WHY is Vertigo considered such a good movie? (spoilers of course)

I just watched this movie this week, and after a few days of mulling it over, I’ve decided I need to come here and discuss it. Help me understand why this is such a good movie, please:

Points:

  • Upon reading the Wiki entry after the movie like I always do, it received pretty mixed reviews when it came out, and only time made it into what it is now.
  • I understand that a lot of new ground was broken by Hitchcock, and this movie was no exception.
  • It’s won all kinds of awards.

Pros:

  • Ok, the idea of the plot was kind of cool. Find a girl that looks like your wife, trick someone into being a witness to her “suicide”, murder your wife, get away scot-free.
  • Some cool graphics effects, and yes, a view into the beginnings of a lot of things.
  • Nice mysterious feeling at least for the first 2/3 of the movie (until the secret was revealed!)

Cons

  • This movie was totally, unfailingly misogynistic, to the point where it genuinely skeeved me out. Points to display this are: [ul][li] Both women die, and none of them men get any kind of punishment, for stalking OR for murder. [] Who the HELL was his girl Friday that he was stringing along, that clearly loved him, but for whatever reason wasn’t with him? []Girls are so stupid as to fall in love with someone who was just hired to follow them around. [] When the detective is dragging Judy around or forcing her to dress up as Madeline she can’t do anything but a few token protests. It reminded me of a Bollywood movie “Help me! Help me!” [] The girl who played Judy can NOT act. Horrible, stiff, acting. So there was nothing to show any reason why he loved her. There was no reason to show why he fell in love with Madeline; she hardly talked and just moped. So he fell in love with her because she was blond and pretty and sad. Excuse me if I :rolleyes: [/ul] - Someone pointed this out in another thread, but I don’t love the acting of those days anyway - everyone is so stiff and stuffy and formal, and even when he is supposed to be grieving over his love he just looks like he lost a contact or something. But I suppose that’s my problem.[/li]- Long, long boring scenes of the detective following her around and just staring at her. I don’t ask for action every moment of my movies, but this was ridiculous.
  • And of course, the icky icky adulterous romance. He knows she is married. They don’t even once seem to think of her husband. I hate when they make adultery seem OK in the movies. I literally turned it off and went away from it at that point, and only went back to it when I discovered that there was more, and the romance was going to stop.
    So…WHY is this movie considered, oh let me see, one of “the best films ever made”? I don’t get it!

I’ll be interested in the answers, Anaamika, because I’ve never liked this movie. Don’t understand why it’s considered such a classic. Even if I were to be convinced it’s good, I still don’t find it entertaining.

Yup. I have never understood the critical veneration for Vertigo either. A fairly mediocre film and not one of Hitch’s ten best IMO and I consider Hitch somewhat overrated in general. My reasons for disliking it are somewhat different to yours. My biggest problem is the murder plot which is must be one of the most ludicrous ever conceived in a film. I found the first hour or so quite effective in building suspense though as often with Hitch films the climax was very abrupt and unsatisfying.

You raise an interesting point about the initial critical reviews of Vertigo. I bet most critics of the day would be utterly baffled by the idea that Vertigo would one day be regarded as a towering masterpiece of cinema. I suspect its critical ascent had a lot to do with French critics and directors like Truffaut who venerated Hitchcock.

I don’t get it, either. I hate this film. When I really detest a movie, I try to just look at it critically–which was helped by the fact that the first time I saw it was for a film theory class. But even if I consider it terms of the woman being oppressed by the male gaze, and psychoanalyze the hell out of it, I still hate the film, and I feel like I’ve wasted my time by even thinking that much about it.

I’ve noticed a pattern with the Hitchcock films I’ve seen–they have a misogynistic streak that’s pretty difficult for me to stomach.

For one thing, the innovative camera effects. This was the film that introduced the contra-zoom. That is the effect where a person in the foreground stays the same size while the background expands behind them. A new effect, uch imitated since then.

