Vertigo

What a strange, strange film. This viewing was my second – I must have seen it before in the cinema when it was re-released in restored format in the mid 1990’s. The strangest thing is that I had forgotten the twist in the tale that happens two-thirds of the way through. That came as a bit of a shock – it was really like seeing the film for the first time, only worse as I was convinced what I was seeing on the screen was not there the first time. This added to the disorientation that the film naturally creates.

My impression from watching the film the first time was the wonderful atmosphere of 1950’s San Francisco, before the spate of tower blocks that grew in the 60’s and 70’s. Hitchcock’s films always have this wonderful veneer of artificiality, especially with external shots, which in many cases were internal with back projections of course, as he famously hated working outside the controlled world of the paramount studio. For me this gives a unique charm, especially with Hitchcock’s colour films. It’s something that spreads to the general surreality of the cars of the time (in this case a Jag and a DeSoto.)

This time I felt less of this atmosphere I caught the first time. Of course the famous shot of Kim Novak standing in front of the Golden Gate dropping flowers into the water is a masterful shot – perfect composition and lighting – the strange mystery of standing under an enormous bridge.

This time I was struck by several things. I actually think Kim Novak is quite ugly and plain in this movie – and this adds to the strangeness of the piece. Why would a man be so obsessed with this plain girl – a plain canvas perhaps to load on all his desires? After “Madeleine” falls from the tower the first time, I thought this is where the film ends. The dream sequence really surprised me. Barbara Bel Geddes was a delight – but why keep her so frumpy behind the specs? And what happened to Midge after the hospital sequence? The section in the Sequoia Sempevirens forest made me very sad with its reflections on mortality. It was a very effecting moment, beautifully shot. The image of Madeleine’s gloved hand marking out the birth and death of Carlotta on the tree section is very haunting indeed. And the music was a wonderful Herrmann score – modernist in the opening credits and romantic when required.

But what does it all mean finally? Is it the guilt of a fat man’s obsession with young blonds? I always thought Vertigo was fear of heights, but now I find that it is just the dizzying swaying sensation. This could be a description of mad love too, or obsession. It’s a study of mental collapse then. Maybe after the screen goes to black the Jimmy Stewart character jumps after his lost Madeleine?