manuscript document that the culprit may have been either of them, especially when considering the fact that Vera survived till the end. I was thus surprised to find that Lawrence Wargrave was the culprit and pleasantly surprised too that I had not been spoiled by the song.

The fact that this revelation did not irritate me is a testament to the solid construction of the book – in other words, it employs “fair play” as we have discussed. After all, you’re more likely to be okay with losing a game if you were beaten “honorably” without cheap tricks or cheating. It seems fair enough that one of the ten main characters is the culprit, as having a secret hideout like some of characters suspected would be too obvious and anyone commuting to and from the island would likely be spotted eventually given the increasingly irregular sleep schedules of the characters and the increasing amount that they search the island.

In terms of motive and opportunity, it also makes sense that Wargrave would be U.N. Owen. If we take, for example, the characters of Emily Brent and Vera Claythorne, it becomes much easier to exonerate them when you consider these two factors in retrospect and while you read. As much as one might want to suspect the most seemingly innocent character (especially if you do not expect “fair play”), there isn’t much to suggest that she had much of a motive to kill everyone or that she would have the means to attain knowledge of everyone else’s crimes. Emily Brent is more easily suspected, as her age and predisposition towards divine justice (let us remember that killing in the name of God is not a novel notion) would give her the time/experience and perhaps some reason to investigate others’ crimes, but she pales in comparison to Wargrave, who is shown near the end of section 3 of chapter 5 to enjoy the drama of a good case and to have enjoyed indirectly killing Seton. This combined with his very direct access to the legal system would make it relatively easy for him to know of everyone else’s crimes whether through hearsay, witnessing trials, or looking through the right documents. His authoritative attitude throughout the story is described as coming from him having been in a position of legal authority for much of his life, but it makes even more sense considering that he is also the orchestrator of its events. He is also, as multiple of our readings on fair play have noted, a well-described character who is introduced early on in the story. I will admit, though, that I did not quite grasp how it is that Armstrong and Wargrave were cooperating to fake Wargrave’s death without my knowledge – it makes some sense, but I can’t say I saw any evidence of the fact .Perhaps I glossed over a crucial passage, but alas.

But it’s not necessarily so subtle to anyone who’s not yet finished the book, as Christie does not lay out clues on a silver platter. If there is a platter, though, red herrings are certainly on the menu, as each character, even Vera, is depicted as contemptible enough to potentially be U.N. Owen. The characters are one of the key strengths of the book in that they are distinct enough to be entertaining and distinct enough that one may process their traits and actions individually when considering who might be U.N. Owen. This fact is used in an interesting way in the instances when all of the characters’ thoughts are revealed at once, one of these being the start of chapter 13. After Christie writes, “And by now the thoughts that rain through their brains were abnormal, feverish, diseased…,” she does not outright say who is who when listing these thoughts. This encourages readers to infer who is thinking what using their knowledge of the characters and present circumstances, turning a moment that would otherwise be mere exposition into an interactive mini-game. The varied experiences readers will face may lead them down the entirely wrong path of reasoning, the right one, or perhaps in a path that lies or bends between these two extremes.

To put it quite shortly, Christie cooked. This is a book that is good fun not only for new readers but has enough depth and entertainment that it may be re-read, and a mystery story that can be re-read must indeed be a good one if it does not rely on the element of surprise alone to entertain you.

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie is regarded by many as the single greatest murder mystery of all time. And this is for good reason — it is an impressive feat to create a murder mystery with ten consecutive murders without the perpetrator becoming obvious, and without the story becoming boring or repetitive. It is especially impressive to also have these murders follow the events of the famous Frank Green poem. And to this end, Christe does a fantastic job. Each murder has a sense of uniqueness, and follows the poem quite closely, but not so closely that the upcoming murders are made obvious by the poem’s contents. From the first couple murders being simple poison, to the brutal murder of Mr. Rogers while chopping wood, to the epic scene of Vera snatching a revolver from Lombard, the novel keeps changing the methods and situations that guide these murders. The murders are also set up in a way where they become increasingly elaborate to combat the increasing precaution of the guests of Soldier Island. Overall, the situations set up by Christie are cohesive with the narrative and stay interesting through their developments.