I’m a big Hitchcock fan, but I’m not a fan of Vertigo. Oh, it’s well made and the contra-zoom was influential (but, really, no one calls a movie great solely because it invented a particular technical innovation). It’s certainly not a bad film, but Hitchcock has done much better – North by Northwest, Psycho (which was much more influential than Vertigo), The Thirty-Nine Steps, Notorious, Strangers on a Train, Family Plot.

The reason for the critical acclaim is that it’s tale of sexual obsession seems somewhat deep and it is easy to see and point out (if you’re a critic). Hitchcock dealt with it more subtly in other films (Strangers on a Train and North by Northwest), and those films are greater for it.

Vertigo puts all its cards on the table face up. Hitchcock’s better films require that the audience call.

Vertigo is a well-shot movie but not an especially well-written movie.

Of course, what’s really humourous is the cheesy remake Body Double, which includes gruesome violence and sexual content Hitch could never have used, but slaps on a happy ending.

What makes you think that, by the way? I think that after the end of the film the detective explained it all to the police, the husband was arrested and convicted.

Did the detective do anything morally wrong that required “punishment”? Not that I can recall. Maybe he’s weak and slightly creepy, but not any kind of bad guy. But if so, he’s seen the woman he loves die - twice. Isn’t that punishment enough.

Seeing Jimmy Stewart playing a nice guy turning not-so-nice is very interesting, and he pulls it off in a big way. Both Scottie and Judy are obsessed with each other, or rather, with their initial impressions of each other. His was a false impression, a beautiful ghost designed to entrance him; hers was more true at first but his dark side emerged. Both are oppressed by their circumstances (his forced retirement; her part in the murder scheme, driven by desperation for money). It’s about hardcore obsession; you’re not really supposed to understand it so much as be shocked and even horrified by it.

Misogyny and the male gaze? Yep, definitely. That’s part of the plot and part of Hitchcock too. Hitchcock made over starlets like Scottie made Judy into Madeleine. The “cool blonde” Grace Kelly preceded the blonde Vera Miles (who upon rechecking, I see he did ‘make over’), and when Miles became pregnant he snapped up Novak. Her performance is praised by critics, but I see in her Wiki article that Hitchcock later dismissed it.

In this way, the tale of sexual obsession of the characters is really plainly laid out to the audience, but if you know the background, you see how clearly Hitchcock’s own obsession is present as well. I found that interesting to see as a viewer.

It’s a love letter to the city of San Francisco and the surrounding area - see the restored version, please. (There is some controversy about it but my sympathy on reading the arguments tends to land on the side of the restorationists.) My mother thought that the restored version had been colorized, since she was used to old, worn prints of the film.

Girl Fridays who don’t get the guy aren’t that uncommon - Bond and Moneypenny, for instance. It’s a good thing for BelGeddes’ character (Midge) that she didn’t hook up with Scottie, I think, as he had a significant dark side buried in him, or maybe created by his work trauma.

Sure, the murder plot was far-fetched. No worse than many movies these days, and if you hear that your college pal has an utterly crippling fear of heights, that’s really not that bad of an idea - have your “wife” and buddy go for an excursion, she acts insane again and runs up a bell tower that you’re hiding at with the corpse. She “kills herself” while Vertigo-Experiencing Ex-Cop/Loverboy freaks the hell out about how his fear crippled him and killed his lover, then takes off.

I wouldn’t put it down as my favorite, but I can definitely appreciate the value that it has.

You have to be neck-deep in the “auteur theory” of cinema to understand why Vertigo has the reputation it does. Hitchcock is a giant in the field, with themes and tropes that span the canon; RealityChuck points out some examples for comparison. The difference with Vertigo is that these obsessions are not watered down, not diluted: they are expressed as clearly, as stridently, as Hitchcock ever got. If those other movies are sneakily subversive, then Vertigo is a primal scream. The critics (the serious ones, anyway) are fascinated by Vertigo because it seems to be the most direct link into Hitchcock’s psyche, and the lens through which all of his other work should be viewed.

If you’re not an adherent of the auteur theory, or if you’re not interested in using a piece of artwork as a tool for examining the artist behind it, then Vertigo’s qualities are probably lost on you. That’s neither right nor wrong; it just reflects your interests, and the things for which you watch a movie.

