The more we get into the 21st century, the stranger the affectations of storytelling in the early 20th century gets. Things that were commonplace — or at least common knowledge — during those times now seem stodgy and incomprehensible. So it’s one thing to view a movie made within that time period, understanding that its characters are a relic of when it was produced, and quite another for that type of film to be reproduced in 2020.
That’s just one of the challenges facing the new version of Rebecca, based on the 1938 novel by Daphne du Maurier. The other is that it is a remake of Alfred Hitchcock’s 1940 version, which won the Best Picture Oscar that year, the only time a Hitchcock film was given the industry’s top prize. When the bar is near universal acclaim, you know you have a steep hill to climb.
The main character of the film is not the titular Rebecca, but rather an unnamed woman (Lily James) who starts off as a lowly assistant to a wealthy woman on vacation in France. She catches the eye of Maxim de Winter (Armie Hammer), and the two embark on a whirlwind romance that culminates in them getting married and moving back to de Winter’s estate named Manderley.
Once there, however, it becomes clear that the memory of de Winter’s former wife, Rebecca, who died in a tragic accident a year prior, remains very much intact. Numerous items emblazoned with her first initial are located throughout the house, and Mrs. Danvers (Kristin Scott Thomas), who was close with Rebecca and continues to run the house, undermines the new Mrs. de Winter’s authority at every turn.
Written by Jane Goldman, Joe Shrapnel, and Anna Waterhouse, and directed by Ben Wheatley, the film practically bathes in the upper crust society most of its characters inhabit. Since many of them are detestable at worst or standoffish at best, the filmmakers don’t appear to be endorsing the lifestyle, but neither do they overly critique it. There’s also nothing original about how it’s portrayed, and the scenes showing the rich enjoying being rich could be from any similar film from the past 80 years.
Thanks to the performances of James and especially Thomas, the story is not undone by its stuffiness. The all-encompassing presence of Rebecca in the house would be stifling for anybody, much less the person who’s trying to take her place. Until the final act, both women do a stellar job at demonstrating their characters’ mutual resentment, and the tension is palpable.
Less successful is Hammer, who’s simply not given much to do. He has a certain type of handsomeness that fits a part like this well, but other than that and being vaguely charming, he’s unconvincing. And when the ending comes around, he becomes even less so, and the script does him no favors.
Making a period film like Rebecca in the modern age requires a deft touch, and while the story holds up, few other elements do. In the end, viewers may feel like the new Mrs. de Winter and want to get away from Manderley in any way possible.
---
Rebecca premieres exclusively on Netflix on October 21.
Only in Austin does recording in a tin can create excellent sound. Specifically, this "tin can" is a 1955 Spartan Imperial Mansion trailer, a spacious mobile home converted into a relatively cramped studio. But the unconventional setup is no match for producer and engineer James Westley Essary.
Essary and his videographer brother, Brantley, have been using the space to build up their inner circle of musicians, capturing intimate performances in professional recordings available on YouTube. Live From The Tin Can premiered its second season on April 15, 2024, and is looking forward to a long string of diverse performances to come. Right now listeners can enjoy Ron Gallo, David Ramirez, Vondré, John Calvin Abney, Angel White, and more on the YouTube channel.
First up this season was Worn-Tin (an amazing coincidence of a name), performing "Hard Ease," "Bitter," and "Kid Changed," a pleasantly lackadaisical series of alt-rock romps, somehow squeezing in two drum sets. Worn-Tin, like many other artists this season on the YouTube series, performed live at South by Southwest in March. The festival, along with the concurrent Luck Reunion, brought a wealth of artists to the Live Music Capital, so the Tin Can crew took advantage of the easy scheduling.
"South By's website is actually a great way to find out who was coming into town," says Brantley. "So we started thinking about things like, what is what is their sound like? What is their performance like, and will that translate into our space? ... [We] just started contacting managers: 'Hey, do you have a free morning, free afternoon? Want to come by?' The sessions only take about a couple of hours."
Although the Essarys are hoping to get more national acts into the Tin Can to boost views, their hope is that over time they can narrow their focus back to local artists. (The series premiere featured Austin band Kelly Doyle.) Beyond the view counts, these recordings are mutually beneficial; Artists don't just get exposure, but lasting high-quality recordings for free, and the brothers get to build a portfolio. Westley, who just goes by his second name in conversation, appreciates the stylistic challenge.
Producer and engineer James Westley Essary does the auditory impossible.Photo courtesy of Live From The Tin Can
"I get to create a little calling card, [and] they get a way to push their new record when they're rolling through town and on tour," says Westley. "As you put out records you get pigeonholed ... I want to make a punk record, and I want to make a metal record. I want to make a country record. So it allows me to be able to dabble in whatever I want — whatever we book in the studio."
Making these connections was Westley's main goal in creating the series during the pandemic. It'd been a loose idea at the producer's prior studio, with occasional shoots for social media. As we all remember, 2019 was not famous for its sense of urgency. But when the studio was "sold out from under" Westley in October, he got tired of hopping from one rental to another.
He bought the trailer in December 2019 and spent the following year working on it. The end of his work coincided with Brantley's desire to move back to Austin from Seattle, so the returning brother provided the property to park the trailer on. The rest was good, old-fashioned pandemic restlessness.
The Tin Can in all its metallic glory.Photo courtesy of Live From The Tin Can
"When you're on the road all the time, you're meeting new bands every day, because you have a different opener or something," says Westley. "And I was like, 'How can I bring that to me?' It's a lot of fun when there's not really any money involved. You're not dedicating a ton of time, necessarily, to it. Bands come here, they have a really great time, [and] it's really nice to be able to host them."
Of course, recording in such a small space has its challenges. Most of the solution was in arranging; not the music, but the musicians. Placing everyone just right minimizes the bleed of certain instruments into other microphones, and as long as the singer stays relatively still, the drums — the biggest culprit — mostly keep their sound to themselves.
Some issues are also fixed with slightly quieter playing, unintentionally creating a sort of sonic brand for the series. It's not all bedroom pop, but the combination of a cozy recording environment and slightly restrained volume makes for some homey performances. This also works nicely for Westley — isn't that happening a lot? — who says he usually prefers listening at home to watching in a crowd.
Still, live recordings add a certain spice to the music. Many music fans will attribute it to the organic mystery of musicians clicking together, but Westley thinks there's something else at play. There's no substitute for practice, and by the time musicians are making live recordings, they've probably played the song live dozens or even hundreds of times. That allows for improvements on the original ideas — sometimes ones that originated in the studio at the time of the first recording.
Ron Gallo squeezes into the Tin Can.Still from Live From The Tin Can
It's also an easy way to make additional income without writing more, he says. Brantley points out that live music has always been at the core of the business.
"Live music has been at the top for forever," says Brantley. "Now we've got artists selling out huge arenas. They're competing with the NFL; They're not competing with movies or TV as much anymore. ... So I love the opportunity to not just record live music, but also film it. You're getting a full experience of both the really compelling live recording [and] even more compelling video to watch them in their element — really playing it live rather than just in a box in the studio."
The next frontier for the Tin Can crew will be hosting live shows onsite. Westley will be in the trailer recording while the band plays outside, and eventually Brantley might start capturing video, too. Also down the pipeline are audio-only live recordings, so listeners can enjoy the tunes without relying on YouTube.
One episode featuring NOBRO from Montreal, Quebec, is out now, with more to come. Next up is Evangeline from Los Angeles. Follow along with Live From The Tin Can ("Like and subscribe," says Brantley with a smile) on YouTube.