ADDED TO 'GREATEST FAVORITES': Vertigo (1958)

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock

Early in Vertigo, as Scottie tails Madeline all across town, observing her curious behaviors, the streets of San Francisco adopt a quality that feels a touch labyrinthine. Indeed, at this point, a maze is being entered, not just by Scottie in his obsession with this woman, but also by us, as we become drawn into his world. Subsequently, we don’t realize just how lost we’re getting into his world, and by the time Scottie goes mad, having lost his ideal woman as well as attempting to recreate her, the tension of being lost in this maze becomes unbearable for not only him but also the audience, because at the end of this maze is a pitfall, and the question of Scottie reaching that point is not “if” but “when”, and it’s a key element to the thrills that ensue throughout Vertigo.

Perhaps ex-detective John “Scottie” Ferguson (James Stewart) was destined for that pitfall, considering he’s already got a few of the proverbial screws loose, as he is handicapped by acrophobia, only made worse after witnessing a colleague die as a result of Scottie’s condition (albeit, inadvertently). Forced into early retirement, indifferent about the inertia of retirement, Scottie finds purpose once again when he is approached by Gavin Elster (Tom Helmore). Elster wants Scottie to follow and observe the activities of his wife Madeline (Kim Novak), whom he believes to be in danger for superstitious reasons. Scottie agrees, tailing her all over San Francisco, eventually leading to Fort Point, where she attempts suicide by jumping into San Francisco Bay.

It is an attempt that is thwarted by Scottie’s presence – fortunate for Madeline; unfortunate for Scottie. They commence a strange romance, one that ends in tragedy when Madeline yet again attempts suicide, this time successfully when she jumps from a bell tower. Due to his acrophobia, Scottie was unable to intervene, and undergoes severe depression. That is before crossing paths with Judy (Kim Novak, again), who bears some physical resemblance to Madeline. Via Scottie’s desperation, they engage in a relationship, this time on the foundation of Scottie’s attempt to fully transform Judy into Madeline.

It gets even more complicated, when it is discovered that Judy was, in fact, the Madeline that Scottie had been tailing – in reality, Judy was Gavin’s mistress, and her posing as Madeline was part of a conspiracy to get the real Madeline killed. Or was it?

In reading about Veritgo, the term “dreamlike” pops up over and over, and it is certainly an appropriate descriptor. With a soft, thin haze that permeates throughout and a robust and intimate color palette (all complimented by an incredibly score by the one and only Bernard Herrmann), one feels like they’ve entered a completely different world, and it is this dreamlike style that is fundamental to Vertigo’s power (David Lynch certainly took a ton of notes watching Vertigo): without it, the film could be overcomplicated and indulgent; with it, Vertigo frequently makes the viewer question if we really are in reality, as it becomes difficult to trust Scottie’s perception of the world – frankly, I find the conspiracy subplot quite fishy, and I can’t help but wonder if Scottie concocted this story in his head in denial of Madeline’s ultimate fate.

Vertigo is certainly Hitchcock at his most personal and confessional. It’s been brought up many times before, but it needs to be addressed here to continue this piece: Hitchcock certainly had a type when it comes to the women in his movies, with their stark blonde hair and a demeanor that seems suspiciously detached from the world around them – for Hitchcock, women so perfect they cannot be comprehended. From a filmmaker, one so notorious for being controlling and fetishizing, to come forward with the subjects in Vertigo, a film that sympathizes with both Scottie as well as the women in his is maddened grasp, is not only courageous but audacious, as these are personal plights we can relate to in some way, and contemplating Vertigo becomes internally confessional for the viewer as well. We may not all fancy blondes but we’ve all got our ideal type. While unhealthy habits should indeed be called out, it’s difficult to blame any man for trying to manifest their ideals and fetishes into their partner, especially if that perfect woman was once in their world so intimately as Madeline was in Scottie’s.

Not in a million years would I have believed Stewart to be the perfect choice for Scottie. Stewart, for me, is one of the most lovable actors from that time, with a humble and patient demeanor and a voice with a subtle nervousness that I would usually consider quirky. Stewart, and all of these defining traits, was certainly no stranger to Hitchcock, having starred in three other films of his prior to Vertigo. In knowing Stewart so well, Hitchcock uses those very traits against the viewer (not to mention utilizing Stewart’s eyes in a way I’ve never see before), and this bait and switch is startlingly well-executed. In short, I never thought I’d be terrified by James Stewart.

Of course, Vertigo demands discussion less in its technical merits than in its themes, but Vertigo is as technically captivating as it is narratively. Of course, there’s the legendary stretch-shots that convey Scottie’s acrophobia – 60+ years later, it’s still an effective visual. I’ve already covered the dreamlike atmosphere that defines the film, but this is further bolstered with cinematography, lighting, and shot composition that makes everything just a touch off, as if nothing is quite what it seems (the photography during the first museum sequence, in particular, is fascinatingly shot). When Judy first emerges as a fully realized Madeline, with the green neon reflecting off of her, giving her a ghostly aura, is an image that is simultaneously breathtaking and mystifying.

Modern consensus hails Vertigo as not only one of Alfred Hitchcock’s finest films, but one of the very greatest films ever made, alongside the likes of Citizen Kane and 2001: A Space Odyssey. It is such an endlessly layered film that a simple retrospective review cannot do it justice, and I may not have anything new to add to the topic, but not one Hitchcock film has been discussed on Red Eye. Being an involuntary shut-in during the COVID-19 pandemic has led me down the Hitchcock rabbit-hole to pass the time, including a revisit of Vertigo, and it is time to pay my respects and add it to the canon: Vertigo is indeed a masterpiece, not only an arresting mystery that takes you by the throat with a slow but unbreakable grip, but one of the most piercing depictions of sexual fixation ever made.