This, on the other hand, is not a fair criticism. I have said this before, and I’ll keep saying it: A film can be deep art, on the level of a masterwork of painting or literature. There’s a reason people keep re-reading the great novels, and plumbing their depths; it is an incorrect bias to assert that a movie can be “read” after one viewing. Most are disposable, yes, but the great films can be watched over and over, and get better and better, revealing hidden complexities and deeper themes, over time.

Stanley Kubrick’s films are the typical modern example trotted out to illustrate this. When Barry Lyndon was first released, people said, “WTF?” But now, decades later, it’s acknowledged as a masterpiece, and one of his very best films. Or, for a better example: Full Metal Jacket came out the same year as Platoon. Everybody said, “Yeah, Full Metal Jacket, it’s interesting, but it doesn’t really work, does it? But Platoon, boy, there’s a film for the ages. That’s the movie that gets Vietnam right.” Now? Platoon is a joke and Full Metal Jacket is an enduring work of otherworldly genius.

Please keep that in mind as the reputation of a movie like Vertigo evolves over time. The immediate critical reception is, for the most part, irrelevant.

Hitchcock films are always technically adventurous, and most of his films are playful and comedic, using humor as a buffer from some of the darker themes that he’s consistently interested in exploring. Even Psycho has a generous dose of gallows humor, horrific events aside. But Vertigo is probably the best insight into Hitchcock’s psyche because its emotions are raw, like an open wound, and none of it is leavened by his more jovial side (especially since it’s the Hitch film with the most forlorn and bleak ending of his entire body of work). I would never argue that it’s a fun film, but for me, it’s still a profoundly moving one.

Books have been written on this masterpiece, but I’ll just bring up a few points about it. First, it has a magnificent Jimmy Stewart performance. He’s the emotional anchor of this film, and like many of the great Stewart performances of the 50s (The Naked Spur, Rear Window, The Man from Laramie), it’s infused with subtle layers of doubt, anguish, stubbornness, and pathos. He’s not always particularly sympathetic, but his motives and actions have solid psychological grounding which make him persistently compelling to watch. He is brilliant.

The film is about obssession, and some of the greatest detective/noir stories are about the P.I. who is consistently over his head, even to the last frame (Chinatown and Night Moves are two other more recent, remarkable examples). This is a film about the assertion of power and the manipulation of people, and acts as an interesting metaphor for the act of making a movie (or, in a larger sense, any artistic creation). Like Scotty does with Judy, the director of a film often micromanages the look and feel of a film down to the smallest detail. Any artist can often be unrelenting, dictatorial, and oblivious to the feelings of others in the maniacal pursuit of the fulfillment of his “vision”. With directors, this also may include telling actors how to walk, talk, dress, and behave, to their exacting specifications. Creating art is often likened to giving birth–a process that can be beautiful and torturous in equal measures, and it’s interesting to see how Hitch sees that the impulse to create and to (unintentionally) destroy are not very far from each other. The obssession of an artist can create glorious work but also leave chaos in its personal wake. Through Judy’s Madeleine makeover, Scotty manages to regain and then just as quickly lose his sanity. Artistic creation is a high-wire act, one which Hitch is willing to admit has a darker side.

But the film also acts as an allegory for many romantic relationships. Scotty can’t be happy with Judy’s love when his impulse is to fulfill his fantasy image at the expense of her abused emotions. How many of us have known or been in relationships where one person tried to “fix” or “improve” their partner instead of appreciating them for what they are? There’s nothing misogynistic to admit that there are plenty of dysfunctional, co-dependent relationships, where the need to be loved will overwhelm ones own desires and best interests. While the mechanics of the story give Scotty a “reason” to pursue this obssessive “upgrade”, it’s never depicted as anything less than ugly and hurtful. In all of Hitch’s movies, the relationships in Vertigo (both Scotty & Judy and Scotty & Midge) are the most real and believable, though both are also hopelessly sad.

I dunno that FMJ rates quite that high, but I’m willing to bet that if Platoon isn’t taken as seriously as it once was, it has something to do with lead actor Charlie Sheen’s later career in cheesy comedies and his over-tabloided personal life.

