There’s Something Wrong with Charlie: The Role of the Queer in Shadow of a Doubt
Wren Moody
In his essay “Queer Hitchcock,” Alexander Doty examines the role of queer gender and sexuality across widely influential director Alfred Hitchcock’s large body of work. When defining “queer” for the purposes of his analysis, Doty expands the term past how it is colloquially used to broadly refer to members of the LGBTQ+ community to include all forms of non-heteronormativity. Of these forms, he notes that the most prevalent use of queer sexuality in Hitchcock’s films is incest, typically depicted non-explicitly through uncomfortably close relationships between adult children and one of their parents (Doty 485). Doty refers to this dynamic as the “family romance,” and describes how Hitchcock visualizes these relationships through mise en scène, writing, “…there is usually a sequence set around a bed or in a bedroom, or involving some other intimate object or act […] that anchors incest readings of these Hitchcock films” (486). While Mrs. Bates and Norman in Psycho (1960), Marnie and Bernice in Marnie (1964), and Roger Thornhill and his mother in North by Northwest (1959) are among the most famous examples of this type of relationship, it is not limited to these works, as some form of this dynamic appears in almost every single one of Hitchcock’s films. Once one recognizes the pattern, it is impossible to ignore. However, recognition of the pattern naturally opens the door for a more complex question: why does Hitchcock include these incestuous “queer” relationships in his films? Or, more aptly, what purpose do they serve?
One of Hitchcock’s many films to feature the “family romance” is his 1943 genre-defying thriller Shadow of a Doubt. In the film, which follows a young woman named Charlotte “Charlie” Newton (Teresa Wright) who slowly begins to realize her beloved Uncle Charlie (Joseph Cotton) is a suspect in an ongoing murder investigation, the “intimate object” Doty alludes to in his essay manifests itself as an emerald ring passed between uncle and niece throughout the runtime. The ring, initially introduced as a seemingly innocent gift, soon becomes the focal point of the film’s drama and terror, shifting from an innocuous object to a character in its own right as the tension between Young Charlie and her uncle rises. In discussions of this film, the question of why Hitchcock chooses to portray the relationship between the two Charlies as vaguely incestuous comes up frequently. Is it simply to evoke a disturbed reaction from the audience? Maybe to provide social commentary on the picture-perfect American nuclear family? While its presence does contribute to these notions, this surface-level analysis fails to consider the role of their relationship over the course of the narrative. In this essay, I will use the relationship between the two Charlies in Shadow of a Doubt to argue that the theme of incest is a core component of the Hitchcockian coming-of-age narrative. To illustrate this point, I will first examine how the film employs formal elements such as mise en scène, blocking, and sound design to suggest a pseudo-courtship between the uncle and niece. Then, I will discuss the specific role of the ring in their relationship and how it functions as a beacon of power. Finally, I will analyze how the transferal of the ring between parties acts as a stand-in for an awakening in the younger Charlie. My ultimate goal is to explore the role queer sexuality plays in Young Charlie’s journey throughout the film.
Shadow of Doubt begins with Uncle Charlie, pursued by two men for unknown reasons, travelling from an urban city to the suburban town of Santa Rosa, California under the pretense of visiting with his older sister, Emma (Patricia Collinge), and her family. The scene in which the pseudo-courtship between the two Charlies plays out occurs shortly after his arrival in Santa Rosa, starting with him following her into the kitchen from the dining room. It begins quite simply after a quick shot of the uncle and niece from their positions on opposite sides of the room, with their conversation being composed using the standard shot/reverse shot formula and unaccompanied by a score. Already, through this consistent switch in perspective, a parallel is established between the two. However, it is made very clear who has the power in their relationship through the scene’s blocking. While Uncle Charlie remains rooted in the same spot, Young Charlie slowly moves towards him, seemingly drawn to him as she declares, “We’re not just an uncle and a niece. It’s something else. […] But we’re sort of like twins, don’t you see?” The closer she gets to him, the further she must look up to meet his eyes. Young Charlie’s dialogue in combination with the aforementioned parallel effect achieved by the shot/reverse shot technique emphasizes the theme of doubling introduced by their shared name. By “doubling” down on the two Charlies’ similitude using both visuals and audio, Hitchcock separates their dynamic as something unique from the rest of the family unit. The effect of this choice becomes more apparent as the scene progresses and their relationship becomes less familial.
The second part of the scene begins with a cut from a portrait shot of Young Charlie to a profile shot of both Charlies standing close together, finally united in the same frame. As Uncle Charlie reaches his hand out between them, non-diegetic music begins to play for the first time since the scene began, the score starting quietly before getting louder once Young Charlie offers him her hand. She is pulled towards him gently, the frame shrinking as the camera follows her movement by pushing closer towards them. While the music does not feel outwardly romantic, its softness underscores the two Charlies’ close proximity in the frame, making the moment feel very intimate as he slides the ring onto her finger. Clearly, this is not an act of affection typically seen between uncles and nieces, as the gifting of a ring from a man to a woman is associated with a proposal of marriage. In his 1976 essay “Ideology, Genre, Auteur,” Robin Wood draws attention to the uncomfortable association, writing “there is the business with the ring, which not only, as a symbolic token of engagement, links Charlie sexually with her uncle, but also links her through its previous ownership, to his succession of merry widows” (300-301). By presenting the ring to his niece, Uncle Charlie is staking a claim to her. Wood also addresses this claim by arguing “…that sexual relationships in [Hitchcock’s] work are inevitabl[y] based on power, the obsession-with-power/dread-of-impotence being central to his method as to his thematic” (300). In this scene, Uncle Charlie uses the ring as an extension of the power established earlier through blocking, asserting dominance over his niece. Now that the ring has been given this power, it assumes a more autonomous role in the narrative.
As illustrated thus far, the ring plays a crucial role in the dynamic between the two Charlies, acting as both a symbol of engagement and possession. But, as the ring’s significance grows, becoming a key piece of evidence attesting to Uncle Charlie’s role as a murderer, so does its identity within the film, becoming a character in its own right. Part of that character, despite the film being shot in black-and-white, is the ring’s color. In his analysis of the choice of an emerald for the ring’s stone, William Rothman focuses on color, asserting that, “For Hitchcock, green is the color of dreams, fantasies, and memories […] Green is the color of a world from which the Hitchcockian red and black and white and brown are banished” (201). To support his point, he uses the lighting in Vertigo (1958) during Judy’s transformation into the “ghost” of Madeleine as an example of a fantastical use of green (201). While Vertigo uses the color green for its supernatural associations, green in Hitchcock’s films can also simply denote the unnatural. In The Birds (1963), Tippi Hedren’s character Melanie, an outsider in the small town in which the film takes place, wears a green suit in contrast to the “red and black and white and brown” of the town folks’ clothes. In Shadow of a Doubt, the green of the emerald dips into both explanations, being used as a device in the unnatural relationship between the two Charlies and as an almost “supernatural” force that drives the narrative in a way that objects typically do not. The unnatural characteristic of the ring is further emphasized by the film being grayscale, as the green coloring is not explicitly shown but rather conveyed through Uncle Charlie’s description of the stone, identifying it specifically as an emerald. The lighting in close-ups of the ring also conveys this idea of greenness without the actual color, with the way the stone sparkles and shines in the light feeling almost like an illusion of color impossibly bleeding through the grayscale. The scene that exemplifies this “supernatural” quality is one of the film’s most important.
Building on the ideas surrounding power and sexuality in the kitchen-courtship scene, this scene features a shift in power from Uncle Charlie to Young Charlie as she fulfills her coming-of-age arc. At this point in the film, Young Charlie has discovered her beloved uncle’s murderous secret and subsequently becomes the target of numerous murder attempts as he tries to silence her. The ring, revealed to be the only physical evidence of Uncle Charlie’s murder spree, has been taken and hidden from her. The scene properly begins in the Newton family sitting room where the cast of main characters have all gathered. Once again, there is a lack of non-diegetic sound, placing the focus on the dialogue as the characters converse about the success of Uncle Charlie’s speech. This scene is him at his most powerful, seemingly secure in his victory over his niece as the people of Santa Rosa sing his praises. Before Young Charlie enters the room, the camera is very mobile, following the glasses as they are passed around. However, the second her entrance is recognized by Uncle Charlie, there is a return of the shot/reverse shot technique. In the first shot of this sequence, he smiles up at her as she descends from the top of the stairs, mirroring her looking up at him during their courtship. This reversal in position suggests a reversal in power, confirmed by the camera silently pushing in on the ring, framing it in an extreme close-up on Young Charlie’s finger. Without dialogue or music, the ring speaks for itself, communicating the control she now has over her uncle’s life.
For Young Charlie’s character journey, this moment is incredibly significant. It represents her newfound maturity, something she had to achieve throughout the narrative. She has gone from being possessed by a monster to possessing the monster, taking ownership of her own life. Of this moment, Rothman writes in his own essay, “Charlie’s bold gesture is meant, at one level, as a declaration that she is prepared to expose Charles or kill him rather than let him remain in this home, even if it means Emma’s breakdown” (242). This “bold gesture” is something the Young Charlie of the courtship scene would not have had the power to do, but now, emboldened by the ring, she is able to assume a position of power in her “queer” relationship with her uncle. Her position is only strengthened when the film cuts back to Uncle Charlie, who accepts his defeat with a lowering of his head and the announcement of his departure from Santa Rosa. This scene, considered in conjunction with their earlier courtship scene, illustrates the role incest plays as a theme in the Hitchcockian coming-of-age drama. In the first scene, Young Charlie is receptive to her uncle’s assertion of power, allowing him to use the ring to control her. In contrast, the second scene features Young Charlie as the dominant party in their relationship, forcing her uncle into the submissive position originally reserved for her. Through this shift in power, we see Young Charlie become an independent individual, divorced from her desire to be Uncle Charlie’s double.
Works Cited
Doty, Alexander. “Queer Hitchcock.” A Companion to Alfred Hitchcock, edited by Thomas Leitch and Leland Poague, Blackwell Publishing Ltd, 2011, 473-489.
Rothman, William. “Shadow of a Doubt.” Hitchcock: The Murderous Gaze, State University of New York Press, 2012, 181-254.
Shadow of a Doubt. Directed by Alfred Hitchcock, performances by Teresa Wright and Joseph Cotton, Universal Pictures, 1943.
Wood, Robin. “Ideology, Genre, Auteur.” Hitchcock’s Films Revisited, Columbia University Press, 1989, 288-302.