What makes this story especially interesting to me isn’t just the complexity and cohesiveness of the murder mystery, but rather the human element of the story which Christie develops extremely well. Christie develops characters to have very distinctive personalities, and this distinctness is especially highlighted by the stress of the situation they are put in. Vera’s guilt and lack of self-confidence guides her passive approach to the unfolding events. She tends to follow the lead of others and as such misses opportunities to improve her situation. Brent’s self-righteousness stops her from collaborating with the rest of the people on the island, and this leads her to isolate from the rest of the group, and in a way this contributes to her eventual murder. These sorts of psychological flaws are brought to the forefront of each character through the events of the story, and present an ongoing drama of personalities which greatly complements the murder mystery unfolding.

An important thing to note in regards to character psychologies is how they strategize when the situation becomes dire. As per Wargrave’s command, they let everyone be a suspect, and this leads them to spend excessive amounts of time simply observing rather than taking any more drastic preventative action. Although character inaction would typically be a point of frustration while reading a novel, this wasn’t the case for me reading And Then There Were None. I felt like the characters not taking drastic action to improve their situation was in line with their personalities, and in line with their situation. These characters had such drastically different personalities and approaches to the situation at hand that it makes sense that they wouldn’t be able to reach consensus and try and execute a more complete plan to address the murderer. The situation was also developed in a way such that the characters genuinely were forced into inaction. They were left on an island with no way out, and since the murderer was amongst them yet unknown, many possible approaches to address the situation were ruled out. Because of these strategic decisions by Christie both in regards to the situation she manufactured and the characters she wrote, the reader was able to simply observe these murders unfold completely organically, without feeling dissatisfied by the characters’ choices.

The next major topic to discuss in regards to Christie’s development of the murder mystery is the actual mystery and its solution. Reading through the ten murders, there really was next to no clear indication of any one person being a murderer. While this is fantastic, there were also not many clues placed which led to the solution of the puzzle. Tracing the murder back to Wargrave required the reader to pick up on the symbol of Cain at Wargrave’s death, to recognize him as the only person not responsible for a murder prior to the events of the novel, or to pick up on the death of Armstrong being by virtue of  being swallowed by a red herring. These clues are minute and thus difficult to pick up on, and also are not sufficient evidence to link the murders to Wargrave. This combination essentially makes it impossible to determine the murderer without reading Wargrave’s confession. This is entirely intentional, since the murder mystery is supposed to be extremely difficult to the point of being unsolvable. However, the lack of relevant and damning clues for the reader make them less active as a participant in the novel. There is not much for the reader to solve, and so they mainly participate passively, simply watching the events unfold rather than being to predict or solve them in some capacity. Although unsatisfying, this decision by Christie to make the mystery impossible to follow makes sense. This is because she wants the reader of the novel to be put in the same situation as the characters trapped on Soldier Island. Being entirely powerless as the murders unfold, with no clues which could link back to the killer is the exact position which the characters are in, and so it makes sense that Christie would want the experience of the reader to mirror this. The character inaction we discussed previously exactly aligns with the reader’s inaction. 

On the note of solving the murder, I do think the letter from Wargrave in the bottle on the sea is a fantastic touch at the end of the novel. This letter, although only a few pages long, is an incredible dive into the mind of Wargrave, and paints him as a sort of deranged man with a twisted sense of justice. The things we learn about him align with what we had already known about him — specifically, his psychopathic righteousness aligns with his character as a Justice, and as the person who took charge of decision making on the island. His character views himself as an artist of justice, and this makes sense given the elaborate plans he devised, and given the letter he threw into the ocean — he couldn’t bear his effort and work being lost, and he had to confess somewhere. His character is definitely deranged, but is very interesting, and this letter does a great job of retroactively shaping the story which the reader has just finished. Overall, after reading, I understand the reputation of And Then There Were None as one of the greatest mystery novels of all time. The story told is incredibly complex and interesting, and the characters are very distinct and consistent. Watching the psychologies of the characters as they were left in a helpless situation was even more interesting than the murder mystery itself, and was definitely the highlight of the novel. I found it dissatisfying that the mystery was essentially impossible to solve for the reader, but I understand Christie’s motivation for this. The letter from Wargrave also makes for a unique final part of the novel, retroactively explaining the events of the play and defining Wargrave’s character as something deranged yet extremely fascinating.

