Ma; come quick! They're makin' a movie here!

Shadow of a Doubt was a big thing for Santa Rosa in 1943. I was living in Oakland, and remember the family piling into the family car with its "A" gas ration sticker in the windshield to burn up some precious gas to make the trip (a real outing in those days) to Santa Rosa to try and see some movie making. All we saw was the small town (it was a weekend and they weren't filming that day) and some smug citizens trying to look like movie stars.

That opened the door for Santa Rosa, and the next film to be on location there was Happy Land with Don Ameche (one of my favorite movies), and has gone on to include such films as Peggy Sue Got Married, Cujo, and super slasher Scream.

It was the ideal location for screenplay author Thornton Wilder. Wilder, in case you don't recognize the name, is the author of the novel The Bridge of San Luis Rey, which was later made into a movie (another of my favorites, by the way). Wilder was a master at creating ordinary people with ordinary behavior in ordinary situations that suddenly become anything but ordinary. He sure succeeded here.

This is the story of a small town girl, young Charlie Newton (played by Teresa Wright) who was named for her Uncle, Charlie Oakley/Spencer (the name will make sense when you see the movie) played to perfection by Joseph Cotten. Suddenly this favorite Uncle is coming home to Santa Rosa to visit his specially beloved sister and his favorite niece.

Coincidentally, there has been a lot of attention in the news to a serial killer known as "The Merry Widow killer." As might be imagined, this ID gives musical director Dimitri Tiompkin unlimited opportunity to play with the familiar melody. I spent so much time after the movie whistling and humming the Merry Widow Waltz that my mother was almost ready to commit a murder of her own.

The audience is never given an opportunity to forget about the Merry Widow killer, because Charlie's Dad (done with exquisite underplaying by Henry Travers) and a neighbor (done in a wholly natural and credible performance by Hume Cronyn) are murder mystery fanatics and constantly speculating about the killer. Of course, despite the deeply mysterious manner of Uncle Charlie's arrival in Santa Rosa, there could be no connection to the Merry Widow killer -- could there?

This is where this movie shines like a million-candlepower spotlight in the dark. Everything starts out so quietly, so ordinary. Gradually, very gradually, Hitchcock and Wilder guide the cast as they lead us from small town idyllic living to sudden and inescapable confrontation with the most evil of killers! Where once was carefree joy is now abject hatred and terror. But, is it real? Is it justified? Can such horror be true?

In one scene, Uncle Charlie has been angered by Niece Charlie's suspicions, and he confronts her thusly:
"You think you know something, don't you? You think you're the clever little girl who knows something. There's so much you don't know... so much. What do you know, really? You're just an ordinary little girl, living in an ordinary little town. You wake up every morning of your life and you know perfectly well that there's nothing in the world to trouble you. You go through your ordinary little day and at night you sleep your untroubled, ordinary little sleed filled with peaceful, stupid dreams... and I brought you nightmares."

What is this man saying? Is he saying he is, or he isn't? Then, little things start happening. Little things that could be minor accidents or coincidences but could, under worst outlook scenario, also kill someone. And, what about the ring? (trivia: not only is the ring connected to one of the Merry Widow victims, the "BM" {for Bowel Movement} engraving is Hitchcock's trademark toilet reference for this film).

I won't pursue this too much further because I don't want to spoil it for you. The anti-climax is harrowing, and the climax is strictly edge-of-seat. The denoument is a bore, but not enough so to spoil the movie. Alfred is easily found in the early minutes. There is a card game (bridge) on Uncle Charlie's train, and it is interrupted because of Uncle Charlie's supposed ill health. One of the players (Hitch, of course) thus has to throw in his hand until the game can resume. The hand? The complete Spade suit, from Ace to King! Listen to the comment when the hand is shown!

Don't miss this one. It was stated, by Hitchcock himself, to be his personal favorite. His wife, Alma Reville, also contributed to writing the screenplay, and the combination of writing, direction, and acting is without equal -- then, now, or ever!