Vertigo (1958)

(In theaters, June 2000) Every great director can make mistakes once in a while, and while Vertigo has its adherents, I can’t help but feel that Hitchcock dropped the ball with this one; it’s a story with huge structural problems and a baffling finale. This being said, it develops quite nicely, and could forever coast on the talents of Kim Novak and James Stewart. Still, there are inexcusable faults, like the disjointed nature of the film (some cutting required), the disappearance of the girl-friend character and the abrupt huh-inducing finale. It doesn’t hold up nearly as well as Hitchcock’s better films…

(Second viewing, On Cable TV, November 2020) I wasn’t a big Vertigo fan when I first saw it twenty years ago, and considering the impeccable critical acclaim that the film gets these days, I was curious to see it again and see whether two decades’ experiences and a much better understanding of Hitchcock’s career would lead me to another conclusion. Happily, it does; unhappily, I have to live with my first dumb review. Oh, I’m still not overly enthusiastic about Vertigo. I think Hitchcock has done better movies, and its appeal baffles me slightly. I have issues with the construction of the script and its far too hasty revelation (you know the one), as well as the disappearance of a supporting character without explanation. In the wider context of Hitchcock’s career, though, Vertigo is special: Its thematic obsession with, well, obsession neatly reflects other movies of his, and it’s no accident if the object of the protagonist’s fervour is a cool-ice blonde. I strongly suspect that the appeal of the film hovers at a near-unconscious level: not something based on plot or character, but in images, feelings and subtext. But, at long last, I do like it. Not a lot, but I do. James Stewart helps quite a bit, considering that his significantly darker character is epochal. Kim Novak makes for a splendid icon for Hitchcock’s own obsessions. As for San Francisco, well, it’s practically a third character with its multiple landmarks (most of whom I visited during my sole trip to the city!) showing up every few minutes. The plot itself makes slightly more sense than it did twenty years ago, but still hovers on the line of preposterousness. But that’s the nature of Vertigo: not entirely understandable on a purely rational level, and clearly aiming for a wealth of interpretations. I still like Rear Window much better, but I’ve made my peace with Vertigo so much applause.