By Alex Ding

Among Agatha Christie’s works, I believe that “And Then There Were None” stands out as a masterpiece of suspense and psychological intrigue. As I first started reading, I was familiarly introduced to the set-up of the classic mystery story, as Christie introduces the reader to each of the characters (suspects) individually. These first few chapters might serve a purpose in solving the murder cases to follow, however, I found it more enjoyable personally if it served a purpose in expanding the lore of the story’s world and left the mystery-solving to Christie. 

The set-up to “And Then There Were None” is a very interesting premise: ten strangers, each with a dark secret to hide, are lured to a remote island under various pretexts. As all ten strangers gather into a Mr. Un Owen’s house on his island, they soon realize that they have been brought together under various circumstances that were not foregoing with what they expected. With no way to escape and no one to trust, they find themselves trapped in a deadly game of cat and mouse. What makes this mystery especially interesting is that everyone is immediately a suspect: although the reader might suspect everyone from their experiences in previous mystery novels, what is new is that everyone in the story suspects each other as well, creating an environment of suspicion that is evident from the first few chapters onwards.

The mystery deepens as the guests begin to die, one by one, in accordance with a chilling nursery rhyme displayed prominently in the mansion. With each death, tensions rise, suspicions mount, and alliances shift as everyone becomes a potential suspect. Yet, amidst the paranoia and fear, the true identity of the killer remains shrouded in secrecy. One of the most remarkable aspects of “And Then There Were None” is Christie’s ability to create a sense of claustrophobia and isolation, despite the vastness of the island setting. Christie creates a closed world inside the island that the ten guests are in and crafts a mystery narrative that works well with the setup that she has created. She transports readers to a world where danger lurks around every corner and trust is a scarce commodity. As the characters grapple with their own fears and insecurities, readers are drawn deeper, unable to put down the book until the mystery is revealed.

Central to the novel’s appeal is its cast of diverse and enigmatic characters, each with their own hidden agendas and murky pasts. From the aloof Dr. Armstrong to the stern Judge Wargrave, Christie populates her narrative with a colorful array of personalities, each person is concealing secrets that reveal more and more about who potentially is the murderer. As tensions rise and suspicions mount, the true nature of these characters is gradually revealed, adding layers of complexity to an already intricate plot.

“And Then There Were None” also explores deeper themes of guilt, justice, and the nature of evil. Each character is forced to confront their own past misdeeds as they grapple with the consequences of their actions. Through their interactions and inner turmoil, Christie paints a complex portrait of human nature, where the line between right and wrong becomes increasingly blurred. We are unaware if Vera is committing an “evil” act when she shoots Lombard, as it is entirely possible that she is killing the murderer or that she is the murderer herself.

What sets “And Then There Were None” apart from other mystery novels is Christie’s meticulous attention to detail and her ability to subvert expectations. Just when readers think they have unraveled the mystery, Christie deftly introduces new twists and turns, keeping them guessing until the very end. It is entirely possible for the reader to solve the case before the murderer was revealed, and I do believe that she writes in “fair play”, it is only through deduction and very close reading that this happens.

As the narrative hurtles towards its electrifying conclusion, Christie masterfully ties together the myriad threads of the mystery, revealing the true nature of the killer and the motivations behind their actions. One potential criticism that I might have about the book is the ending, where I felt that the reveal was unsatisfactory and done too soon after the murders happened.  Another potental criticism is that some of the characters die too early in the story and their character arcs are not fully fleshed out. I believe that if Christie made the book 50 pages longer, it should be used in the beginning to more in depth write about the characters who die earlier.

In the end, “And Then There Were None” stands as a testament to Agatha Christie’s unparalleled skill as a storyteller of mystery novels. While reading “And Then There Were None” I was engaged in the story and just reading it for the enjoyment of trying to find out the mystery and knowing more about the characters. Her juxtaposition of the actual murder mysteries with the depth of the characters that she writes is excellent and is one of the reasons her books sell so well in my opinion.

Written by Hunter Kuhlemeier

My Her Story Experience

Going into Her Story, I had no idea what to expect beyond the fact that it was an interactive film game. My fellow co-players and I were faced with a mock computer screen, complete with a video-viewing program that had “murder” typed into the search bar and several clips pulled up as a result. We began by investigating the desktop, revealing a “ReadMe” file that told us how to proceed in the game: by typing keywords into the program search-bar which would then reveal to us more clips with the eventual goal of piecing together the full story of what happened. Viewing the initial clips we discovered that the story of the game revolved around a man who had been murdered, and that the woman in each of the clips was his wife. What followed was a long and, at times, frustrating and confusing journey of trying anything we thought could possibly be relevant in order to reveal the full scope of what went down.