Well, that, and American angst over Vietnam gradually fading. FMJ wasn’t specifically about Vietnam at all, I figure. It could have been set during Korea or conceivably WW2.

[quote=“Anaamika, post:1, topic:484726”]

[li] Both women die, and none of them men get any kind of punishment, for stalking OR for murder.[/li][/quote]
If you watch the last frame of that film and think that Scotty gets no punishment, then you’ve completely missed the boat. No, he may not be punishable in any legal sense, but he’s killed the woman he’s loved and you can see that he’ll be emotionally devastated for the rest of his life. He’s the walking dead from here on out. And just because Gavin Elster gets away with murder doesn’t make the story misogynistic; that would only be true if the movie approved of him getting away scot-free. It clearly doesn’t.

[quote]
[li] Who the HELL was his girl Friday that he was stringing along, that clearly loved him, but for whatever reason wasn’t with him?[/li][/quote]
You don’t know of any exes who are still “just good friends” with their former lovers, but still secretly carry a torch? Barbara Bel Geddes only has a couple brief scenes, but in just a few short brushstrokes, everything you need to know about her fucked-up relationship with Scotty is right there, plain to see.

[quote]
[li]Girls are so stupid as to fall in love with someone who was just hired to follow them around.[/li][/quote]
She didn’t fall in love with him because he followed her around. She fell in love with him because he saved her life (or at least, that’s what he thought he was doing). Scotty, on the surface, is a gentleman–compassionate, gallant, self-confident. For someone as young and insecure and vulnerable as Judy (who we already know has a thing for older, assertive men), it’s perfectly believable that she’d fall and fall hard.

[quote]
[li] When the detective is dragging Judy around or forcing her to dress up as Madeline she can’t do anything but a few token protests. It reminded me of a Bollywood movie “Help me! Help me!” [/li][/quote]
Well, other than the inconvenient fact that he’s stronger than her, she is still in love with him and is trying to talk sense into him. This isn’t a stranger abducting her; she thinks that if she reasons or acquiesces enough, she’ll regain that connection with him. Don’t also underestimate the real guilt-driven impulse she has to confess for her sin. Why do you think she’s willling to let Scotty make her over in such a ghoulish fashion? Part of it is love and insecurity, but it’s also her penance; it’s not far-fetched that in degrading her own personality, she’s trying to make up for the crime she’s complicit in executing.

[quote]
[li] The girl who played Judy can NOT act. Horrible, stiff, acting. So there was nothing to show any reason why he loved her. There was no reason to show why he fell in love with Madeline; she hardly talked and just moped. So he fell in love with her because she was blond and pretty and sad. Excuse me if I :rolleyes: [/li][/quote]
Well, this is strictly YMMV. You’ll get no argument from me that Kim Novak was not a grand thespian. But Scotty falls for Madeleine because she’s easy to project his own desires on. There’s no specific line where Madeleine’s fabricated “confusion and ambivalence” end and Judy’s actual confusion and ambivalence (about manipulating such a good man; by being an accessory to murder) begin. Novak’s nowhere as good as Stewart, but she handles her key scenes adroitly (especially if you’re familiar with her other film work).

Hitchcock made McGuffin a household name, and the murder is the film’s McGuffin. There’s no suspense for us–especially once we get Judy’s flashback, a good reel before the film actually ends. The movie is about the characters and the emotional dynamics between them. The “mystery” is just a vehicle by which Hitchcock can deliver these things. The proof is the last shot–does Gavin Elster get away with it? Nobody knows, and that’s not the point: This is Scotty’s journey–his descent into hell (remember that dream sequence where he’s falling, and all that Catholic imagery). There will be no closure to his tragedy.

My issue is that because it is a film about Obsession. Hitchcock hits you over the head with it.

I prefer subtlety. But critics usually like films where the theme is glaringly obvious so that they can write about the theme as though they discovered it. It is far more interesting to look into the sexual obsession between Bruno and Guy in Strangers on a Train than to have it hitting you over the head.

