© 2007 William Ahearn
“Vertigo” bombed at the box office when it opened in
1958 and I mention this only because these days the film regularly shows up
in lists of the top 100 or 250 or whatever best movies of all time. This isn’t
all that rare. Films – and books – that had been savaged or ignored
by critics have rebounded for any number of reasons not the least of which
is an overlooked inherent quality that was missed by those who believe it’s
their job to make cultural decisions for the great unwashed masses.
Based on the novel D’Entre les Morts – for a discussion of the book, go here – by Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac – who
wrote the novel that Henri-Georges Clouzot based “Les Diaboliques”
on – “Vertigo” tells the story of John “Scotty”
Ferguson (James Stewart), a detective who leaves the police department after
the death of a patrolman who falls to his death trying to save Scotty. Scotty
is left with vertigo – a fear of heights – and the film opens
in the apartment of ex-girlfriend Midge (Barbara Bel Geddes) after Scotty
has been released from the hospital and is about to get his remaining Ace-type
bandages removed.
What becomes apparent early on in this film is that Hitchcock is
really working the material. The sloppiness that has marred many of his previous
films (“Notorious,” being the prime example) is gone. This a tight,
post-noir narrative and Hitchcock’s best cinematic work since “Strangers
On A Train.” Composer Bernard Hermann’s work for Hitchcock is
well known and this may be the best example of Hermann and Hitchcock getting
it together. “Vertigo” also utilizes elements that Hitchcock is
not known for: Subtlety and nuance. Eric Rohmer and Michelangelo Antonioni
are masters of subtlety and nuance. Hitchcock never really crossed into this
kind of territory and this is part of the reason that “Vertigo”
shows up on so many great movie lists.
Scotty is hired by an old college friend to follow the friend’s
wife, Madeline Elster (Kim Novak), who has been acting a bit odd. Scotty –
at first reluctant to take the assignment – begins to tail the wife
and there his troubles begin. The wife apparently believes that she’s
the reincarnation of Carlotta Valdez, a woman betrayed generations ago in
San Francisco that committed suicide.
This is a sweet setup and almost classic noir in the base
desires driving betrayal and taking the character over frontiers he knows
he shouldn’t cross. Taking money from a friend and then absconding with
the wife is generally frowned upon in most social circles. Scotty saves the
wife from an apparent suicide attempt when she jumps into the bay beneath
the Golden Gate Bridge. She ends up in his apartment and he begins to fall
in love with her. Madeline responds positively to Scotty’s feelings.
Or does she? One thing we know about Scotty from the scene
where he follows her to her rented apartment and that is that he is an unreliable
witness. She isn’t there and wasn’t there. We know that there
is a Madeline because Midge sees her when Midge is either stopping by to see
Scotty or is spying on him.
So what gives here? Madeline tells Scotty of a dream she
has of a Spanish mission and describes it to him and he recognizes the place
from her description as a restored mission south of San Francisco. They drive
down to the mission and Madeline runs into the mission and climbs to the bell
tower. Scotty – hindered by his vertigo – can’t follow up
the twisting staircase and while frozen near a window he sees Madeline fall
to her death. There is a brief inquest where Scotty is excoriated by the judge
for failing to stop the suicide. Days later – it seems – he has
a catatonic breakdown.
What happens next is what makes this film so baffling and so interesting.
Many people will claim what follows is a spoiler but the concept of spoiling
only applies to contrived books or films. How many times have you seen “Citizen
Kane”? Is Rosebud ever anything but a sled? How many times have you
seen “Casablanca”? Do Rick and Ilsa ever get together in subsequent
viewings? Knowing that Hamlet or Captain Ahab die and that Godot never arrives
doesn’t spoil the genius of the work. If someone saying, “the
butler did it” ruins a work, it wasn’t worth watching or reading
to begin with.
The last reliable piece of information that we have is Midge talking
to Scotty’s doctors and they tell her he may be catatonic for six months
or a year. Then we see Scotty on the street playing detective. He interrogates
the new owner of Madeline’s car; he goes back to Ernie’s, the
restaurant that they ate at so often, he goes to the museum to see if anyone
is looking at the portrait of Carlotta Valdez.
What we don’t see is even more important than what we do see.
We never see Midge, the reliable witness, after her talk with the doctors.
Midge is the anchor of "Vertigo," the only reliable source of information.
And she disappears.
And then he finds her: Judy Barton, a girl who works a counter at
I. Magnin passing on the street who looks like Madeline. Scotty follows her
to her hotel and slowly but surely wins her over to having dinner with him.
We know early on – based on a letter she never gives Scotty –
that she was Madeline. Relentlessly, Scotty makes her over having her wear
the clothes Madeline wore and Madeline’s hair color and style. (Feminists
– who were ripping into the image women were given in books and films
– had a field day with “Vertigo” and while I agree with
much of the sexual politics that the feminists believed I think they missed
the point on this one, but they were right on the money about “Marnie.”)
Scotty takes Judy Barton, dressed as Madeline, back down
the peninsula to the Spanish mission. As they climb the stairs he confronts
Judy with the fact that he knows she was Madeline because she kept Madeline’s
necklace. “You shouldn’t keep a souvenir of a killing,”
he tells her. She explains how Elster, the old college friend, wanted to kill
his wife and they set Scotty up to be the witness. It was the wife that went
off the bell tower. Judy Barton is startled by a figure coming out of the
darkness and falls to her death. Scotty goes out on the ledge and looks down,
apparently cured of his vertigo.