At first, the story felt very simple. We learned more about how the couple met, the details of their wedding, their struggles with a miscarriage and infertility, and the state of their relationship. Additionally, we uncovered details of the case such as the evidence found around the body (a broken watch and a shard of glass for example), the wife’s alibi, and the process that the police went through from the time he went missing to the day the body was discovered to weeks later as they continued their questioning. As we were discovering stuff that felt useful, we also began to uncover scenes that left us confused and uncertain. These included scenes of the wife (Hannah) singing a dark song about a sister being killed and her telling the story of Rapunzel and her childhood obsession with fairytales. 

Rather suddenly, we discovered clips where she was no longer referred to as Hannah, but rather as Eve. This was when the real confusion set in. Had we mixed up the names somehow? Was this a multiple-personality situation? Twins? Doppelgangers? An elaborate act to clear her name? We dug deeper and deeper for answers, eventually revealing the (questionable) truth, that Hannah and Eve were twins who had been separated at birth, who reunited in their youth and began to live life as a single person. That was until they met Simon, the now deceased husband. Hannah got pregnant and in her love forbade Eve from being overly romantic or sexual with Simon- driving the two to live apart as they could no longer continue their ruse. Unbeknownst to Hannah, however, Simon met Eve in a bar and began an affair with her, which eventually led to pregnancy. Hannah and Eve reunited, deciding to tell Simon about their story, but upon the introduction Hannah realized that they not only knew each other, but that Simon was the father of Eve’s unborn child. Thus began the night that eventually led to Simon’s death at Hannah’s hand. 

Is Her Story a “Narrative of Investigation?”

Whether or not Her Story is a narrative of investigation is a complicated question. To one degree or another, we, the players, were engaging in the act of investigation, however the narrative within the game was not really a narrative of investigation. Yes, it was a crime story, but there was no detective (or equivalent) discovering new clues or unraveling mistruths. In fact, we were told from the beginning that the crime had already been solved, but that for whatever reason we were going through the old video evidence. If we accept the premise that the story within the game is not one of investigation, then that begs the question as to whether or not the players doing all of the investigating makes it a “narrative of investigation.” As previously mentioned, we were certainly doing a level of investigating while playing the game. We were listening intently to the clips to try and notice potential words or phrases that could be helpful in finding more, and constantly theorizing about what had happened and trying to piece it together before it was revealed to us. However, I would argue that this process was rather shallow. Generally, other than a few clips we struggled to discover towards the end, it felt pretty clear what we needed to be searched for. If a new name was mentioned, it was probably wise to give it a search, doubly so for pieces of evidence.

We did get the classic mystery experience of throwing out theories and trying to figure out if they were true, such as the nature of Hannah and Eve and who truly killed Simon. One could fairly argue that this makes it a narrative of investigation, that you, the player, create the narrative. However, I half-disagree. The reason it is only half is because there is an aspect of an investigative narrative within the game itself, which is that you are playing as Eve’s daughter who is trying to discover the truth of her mother’s past. That being said, there is essentially no indication of this until you get to the end of the game. There are moments where you see flashes of the daughter reflected in the computer screen, but these are never explained. There is no chance to embody the character in this experience, you are disconnected from what is happening within the game and therefore there is little emotional weight and no sign of this narrative existing until it is revealed. This is not a situation like in analog roleplaying games, where the game facilitates a player-made narrative; instead it just clumsily tries to add one in at the of the game to give some reason behind why you’ve been doing all of this work in the first place.

Ultimately, I don’t believe that Her Story is a narrative of investigation, or at least not a good one (which is not to say that it is a bad game) Yes, there are elements, but in the end it is more of a puzzling database than an actual narrative experience. Yes, the players could create a narrative of their own, but the game doesn’t facilitate this in any way, instead it just plops you in front of a computer with no reference as to what is truly going on and tries to tack something on at the very end to no satisfaction.

