There is a moment in Alfred Hitchcock’s Rebecca that can help serve as a key to unlocking the way he felt about the film. It comes about one hour in, not long after Maxim and “I” arrive at Manderley. It is one of the few scenes not found in du Maurier’s novel, and thus can function as a way to not only understand Hitchcock’s feelings about the film, but his auteurship itself — a glimpse into what the film would have been like had he been fully released from Selznick’s restrictions.

The scene begins with “I” walking down Manderley’s grand staircase and into the parlor. There is something off about “I” — she is wearing a black satin dress with ornate flowers sewn on the front and a pearl necklace. Careful viewers of Rebecca will remember that during their courtship in Monte Carlo, Maxim made “I” promise to never wear such things, “or to be thirty-six years old.” Thus, we are warned from the scene’s outset that conflict is near. She walks in to find Maxim fiddling with a small projector — they are going to watch home movies of their honeymoon. He looks up and is surprised by her outfit. “It doesn’t seem your type at all,” he says. He then offers a condescending apology and assures her she looks lovely. “Shall we watch these pictures,” he says. “Yes, I’d love to,” she replies as she fiddles with her hair and looks uncomfortable and out of place. Maxim dims the lights and the footage rolls. Watch what comes next:
Note what happens in the above video: just as “I” wishes that their honeymoon could have lasted forever, the film becomes dislodged and the projection stops. We are reminded that what they are watching onscreen is not only their past, but proof that what is onscreen is no longer their reality, and we wonder if it every truly was. Is the film a lie? A piece of selective memory that glosses over their trouble relationship? Just as we wonder this, the butler Frith (Edward Fielding) enters the room and informs Maxim that Mrs. Danvers (Judith Anderson) has accused Robert (Philip Winter) of stealing a china cupid from Manderley’s morning room. In fact, “I” broke the cupid earlier in the film and hid it in the drawer of Rebecca’s old desk without telling anyone. Maxim asks Frith to tell Mrs. Danvers to get to the bottom of what happened. Once he leaves, “I” confesses to Maxim that she broke the cupid, adding that she feared being thought a fool. She begs Maxim to tell Mrs. Danvers and Frith for her. “Don’t be such a little idiot darling,” Maxim says, “anyone would think that you’re afraid of them.” She is. And just as he finishes, Frith and Mrs. Danvers walk in. Before the latter even gets through the door, Maxim tells her about the misunderstanding. “I” apologizes to Mrs. Danvers, who asks whether it is possible to repair the ornament. “I” tells her it is not; she “smashed it to pieces.” Maxim instructs Mrs. Danvers to find the pieces and see if they can be mended. She is then dismissed.

If we are to understand the broken film as a symbolic reminder of the de Winters’ relationship, then the Danvers interlude is its physical manifestation. Just as the film serves as a reminder of their bygone happiness, the entrance of Mrs. Danvers identifies the source: the hold and presence Rebecca still holds over life at Manderley. Maxim returns to the projector and gets it running again. Watch:

Just as they did earlier in the scene, Maxim and “I” talk as the home movie plays. However, note that this time their conversation centers around not only the honeymoon itself, but about life at Manderley, and “I”’s discomfort and inability to adjust to life there. Hitchcock turns the camera to a close-up of “I”, her face bathed in the flickering light of the film. It is as if she is divided: the light is the happy woman from her honeymoon with Maxim, while the dark is the woman trapped at Manderley. The flickering effect makes her appear like a ghost, as if she is not there or about to wither away. The enchantment of the past has been killed by the misery of the present. She then goes on to say that Maxim must have only married her because she was “dull, gauche, and inexperienced.” There would never be any gossip about her. At this moment, Maxim goes into one of his usual rages. The mention of gossip has reminded him of Rebecca. He stands in front of the projector, blocking the image in full. The screen is completely black: Rebecca’s Manderley has won.

Maxim turns off the projector. “That wasn’t a very attractive thing to say,” Maxim says. “I” agrees. “It was rude and hateful,” she replies. Maxim takes a breath and walks towards her. What is he going to say? “I think I did a very selfish thing in marrying you,” he says, grabbing “I” by the shoulders. Were the home movies that unconvincing? “I” asks what he means. “I’m not much of a companion to you,” he says. “You don’t get much fun do you?” He strokes her face, and tells her she ought to have married a boy, someone who could have been a true companion.  She assures him they are companions. He isn’t so sure. And then: “Our marriage is a success, isn’t it? A great success? We’re happy, aren’t we? Terribly happy?” It turns out, the home movies were that unconvincing. Maxim doesn’t respond. “If you don’t think we are happy, it’d be much better if you didn’t pretend,” “I” says. “I’ll go away.” Maxim remains quiet. She asks for an answer. He turns, and tells her he cannot, he doesn’t even know the answer himself. “If you say we’re happy,” let’s leave it at that. “Happiness is something I know nothing about,” he says as he turns the light off. Rebecca has won. He turns the projector on: