Details, Details

There has been a strange irony in being unable to see “Rear Window” at its best all these years. Not only is it one of Alfred Hitchcock’s most popular and profound works--the perfect blend of entertainment and art--but the 1954 thriller starring Jimmy Stewart and Grace Kelly is the most famous of all voyeurism films.

But its lack of visual acuity is about to change, thanks to the meticulous restoration by Robert Harris and James Katz (who between them saved “Vertigo,” “My Fair Lady,” “Spartacus” and “Lawrence of Arabia”) and the glorious dye-transfer printing from Technicolor that enhances their work.

You haven’t truly experienced “Rear Window,” at least not within the last three decades, until you’ve seen the latest reissue, which begins a two-week exclusive run at the Nuart on Friday.

Though it’s not as striking or as opulent as “Vertigo,” the difference is revealing for its subtle and discriminating use of color. It’s enough to reconsider “Rear Window’s” visual merits (which earned Robert Burks an Oscar nomination for his naturalistic cinematography).

The reds and greens absolutely shine. And there’s fabulous shadow detail. That’s the beauty of the revived dye-transfer process, which separates the colors into three special film matrices, which are discreet records of the color information. Complimentary dyes are then added to each matrix, which results in truer and more vibrant primary hues as well as blacker blacks, whiter whites and increased sharpness.

“Once we realized the process worked, there were two important advantages: a depth of color that intensifies the viewing experience and the preservation of the restoration negative,” Harris said. “With normal printing, [the negative] would’ve been destroyed after the reissue. But with dye-transfer, you run a couple of prints for color timing, set aside the restoration negative and run your release prints from the matrices. And these prints don’t fade.”

With “Rear Window,” it’s all in the details, and Hitchcock made sure there were plenty to look at. Yet so much was lost because of the incredible abuse and deterioration of the camera negative. (In 1954, it was run 389 times alone, according to printing records.) As a result, the film was plagued by a horrific blandness.

‘It’s a Whole New Experience’

But now everything looks as it should in this witty mystery about a photographer, stuck in a wheelchair because of a broken leg (Stewart at his edgiest), spying on his Greenwich Village neighbors and uncovering a murder.

The soundtrack, too, has been improved. The myriad conversations and noises and Franz Waxman’s jazzy score can now be heard more clearly and crisply, despite defective audio elements.

“For years, people have complained how much they’ve missed,” Katz said. “Before, when the woman laments the death of her dog, all you saw was a dark window. Now the darkness is punctuated by the glow of Raymond Burr’s cigar. You can see in the windows. You can see Miss Lonely Hearts’ emerald green dress up against the purple background. You can see Burr and his wife arguing. You can see knives and saws in his window. You can see the jewelry in his traveling case shimmer. It’s a whole new experience.”

Even the Paramount logo is back. The original studio’s signature mountain peak is superimposed on bamboo shades covering the window of Stewart’s apartment, which gradually rise to reveal the movie’s opening scene and fall as the film concludes. Inprevious reissues by Universal, which had acquired rights to the film, the logo was simply cut out, resulting in a somewhat abrupt beginning and end.

The enormous set seems even more impressive. After a while, you forget you’re looking at a set.

At last, Hitchcock’s strategy becomes clear: Dazzle us with brilliant bursts of color to offset the dull brick courtyard beyond Stewart’s rear window.

But nothing dazzles more than the sight of Kelly in all her beauty and glamour. She’s the real revelation of this restoration, looking absolutely gorgeous, as if she stepped right off the cover of Harper’s Bazaar. Every color and every outfit (selected by Hitchcock in accordance with legendary costume designer Edith Head) evokes a mood of sophisticated seduction.

The magical moment when Kelly makes her grand entrance to kiss Stewart melts away any preconceived notions of her merely as a cool blond. She flaunts her sexuality as never before in a Hitchcock film.

Kelly was made for dye-transfer, with her elegant black and white dress, glistening pearl necklace and earrings, red lipstick and creamy complexion.

That shot alone (digitally restored by Cinesite) proves the importance of this $700,000 restoration, which was financed by Universal Studios, with Bob O’Neil and Bill Varney of the restoration department providing valuable assistance. Meanwhile, YCM Laboratories and Pacific Title/Mirage performed the painstaking lab work.

To bring “Rear Window” back to life, the restorers mixed and matched the remaining cyan and magenta layers from the camera negative with the yellow separation master, creating the restoration negative. It’s a revolutionary procedure perfected by Pacific Title/Mirage.

Oddly enough, the restoration heightens the perversity of Stewart’s obsession with his neighbors. To think that anyone or anything could pull him away from the mesmerizing Kelly crystallizes his fear of commitment. If anything, we feel even more sympathy for her romantic plight.

If only USA Films had more faith in “Rear Window.” The new specialty division of Universal is giving the Hitchcock classic very limited distribution and scant advertising support, yet another sad instance of relegating a restoration to DVD.

That’s no way to treat one of Hitchcock’s own personal favorites, a film that reveals him at the peak of his power and talent. Of all films, “Rear Window” deserves to be seen beyond the art house circuit precisely because of its extraordinary attention to detail and its crowd-pleasing thrills. How else is it supposed to reach a whole new audience?

Finding a Niche in Crowded Market

It’s certainly not what the restorers and Technicolor had in mind. After all, “Rear Window” grossed nearly $8 million during its last domestic reissue in 1983 and ‘84, when Katz handled the marketing and distribution for Universal Classics.

But USA Films has more pressing concerns, juggling “Topsy-Turvy” in major markets in the hope of garnering Oscar support.

However, there are those who believe “Rear Window” should do its own topsy-turvy. “Since there are so many screens out there, you’d think the multiplexes could find a way to play some of these classics to revive interest in them,” noted Paul Dergarabedian, president of Exhibitor Relations Inc., the box-office tracking firm.

And what of the fate of dye-transfer, recently revived after a 25-year absence? So far, it has only been a bold and colorful experiment. Two recent films, “Any Given Sunday” and “Toy Story 2,” were presented in the process in a few theaters without any publicity whatsoever, and the dye-transfer print of “The Thin Red Line” has never been publicly screened.

Without more substantial support from studios and influential filmmakers, dye-transfer will surely die a quiet death, despite its unrivaled pleasures. One drawback is that the process requires more lead time than conventional printing.

“We’ve always believed in dye-transfer and think it has great potential,” Katz said. “I always like to say that it serves the future without forgetting the past.”

“Rear Window” will be either its swan song or its salvation. Whatever happens, at least in terms of film restoration, it’s an exciting way to start 2000.