In David Bordell’s book “Narration in the Fiction Film,” he makes the claim that the role of viewers of films is to perceive what is happening on screen and make inferences and hypotheses based on that perception. As more information is revealed, they should be refining their inferences and constantly testing their hypotheses using the new information. In detective stories, readers are pushed to continue reading in order to reach that next bit of crucial information which either supports or conflicts with theories that have been formed so far. This loop of hypothesis, testing it against new information, and then reforming and adjusting theories is what keeps readers engaged in the uncovering of new information. Her Story brings this loop to the spotlight by giving its players freedom to decide what kind of information they want to attempt to uncover in order to develop their hypotheses in whichever direction they choose. 

When you begin playing Her Story, you are greeted with the sight of an old computer screen. Your attention will be drawn to the main window where you can see a search bar where the word “MURDER” has been typed and 4 videos beneath that. Readme files on the desktop will also give a narrative introduction, instructions on how the database works and how to interact with it. The main gameplay involves searching for videos from the database and then watching the videos showing the interrogation of an initially unknown woman in which her dialogue contains the search term. These first videos set the stakes and can introduce countless different questions for players to try to answer. Being given the name of the murder victim, players might think to search “SIMON,” hoping for more information about who he was or what happened to him. The woman alludes to some event that happened in February, so maybe “FEBRUARY” could lead to hearing about that anecdote. Our group wanted to figure out who this woman was, so we searched for “NAME” and quickly found an early video where she introduces herself as Hannah. And there are countless other words that people can be led to search for from this starting point. “INNOCENT,” “GUILTY,” “WEAPON,” “DEATH,” or “BODY” could all be reasonable starting points to give a few examples.

At this point, players won’t have very much information to go off of to make hypotheses, but they will have plenty of questions to ask, and with every video they watch, they are likely to come up with even more. To give some examples, starting with “SIMON” as your search term will give players information about some of Simon’s friends, things that he owns, places where he would go, his marriage with Hannah, and the circumstances of his death. Depending on what the player is interested in learning about, they can choose which of these threads to follow next by choosing an appropriate search term.

The ability to search for any keyword means that they players are always free to decide where to aim their information gathering, and the nature of the database means that they are likely to continue to discover new threads that they can pursue. Some players may choose to focus initially on understanding the relationship between Hannah and Simon, while others follow the stories that Hannah tells about her childhood, while others still will want to learn about Simon’s friends and parents. And at any point, they can drop what they’re focusing on to jump to a different search term or revisit one that they considered earlier.

This system makes the otherwise passive activity of listening to these interviews into an active experience. Unlike a movie which will inevitably progress to its conclusion, the only way to discover new information about the case is for the player to pick out potential search terms from what they have learned so far, or from the connections they have made. While narratively these interviews have already happened, the experience to the player feels like they are able to ask questions using the search terms and get answers in their own form of interrogation.

Once the player has acquired enough information about the characters and a general timeline of events, they will begin to realize that they are missing key bits of information that would close gaps in their knowledge. At this point, rather than searching for new threads to follow, it becomes more useful to find ways to answer specific questions you have. This is especially true in cases where you have found multiple clips that are from the same day, but with an unknown stretch of time in between them. It is often the case that the clips which are from that missing time period will give further context that you need to understand the ones around it, but the challenge becomes figuring out what search terms will lead you to the missing clips.

The tactic that my group employed was to focus on what information was missing from the story we had so far and to hypothesize what possible information could be true that would fill in these gaps. From there, we could take words that would be associated with one of our hypotheses and use them as search terms. If no clips came up, then it was likely that this hypothesis was incorrect, and we could move onto testing the next one. To give an example, at one point in the game we began to suspect that Hannah was not the only person we were seeing speak in the video clips. We thought that there was either a case of split personality, or that Hannah had a sister who was pretending to be her. In order to test these theories, we tried search terms like “SISTER,” “TWIN,” and “IDENTITY,” which led us to discovering the character Eve and continue putting together the story.

Again, the freedom that players have in entering their own search terms means that they have the tools to try to test any theories they might have. While a more linear story limits the possible number of hypotheses that characters have time to speculate on and investigate, the open-endedness of Her Story means that any number of theories can be considered and tested.