I just want to thank everybody for the great, thoughtful comments. I’ll probably never sit through the movie again, but I don’t feel angry about having sat through it the first time.

Oh please, there’s nothing particularly subtle about the obsession in Strangers. The difference is that Bruno is an external force of nature on Guy’s life, but his motives (rich, coddled mama’s boy with daddy issues) are boiler plate. It’s the strength of Robert Walker’s preening, irresistable performance that makes the movie. And you want to talk about misogyny and bad acting–Strangers has a raftload: Farley Granger and Ruth Roman are hopeless, and Guy’s ex–the shrew/slut–is a one-dimensional characterization: instantly hateful and unnuanced. I love Strangers, but because of how it’s playfully executed, not because it has anything that deep to say.

Vertigo burrows into the nature and complexities of obsession, in the variety of ways it manifests itself and the pull-push resistance that has lost souls orbit each other in a dance of self-destruction. Guy isn’t worthy of the doppleganger that Bruno represents, and the movie suffers because of the shocking imbalance this causes. Vertigo is better calibrated; we sense that Hitch is equally interested in Scotty & Judy (if only because they’re both equally messed up in their own particular way), and this makes us care about both of them. We never care about Guy other than because we’re “supposed to”; but Walker’s where all our actual sympathy and enjoyment lies, which makes the film a treat, but nothing that adds additional dimensions with each viewing (and I’m saying that having just revisited Train on the big screen recently).

I actually understand a lot of you say, ArchiveGuy. I may not like it, but I understand it’s there. Let me see:

  • Yes, it was definitely like being hit on the head with it. No subtlety.
  • I can’t agree that the guy who played Scotty did a great job. On the contrary - little emotion, little “heart”. Even his trying to make her over into Madeline lacked real passion.
  • Girls who fall in love with their rescuers are stupid, and it’s not a plot device I love. Still, if it’s presented well enough, I can get around it. This wasn’t presented very well.

I had to go look up auteur theory. Hmm.

Ok, so I am missing some of this right off the bat, because I never really care what, exactly, a director is thinking or why he is making a movie, simply - does it convince? And does it enertain? I’m not saying Vertigo was an altogether horrible movie. I did watch it beginning to end, and I wouldn’t have done that if it was horrible. But I really do think it’s reputation is over-hyped and not necessarily about the movie itself, but rather, about Hitchcock and everything he did for cinema.

At the bottom line, I was really totally unimpressed with Jimmy Stewart. He came off to me exactly like a male “blonde bimbo” - no depth, no character, no personality, just a robot. I guess that’s me…but to really immerse myself into it, I would have to see the attraction to him in the first place, and I never saw it - yet he apparently has girls falling all over him.

These responses are fleshing the movie out a bit more, however, so I really do appreciate it. Thank you all.

I think you are overstating the concept of the McGuffin which is usually defined as something the characters care a lot about but the audience doesn’t. The tune in The Lady Vanishes or the formula in 39 Steps are McGuffins. However the murder in Vertigo can’t be dismissed as a McGuffin. After all Hitchcock spends a lot of time building it up and then explains it at great and somewhat tedious length. I would imagine that many viewers do care about the murder and why and how it was committed at least for a part of the film. Also I don’t think you can separate the themes that you talk about from the murder, the details of which do alter Scotty’s obsession for Judy.

And the basic problem with the film IMO is that the murder plot just doesn’t work. It is utterly ludicrous and I can’t imagine anyone in real life attempting a murder in such a bizarrely contrived fashion. You can have great films without a plot: Spirit of the Beehive and 8 1/2 are two that come to mind. But if your film does have a plot, it does need to make at least basic sense IMO and Vertigo’s doesn’t. So while I appreciate all the points you raised in your first post, ultimately they don’t change my view of the film. Obviously YMMV.

This… None of Hitchcock’s works - from the standpoint of the “auterist” stand alone - and Vertigo IN CONTEXT is a very different film than Vertigo out of context.

I’m not fond of Vertigo as a stand alone movie - as a triple feature after Rear Window and North by Northwest, its a different film.

Northanger Abbey really isn’t a great book - its a great book in context.