Alfred Hitchcock might be grateful to us all if we would forget "The Lady Vanishes" and "The Thirty-Nine Steps." We pay him the compliment of believing that in his chosen field of melodrama he is a craftsman and stylist, and as a result we raise the passing mark. The later, or Hollywood, Hitchcock might be willing to trade us his reputation for a little charity, and that's the deal we may eventually make.

It would not be easy, however, to indulge him in the case of "Rope," for he seems to offer it as vintage Hitchcock…. [It] develops a portentous theme—one that goes far beyond cops and robbers, spies and crown jewels to examine good and evil and to hint of very dark corners in the human soul. It purports to be serious, so we must take it seriously.

Before getting into the question of "Rope's" thesis, I must protest twice against Hitchcock's mechanics. The first objection is that in a story involving a "perfect" murder (i.e., a tidy one) you may not pretend that the assassin would neglect so obvious a chore as disposing of the victim's hat. The second is that very wealthy New Yorkers are not obliged to put up with large electric signs that overlook their drawing rooms and blaze garish, intermittent light into the eyes of the occupants. Even in his enthusiasm for atmosphere, Hitchcock must observe such things as zoning laws or forfeit that super-realism of detail that has always been his special trick. (pp. 29-30)

The film is full of talk about the moral law, superior and inferior beings, the sensuous pleasures of murder, rare books and chamber music. But it is all virtually pointless because open-and-shut nuttiness makes poor subject matter for ethical hair splitting. Raskolnikov pretty well disposed of the genius theory of justifiable blood-letting, and no one has to pause for a moment over the confusions of a couple of obvious psychopaths.

Despite Hitchcock's virtuosity in keeping the action moving and varied in the confines of one stage set (it is difficult to understand why a picture director should want to perform this unnecessarily confining trick), "Rope" is more fidgety than thrilling….

I don't doubt that something very like "Rope" has happened, just as I don't doubt that there are a number of people around who confuse themselves with the Avenging Angel. But neither disordered state in itself makes very rewarding fiction. (p. 30)