By Alex Duarte

By: Dylan Hernandez

When I first started reading “Documents in the Case”, I thought it was going to be some suboptimal investigation story, but it was rather unique and intriguing. I found pleasure in reading investigation stories growing up and knew I was in for a treat with this one especially since it was so different. I enjoyed being able to feel like I was helping solve the case because of the little hints and clues.  It reminded me of a video game we played called “A Hand with Many Fingers”, where you get so many clues and don’t necessarily understand what you’re supposed to do with them. I honestly put them pretty close as it feels like it’s left up to interpretation. The game ends when you find the final clue, but you still don’t know who did it. This feels sort of the same, where I began questioning if we were even looking for a killer or looking for a long lost kid.

The setup with the plot is interesting because it isn’t your normal backstory of characters, rather information detailing situations or events in chronological order. We start off with learning about the death of Sir William Beauvoir, Bart., which is how every mystery should begin by showing what we are trying to solve. There were many parts about the backstory that made sense, but still some small details you needed to follow in order to keep up.They decided to keep the central mystery at the heart of the story in order to captivate the reader’s attention. Not letting us know what information on either of the characters was true or not. It’s not like you can believe everything you read especially if it’s coming from a letter or mysterious telegram. Which makes sense considering this involved relationships, motivations and conflicts.

I believe one thing that stuck out to me was the author’s ability to pull together multiple narratives in order to show a rich sense of interconnected lives. We see letters, telegrams, pictures, and other documents that are unfolding pieces of drama right in front of us, but are also invited to interpret this puzzle alongside the characters. What I found so compelling was the amount of detail put into the investigation. As I did feel lost keeping up with it over time, I felt like there was great detail in hints and clues. I think this was a reading that someone could easily stumble over clues, so it’s important to go back if anything ever gets confusing.

I do have a couple pieces of criticism towards this piece. One being the lack of depth in certain characters. For example, it’s not that we are necessarily introduced to every single person you see but it feels like we have some with little to know knowledge of who they are. Meaning, even if you thought they could play a part in the story, it is likely that they didn’t. I think that’s what can throw you off in an instant with these types of stories.

Additionally, I think the reading being mostly in the form of letters is interesting but somewhat off putting. Maybe it’s not that popular of an opinion but I wasn’t a fan of it. I believe the author wanted to add a layer of intrigue and even allow for multiple interpretations. I thought it was creating a larger distance between myself and the characters. Also some of the advertisements, newspaper accounts and personal correspondence give some relevant information to solving this case but others don’t give much. And when you think about that, it could be information to throw you off, but it could also have some meaning that you really need to think about.

However, I do see some shared similarities with the criticisms I have made in a way where they do contribute to the reading. With the letter format, I believe the author used this in a way to explore alternative storytelling approaches in order to keep the reader engaged. There is so much background, some not needed, but so much that is well connected to major characters. Not every letter is the same though, as they have been talking about a character or a certain situation going on. I do still believe each one of them holds some sort of purpose whether you take anything from them or not.

In conclusion, Matthews and Bunner end the story with a peculiar poem. I thought the conclusion of the story was almost left up to interpretation on what could happen next. The plot unfolded throughout the entire reading like any other mystery novel. To me, it seemed like a satisfying conclusion that was able to tie everything together. However, I did think that it left room for reflection. It seems to be describing an eerie haunting in the forest. The documents before are believed to be providing context or hinting at the connection between the poem and the story. Almost making you think that she is identifying herself as a victim of love. I’m not sure if it means choosing a side, dead or alive, but I think it’s pretty convincing that she’s dead. It makes me think, when the forest is sleeping, creatures are still roaming in the night. It makes me think of something scary, like you’re never alone or someone is watching you.

In Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock, we get a glimpse into lives of different characters from a voyeuristic view, similar to how the main character, Jeffries got a voyeuristic view to the lives of his neighbors through his window. 

We got to see how different motives drove different characters to different actions; Miss Lonelyhearts nearly killed herself because she could not connect with any man, while Miss Torso would entertain many different men without feeling true affection for any of them because of the lack of companionship she felt. Although in particular to Miss Torso, it is never directly addressed why she would entertain so many men, we, as an audience can hypothesize – as explained by David Bordwell – that she did so because she lacked companionship based on her interactions in the movie. This hypothesis was proved to be correct at the end of the movie when we see her embrace a man in uniform. Once again, not made explicit, but if we were to compare her excitement with this man to the other men, it is clear that she felt something different for this man. 

In addition to these women, we were also provided insights into why our main character and his love interest, Lisa, were interested in Lars Thornwald’s life. Although they worked towards the same goal, they had different motives for being interested initially. 