(There is a major cinematic criticism that I do have at this
point and there’s no getting around it. As numerous others have commented,
the bell tower scene was “inspired” by a similar scene in Michael
Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s “Black Narcissus.” Powell
was a master filmmaker and how he used the studio versus how Hitchcock usually
used it shows how brilliant Powell really is. The same cinematographer that
did the Powell film shot “Under Capricorn” for Hitchcock –
a fact that I cannot reconcile. “Black Narcissus” is a beautifully
lit and photographed film and the bell tower scene is pure cinema. If you’re
going to steal – and every writer, painter, dancer and filmmaker does
– then at least equal or exceed what you lifted. Here, Hitchcock is
incredibly disappointing and when I recently watched “Black Narcissus”
I was blown away by how beautiful, suspenseful and exciting the bell tower
scene still plays.)
There is only one movie that I can think of in Alfred Hitchcock’s
work in which the murderer went unpunished and that was “Sabotage.”
Many would argue that the murderer in “Vertigo” also fled successfully
to Europe or parts unknown but I don’t. There wasn’t any murder.
Scotty became as obsessed with Madeline as Madeline was obsessed with Carlotta
Valdez. The Madeline that went off the bell tower was the Madeline Scotty
was in love with.
Scotty never did get out of that catatonic state. It’s the
only scenario that makes sense. What bothered me for the longest time watching
this film over and over was that the second half – after the wife goes
off the bell tower – is beyond belief. If I’ve been rolling around
with some woman over the course of days, I’m going to recognize her
no matter what she’s wearing or how her hair has changed. It makes sense
if Scotty has to find a reason why he let her die to begin with. It’s
also odd that a woman as smart and talented as Judy Barton had to be to pull
off the masquerade to begin with would allow herself to be dumped by the wealthy
man who used her to kill his wife and settle for “a little money”
and end up working at the counter at I. Magnin. If a murder had occurred,
Scotty might have been the helpless dupe but Judy Barton could provide the
evidence – if there were any evidence – to convict Elster. And
Elster – the old college friend – is never portrayed as a villain.
Hitchcock was always generous with the actors who played his bad guys and
never was there any subtlety and nuance in their performances.
Reasonable people – if there are any left – could
argue a different interpretation. That only speaks to the power of the film.
After watching some incredibly bad films by Hitchcock, I didn’t really
believe that the old dog could really make a film this good.
“Vertigo” is – without question – one of
Alfred Hitchcock’s best films.
“Rope” that also stars James Stewart, may be one of the worst films I’ve ever seen by a name director. The concept is intriguing in that the film consists of eight or so 11 minute-long camera shots. Or something like that. This is the kind of thing that fascinates filmmakers but few others would waste such a concept using it to film a second-rate play about a subject that had already been beaten to death. “Rope” is a generic retelling of a play “inspired” by the infamous Leopold and Loeb killing in Chicago in 1924 The implementation of the camera concept is clumsy at best and it’s difficult to balance this film and Hitchcock cheerleaders like Francois Truffaut who swear that Hitchcock is pure cinema. This is not cinema. This is unnecessary.
It’s not that Hitchcock hadn’t sunk to the depths of
staginess before. “Dial M For Murder” certainly fits the bill
although I can understand viewers forgiving the shortcomings of the production
for its supposed “classic” murder mystery aspects. What was unforgivable
was “Juno and the Paycocks.”
Sean O’Casey deserved better. When Hitchcock’s “Juno
and the Paycock” opened in Dublin in 1930, Irish Nationalists took a
copy of the film and burned it in the street. The O’Casey play had been
a great success at the Abbey Theatre but the Hitchcock movie version reduced
the layered plot and faceted characters to a Gaelic minstrel show. And a stumbling,
uninteresting minstrel show at that. Granted, the Irish Nationalists may have
had other motives than the ones I suppose – O’Casey’s follow-up
play, The Plough and the Stars, was an anti-war piece that infuriated
Irish Nationals and ended O’Casey’s relationship with The Abbey
Theatre and his friend William Butler Yeats – but I’m sure the
insulting portrait of the Irish certainly contributed to it. See John Ford’s
“The Informer” instead.
There might be a clearer arc to the degradation of Hitchcock’s
vision as a director than the remake of “The Man Who Knew Too Much,”
starring James Stewart but because this example is so direct I can’t
think of a better one. The original “The Man Who Knew Too Much”
is a fun flick with a good cast and some silly moments but it’s told
visually and the shootout at the end is what cinema at that time could be.
Not a great film but certainly watchable and the killing of the bad guy at
the end is classic. A much better shootout than the silliness in “The
Lady Vanishes.”
The remake of “The Man Who Knew Too Much” is incredibly
annoying and false and contrived and was I only person who had to listen to
Doris Day blaring out Que Sera Sera on the piano who didn’t want to
sneak up behind her and slip a plastic bag over her head? During the course
of doing the research of this retrospective, I’ve gone back and re-screened
films when friends whose opinions I value suggested that they really liked
certain Hitchcock films that I didn’t care for. As a result, I’ve
seen “North by Northwest” and “Vertigo” at least five
times each to make sure that what I’m written is what I actually mean.
Short of a gun held at my head by a psychopath who loves loud noises there
is no way I’m ever seeing this wretched film again. This film is the
epitome of fake cinema and I can understand any director making a bad film
for one reason or another but I cannot understand how an experienced director
such as Alfred Hitchcock could not only loot his own catalog, but trivialize
it so blatantly to boot.
Let’s get something clear right here and now. James Stewart
is one of those Hollywood stars that I’ll always watch. That’s
how I stumbled on Henry Hathaway’s “Call Northside 777”
and Henry King’s “Seventh Heaven” with Simone Simon to name
two of his lesser-known flicks.