Hitchcock at his best. Great concept and execution, sadly they don't make movies like this anymore.

the most shocking thing in this movie is that Jimmy Stewart is so ambivalent about marrying Grace Kelly.

Hitchcock binds James Stewart to a wheelchair, deposits him at the picture window of a big city apartment and lets an idle imagination find its own drama. In this case, it's a murder most foul behind the drawn curtains of a neighboring unit. Costar Grace Kelly is refined and magnetic as the fashion conscious would-be fiancée; a model of smooth-talking elegance who, after initial doubts, is soon drawn into the intrigue of what's actually happened in that dark room across the way. After an argumentative start, Stewart and Kelly quickly settle in as a close-knit pair of obsessed observers, stoking each other's suspicions and inducing a steady shared vigil. The issue of their troubled romance is problematic, introduced in the first act and never truly resolved, but that doesn't bother me. I much prefer them as whispering cohorts with a gossipy secret, and the film already has more than enough subplots going on. It's a steaming pressure cooker of a suspense story, one which encourages viewers to second-guess their impressions and then punishes them for doing so. Like a large-scale stage production, the entire tale is told against a single backdrop: an unusually busy, uninhibited residential block. Sir Alfred's aptitude for frugal filmmaking is on full display here, utilizing every inch of screen to fill blanks and enrich the environment. It hustles, it bustles, it stirs in the morning and settles down after dark. We get to know each resident, to learn their habits and patterns, just like Stewart does from his lonely perch. Perhaps a little slow and meandering to start, once the pieces come together and our well-meaning voyeurs take matters into their own hands, it accelerates like a spooked getaway driver.