As for Jeff, his reason is a bit more straightforward. From the opening scene and dialogue, we understood that Jeff was much different to the rest of his neighborhood. Everyone else seemed to live in a life of routine and mundane activities. It did not seem like anything particularly interesting or ‘active’ happened much in their lives. For Jeff however, based on how he injured his leg and his constant traveling to different countries for his photography job, it all indicated that he lived a life of action. Therefore, the fact that he was now constrained to his wheelchair in his room suggests that he was spying on his neighbors out of boredom. Waking up each day doing the same activities was not enough for him, so instead he people watched. While doing this he noticed that Mr. Thornwald and his wife seemed a bit different than everyone else. Once again, because of how he has structured his life, he felt that what he saw could be more than what it was on the surface. For most people in the neighborhood, if they were spying on the Thornwalds, they would not have thought much of it and would have came up with a boring simple explanation…similar to Tom Doyle. Jeff on the other hand came up with an explanation that connected Mr. Thornwald’s each action to the murder of his wife. Although the inception of his wandering came from boredom, he eventually became so infatuated with the idea of foul play being at hand that he started recruiting more characters into helping him solve what he was witnessing. Although he could not convince Tom Doyle until the absolute end, he did convince Stella, his nurse, and Lisa, his girlfriend. 

Now Lisa originally was skeptical of Jeff’s suspicions. She felt that he was imagining things due to his boredom and he needed to focus more attention on her. The audience’s initial thoughts on Lisa was that she was a girl that wanted to be needed. Even Jeff’s nurse, Stella, went to bat for her. She tried to convince Jeff that he was going to lose a perfect girl because of his refusal to marry her. Jeff of course, was adamant on not wanting to marry her because he felt he could not provide her with what she needed; a pampered, materialistic life. Lisa however, was out to prove to Jeff that she too could live like he did. She loved him so much that she said she would travel and go on adventures with him anywhere he wanted even though that is not the type of woman she was. Thus, when she finally becomes convinced of Jeff’s suspicions, it can be reasonably inferred that part of her reason for being convinced was because she truly thought he was not imagining things anymore, but also because she wanted to prove her adventurous side. To show Jeff how much she cared for him she adapted her lifestyle to his. We see this as she volunteered herself to go into Lars Thornwald’s apartment on many different occasions. Her actions after being convinced of Mr. Thornwald being a murderer could have never been imagined by Jeff. To her credit though, it worked. When she came back from Mr. Thornwald’s apartment after sliding the envelope under his door, the camera was panned to a close-up on Jeff’s face which showed a particular look of joy and content from Jeff towards her that we had not seen yet in the movie. Although we never learn whether the two marry or not, this scene showed that Jeff was finally convinced that Lisa could be the girl for him. 

Further, through Jeff’s boredom, and Lisa’s desire for love, the two were able to catch Lars Thornwald who would have likely gotten away with murder.

Whether or not the man across the way, Lars Thorwald, actually killed his wife is, in my opinion, the least interesting point of consideration within Rear Window.

For one, consider our protagonist, L. B. Jefferies: he’s a photographer who was injured in pursuit of a magnificent shot and has no other source of amusement for the last week of his confinement due to that injury except watching the various apartments nearby. Conveniently, a heat wave has struck, prompting all of those apartments to open the blinds and windows in hope of a cool breeze. Watching as Jefferies, an adult man, watched the ballerina he named “Miss Torso” brought a sense of perverseness to his voyeurism that I realized I would not have felt if the protagonist were, say, a noisy housewife or bored child. And his occupation as a photographer in turn made his observations less creepy, as he had naturally made a career of such observations and could likely turn the habit off no more than a critic observing a movie, and more, as he then should surely be aware of the boundaries of professionalism.

An important thing to note here is that he has been confined to his wheelchair and apartment for six weeks already, with one more go, and he explicitly states “Listen – if you don’t pull me out of this swamp of boredom, I’ll do something drastic.” such as get married. Later his attending nurse, Stella, remarks “I shoulda been a Gypsy fortune teller, instead of an insurance company nurse. I got a nose for trouble – can smell it ten miles away.” before claiming to have predicted the Great Depression. And the last of our trio of amateur detectives, Lisa Fremont, who wishes to be with Jefferies whether he stays with her or she travels with him, argues that people can change and wants to prove that she can survive the tough and sometimes dangerous job of being a photographer and chasing leads. All three are then predisposed to find trouble, even if there isn’t any.

