Somewhere between the transcendent Alfred Hitchcock original and a total misfire lies Ben Wheatley’s shiny new “Rebecca.” An innocuous adaptation of the 1938 novel by Daphne Du Maurier, the latest Net-flick should reignite debate over the reasons why certain properties are exhumed while others aren’t. For something like Hitch’s 1940 classic, a decent justification might be that the new version fleshes out latent meanings in a more satisfying way—the queer relationship between Mrs. Danvers and Rebecca for instance, or Maxim’s masculine toxicity. Instead, Wheatley plays it safe, and throws star power and sumptuous imagery our way as reason enough for his pale, uninventive iteration of the classic gothic horror. It goes down easy enough thanks to Lily James and the already-delicious plot, but Wheatley’s imitation fumbles when it matters most.