Vertigo (1958)
My guess: edarsenal
As I've already mentioned to some people, I honestly don't feel worthy to talk about this movie. It is me and my stupid first world/pretentious/old-movie-fetishizing problem but I was floored by Vertigo.
The two other Hitchcock's I've seen have been Rear Window and Psycho. Both are excellent, and both are in my top 100 movies. Particularly Psycho, which was in my top 20 until Vertigo bumped it out. Maybe I need to chill and let Vertigo sink in but right now it's gonna sit pretty high in my favorites.
Vertigo just completely wipes out any shred of a complaint I might have had about Hitchcock from his two other films. Rear Window has a fantastic story, but the characters could be more fleshed out. Psycho has thrills and great characters, but... um, actually, guess I don't have "complaints" for that one either. Anyways, all I'm trying to say is that Vertigo perfectly balanced suspense/thrills, fantastic characters that you could believe and sympathize with, and a hell of a good story.
The twists and turns of this one outdo even modern classics such as Parasite or the Empire Strikes Back. You don't see them coming - or at least my dumb ass didn't - and they hit you right in the face. I had to process every event, terrified and fascinated at what would happen next. I was getting my own sort of vertigo at the end, falling dizzily into the plot and the characters. In the end it's a tragic tale, one frustrating and disappointing, yet that doesn't make it any worse.
Many critics have brought up the fact that this is basically Hitchcock coping with his own treatment of women in the movies. That is utterly true... he is coming to terms with his verging-on-abuse usage of female actors and even characters. Yet, unlike a lot of people - who are completely valid - I find that doesn't affect my enjoyment. Hitchcock was indeed a sort of monster in real life. Vertigo is the closest we'll get to experiencing that monstrosity as Judy herself is practically abused on screen.
But of course Hitchcock makes it more complex than that. No character gets off easy here, except for maybe the bloody murderer in the first place. Scottie is perhaps the most fascinating Hitchcock protagonist - ok, I guess Marion in Psycho exists, but is she a protagonist? - in that he's a character we sympathize with at first, and slowly begin to question and distrust. How does this happen? Well, I'd say for the first half of this, when Scottie is getting to know "Madeline," he's very likable. Someone trying to cope with a past tragedy, by helping a friend and solving this case.
That's the genius of this first half. Like Psycho, it totally leads you into the wrong direction, and - much like Scottie is being set up - the viewer them self is being set up to think it's about a completely different topic! Imagine watching this for the first time, with no knowledge of the genre/director/any plot points. You might think this was going to turn into supernatural horror! Or at least some sort of possession/Exorcist style thriller. Instead, that's only a ploy so that Scottie's eventual obsession can take hold.
Yet of course that was only a side effect - that's what Scottie's and "Madeline"'s falling in love has done. When Scottie thinks that Madeline herself jumped of the church and died, he begins to see her everywhere. He is truly obssessed, goes into a depressive state, cannot live without her presence. It's a desire beyond love, it's a passion. And when he finally asks Judy - the very same that he did in fact love - about herself, he begins to do a very strange, and ultimately disturbing thing. He tries to change Judy's entire being to model his image of Madeline. It has to be one of the most disturbing parts of any Hitchcock, seeing him transform her, shape her as he pleases. And then kiss not Judy, but Madeline. It's terrifying, and that swinging camera shot proves that she is one and the same to him.
And this whole time, Judy's character has been developing until she is almost as much of a protagonist as him. That final confrontation, on top the church, is so tragic. Both characters are wrought with pain, whether it is guilt, betrayal, terror. Both have done wrong things, and who knows if they yet want to forgive each other. Then, ****ing ****, the nun walking up the stairs scared the CRAP out of me! No wonder Judy slipped and fell to her death. It may seem just like a chance thing that Hitchcock threw in there, but thinking about it more and more, it's a brilliant ending.
I know that's a pretty basic analysis, one that's been done a lot. But it was my first viewing, and I have a LOT to digest. Bernard Herman's score was wonderful as usual. I understand the common complaint that it's overused, sappy, ruins the true suspense. However, I think it works beautifully for - first, helping to subvert our expectations in the first half - and then, in the second half, beautifully setting to music the burning passion both characters have. Possibly Herman's best score??
The script was never what Hitchcock movies was known for, but obviously it's good, nothing "Casablanca" or "Godfather" level. The cinematography is sooo good, those dream/vertigo scenes!!! Amazing!! I wonder what people would have thought back in 1958. It boggles my mind that this got mixed reviews when it was released. But I guess time told who was right, and now it sits proudly at - or near - the top of many, many, great movie lists. Now I can understand why.
ALTERNATE REVIEW:
It's fun fodder, and if I'd been alive in 1958, I'm sure I would've found it to be an ~enjoyable time at the cinema.~ It's really no different than a boring, problematic rom-com from the early '90s.
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