And the film is aware of how skeptical their claims of murder are, as shown through the detective Thomas J. Doyle’s responses to being repeatedly called in for “new evidence”. Towards the end of the film, convinced that Thorwald has murdered both his wife and a dog, our intrepid trio send concerning, if not threatening, unsigned notes and calls to his address, lure him away, dig up his flowers in search of what the dog was executed for uncovering (where they found nothing), break into his home, and steal his wife’s wedding ring. That he physically apprehends Fremont before her arrest and then attempts to murder Jefferies after noticing and confirming his involvement is perhaps the most damning evidence of the fact that he did, apparently, kill his wife, but at the time of watching, when I fully believed he was likely innocent, I just saw it as a man snapping from the stress of repeated harassment on top of whatever was going on with his wife, whether that be legal separation, the advancement of her illness, or something else.

All of this, combined with the class on security and privacy I happen to also be taking at the moment, made me think about the privacy and security implications of these events. Consider the many people using their windows as intended, by opening them in search of a breeze on a hot day, and the insight into their life it gives anyone who decides to pay attention. One could argue that if they actually wanted privacy, they would just not open their curtains. And yet, especially for those living above the ground level, isn’t there a reasonable expectation of some amount of privacy? At least to the extent that people aren’t cataloging all their movements in an attempt to prove some wrongdoing? Is suffering in the stifling dark heat of their apartment the only way they should be allowed to have privacy? But then again, is Jefferies wrong to have just happened to see activity he considered suspicious? And given that a crime was actually committed, is the means of scrutiny justified for the end of catching a criminal? When Fremont broke into Thorwald’s house, was he to blame for leaving the window open such that if he didn’t want someone breaking into his apartment (off the ground floor, mind you), he should have closed it? And is Fremont justified in doing so because Thorwald was “acting suspiciously” or retroactively justified because he had actually killed his wife?

Think about this as a metaphor for modern internet use: if one uses social media as intended and posts about their life, they are making information about themselves public to potentially anyone else who uses the internet. On one hand, we as users do have a responsibility to be aware of what we post and the potential consequences it could have, but this is generally based on reasonable expectations of risk. Normally, posts are seen by family, friends, and online mutuals and we post about things we’ve done or are thinking about, which are generally of very little interest to those outside of our circles. And yet at any time, anyone could be scrutinizing our activity like Jefferies did Thorwald’s, cataloging details that seem innocuous to us but give away more information or a different impression than we intended when put together. If someone considers our activity “suspicious”, are they justified in stalking us, anonymously contacting us online, or by phone, at school, work, or our homes, if they discover that information somehow? Is it our fault for opening the door for them to get that impression or deduce that information, no matter how careful we are? What about if they send the police after us? If they keep going, keep harassing us, keep trying to find evidence of our crimes even when we’re apparently innocent? And if they do actually find something eventually, does that make this sort of behavior okay? One could argue that if you never want to be subject to this, you should just never use social media at all, even if it’s a good way to stay in contact with those you care about, meet new friends, and engage in communities.

To return to Rear Window, I, myself, keep coming back to the various other storylines playing out in the other windows. I think of the musician struggling with his music, the newlywed couple, the couple with the dog that slept outside, the sculptor, the ballerina “Miss Torso”, and the declining mental health of “Miss Lonelyhearts”. They all had their own story going on largely unbeknownst to us; any of them could have been the focus of a more innocuous story. Even further, we could have just as easily imagined any sort of wrongdoing being committed by them all, keeping watch and provoking them to gather evidence. And yet they remained peripheral. Even as “Miss Lonelyhearts” is driven to commit suicide before Jefferies’ eyes, she remains secondary to the investigation of Thorwald; we see her pain, but don’t reach out, barely acknowledging her beyond a footnote in the Thorwald Affair™. It’s arbitrary what catches our attention, just like it’s arbitrary whether we’ll catch the attention of others; life nevertheless goes on. But imagine if one of the windows we saw were shut tightly, with the curtains drawn and never opened; imagine someone alone in the privacy of their hotbox apartment in an attempt to avoid even the potential of scrutiny; and imagine all of the theories about them Jefferies and even we would have come up with anyway just to amuse ourselves.

-Corian