Review of Vertigo (1958) by Ben D — 25 Jun 2014

It's with no great joy that I must confess that I passionately dislike Vertigo. But it's also with no great shame. I've seen a lot of Alfred Hitchcock movies. I've seen and enjoyed his British movies from the 30's, like The 39 Steps and The Lady Vanishes. I was right there when Hitch transferred to America with his 1940 film, Rebecca (a classic, I might add). And I watched as he found is stride in the 50's with hits like Rear Window and Dial M for Murder. Up until this point, I have pretty much lapped up everything I have seen from this iconic director.

And that is why I find no shame in hating Vertigo. Now, I'm no expert - far from it. But I've seen over twenty Hitchcock movies in my life, and none have been as bad as this. I definitely went in with high expectations. Not only do I have a great track-record with The Master of Suspense, but Vertigo is also considered one of his bests - and one of the best movies ever made ... And to that I ask, "What the heck did I miss?" I cannot fathom anyone who has seen Hitch's actual greats, like North by Northwest, Shadow of a Doubt, and Strangers on a Train, preferring this. I cannot fathom anyone ranking Vertigo ahead of actual "best movies ever" like Casablanca, 12 Angry Men, and It's a Wonderful Life.

I guess it's all a matter of taste. Ranking something as "the best" or "the worst" is extremely subjective. But I just cannot accept the fact that so many people think this is an essential classic.

So real quick, the story centers on Scottie Ferguson. He is an ex-police detective who takes a new job from Gavin Elster, an old friend. The job requires that Scottie follow Gavin's wife Madeleine, who appears to be possessed. But along the way, Scottie falls in love with Madeleine, further complicating the already complicated tangle of relationship drama.

There are a host of things that I didn't like about this movie. Starting out with the plot itself. It's as daft as they come. There are infinitely easier ways to murder one's wife than the method used by Gavin. It's needlessly complicated, there are way too many opportunities for failure, its entire success is hinged on a very unpredictable variable ... it's dumb. Hitchcock is known for his clever plots, but this certainly isn't one of them.

Another thing about the plot, the "big reveal" is completely spelled out to the audience long before Scottie comes to the realization himself . With a good thirty or forty minutes left in the movie, Madeleine/Judy writes a letter to Scottie completely illuminating the plot. She then rips the letter up. This really felt like a punch in the face to the audience. Instead of letting us figure it out as Scottie does, we're spoon-fed the twist.

Then there's the pacing of Vertigo. Pacing is only mentioned in connection to movies if it's exceptionally fast or exceptionally slow. In both cases, fast or slow, poor pacing is frowned upon. And this movie is poor pacing at its finest ... or at its worst, more accurately. The first hour of the movie is an insufferable slog of Jimmy Stewart following Kim Novak, not saying a word. Investigative stalking is only interesting up to a point - and this movie goes twice as far as that point. There's no getting around it (for me at least), at 129 minutes, Vertigo is a snore.

Alright, so after all the wordless following, the film finally unites Scottie and Madeleine/Judy on screen. Supposedly, they then "fall in love." Are you kidding me? The events of the last half hour of the movie prove that their relationship is superficial lust on the part of Scottie, and who-knows-what on the side of Judy. Seriously, in the last half hour of the movie, Judy is abused and domineered by Scottie - she struggles and opposes, but ultimately accepts it; while Scottie doesn't bat an eye. Am I supposed to enjoy this?

And speaking of Mr. Scottie Ferguson, he is one of the most singularly unlikable characters I have seen on-screen in a long while. He is definitely the most unlikable main character I have seen in a film since ... I don't know when. I'm really confused as to whether or not this movie was trying to make me root for him. As I mentioned, his treatment of Judy in the latter parts of the story is shallow and degrading. He proves that he only "loves" her if she looks just right, has the right hair color and style, wears the exact right clothes, etc. So what is their so called relationship based on? What Scottie physically wants. It doesn't matter what Judy thinks or feels. Judy, the real person doesn't matter. Nothing that is real does, to Scottie. Only Madeleine, the unattainable dream, matters. Now, I wouldn't consider myself a radical feminist, but goodness gracious ... the misogynistic vibe this movie gives off is palpable.

And sad to say, everything mentioned above is also often unintentionally funny. By the end, Scottie seems like nothing more than a psychotic pervert. Which I guess could be the point of the movie. But how am I supposed to care about what happens on screen, when I care so little about the main character?

And lastly, what's the deal with the character Midge? She's set-up as a past flame of Scottie's. It's understood that she still has feelings towards him. But then she just disappears. Is there any reason why she was there in the first place? Is there any reason why she was written out of the script with no closure?

The acting doesn't leave much of a good impression. Somehow, someway, this movie manages to make Jimmy Stewart unstoppably unlikable. His performance isn't nearly as nimble as I would have hoped. Stewart was much better and more interesting in Rear Window, and he was stuck in a wheel chair that whole movie. Kim Novak also gives an unconvincing performance as Madeleine/Judy. She didn't, at any point, persuade me that she was in love with Scottie. Not that I blame her, but the movie requires it. And I wasn't convinced for a second.

On the plus side, Hitchcock's trademark direction shines through on multiple occasions. The opening credits are fantastically put together. There's a heck of a dream sequence halfway through the film. There is a beautifully neon scene in a hotel room. The cinematography is exceptional. And Bernard Herrmann's score, while not being specifically memorable, fits the movie very well.

I could go on and on, but I feel like I've already said my peace. While there have been one or two Hitchcock movies I haven't particularly liked, Vertigo marks the first time the director has completely struck out with me. Every once in a while, I'll see an established classic (like Citizen Kane, Ghostbusters, or Bullitt) which leaves me shaking my head, asking "why ... how?" Welcome to the club, Vertigo. Congratulations.

"You shouldn't keep souvenirs of a killing. You shouldn't have been that sentimental." 4/10.