Vertigo

So, Vertigo. This is my second viewing of the film widely considered Alfred Hitchcock's magnum opus, and my reaction remains largely the same: underwhelmed. It's certainly easy to see why Vertigo gets so much critical acclaim: Hitchcock is at the top of his creative game, it features an extraordinary lead performance by James Stewart, and the movie deals with a fascinating subject matter. Unfortunately, much of Vertigo's 129 minutes is a slog, well-made but laboriously paced, with the real meat of the film not coming until the last half hour or so.

John "Scottie" Ferguson (James Stewart) is a police detective who quits the force after his acrophobia (fear of heights) leads to the accidental death of a colleague. Struggling to recover from his injuries physical and mental, he's recruited by an old college friend, Gavin Elster (Tom Helmore) to investigate his wife Madeleine (Kim Novak), whose increasingly erratic behavior has led him to believe she's been possessed by a malevolent spirit. Scottie and Madeleine fall in love, but their romance is short-lived, as Madeleine commits suicide during one of her trances - leaving Scottie even more distraught and guilt-ridden. Scottie, however, meets Judy (Novak), whom he obsessively makes over into the spitting image of his departed love - only to discover belatedly that she was the Madeliene he knew, both pawns in Elster's elaborate plan to murder his wife.

Vertigo's biggest problem is its story structure and pacing. The film shifts gears from a study of guilt to sexual obsession two-thirds of the way through. The early sections of the film is driven primarily by Scottie's sense of guilt - first in allowing his police colleague to die, and then Madeleine. The early scenes of his investigation of Madeliene are very slow, very talky and ultimately a drag - Hitchcock at his worst, without much of his virtues aside from gorgeous photography and art direction. The movie's complete lack of humor, dark or otherwise, is also an odd flaw; Hitchcock excels in inserting humor into even the darkest of his movies, but there's not a trace of his usual wit to be had here, other than the brief scene with Scotty's friend Midge (Barbara Bel Geddes). Towards the end, the movie takes a sharp left turn towards an examination of sexual neuroses, where it becomes really interesting - but it seems only marginally connected to the previous sections of the film, with Scottie's overwhelming guilt complex being sublimated by something even more disturbing.

Indeed, the meat of the movie is its dealing with male sexual obsession - in that regard, it's fascinating and more than a bit disturbing. Scottie slowly falls in love with Madeleine, the archetypical cool, calm and distant Hitchcock blonde - or rather, the image of her, rather than the person herself. Scottie has the pretty, smart and affectionate Midge, his ex-fiancee, right under his nose, but he's too wrapped up in Madeleine to pay her any attention, ultimately driving Midge away for trying to make him see how ridiculous the whole thing is. Scottie would rather accept the fantasy of Madeliene, unable to realize its illusory nature, thanks to the acquiescence of Judy. This does have an interesting biographical tinge, considering Hitchcock's personal life, but in doing so reflects the perversity of male sexuality and the gender roles. Unfortunately, the film takes it time getting to this point - it's not until after Madeleine's death that this part of the story really takes hold, and thus it's the better part of 80 minutes before the story finds its real focus and point of interest.

Certainly, Hitchcock has rarely made a more artistically impressive film. Aside from the cheesy dream-sequence two-thirds of the way through, the movie shines technically, with impressive art direction/set design, wonderfully creative cinematography, and gorgeous use of San Francisco and California locations - no studio sets or painted backdrops here. Bernard Herrman provides a wonderfully dramatic and atmospheric score which adds immeasuribly to the film's atmosphere.

James Stewart gives perhaps his best screen performance as Scottie. Stewart had already radically departed from his pre-World War II nice guy image, with increasingly dark and neurotic characters in films like Winchester '73, Rope, and The Naked Spur, but Vertigo provides perhaps the ultimate seperation from his Mr. Smith Goes to Washington/The Shop Around the Corner persona, exploring the depths of neuroses lurking beneath Scottie's nice guy exterior. Kim Novak does a wonderful job balancing both sides of Judy's character, the icey blonde romantic fantasy and the average girl caught between a rock and a hard place. The supporting cast is largely non-descript, aside from Barbara Bel Geddes as Midge, tragically unable to connect with her increasingly distraught friend.

I'm not going to condemn those who acclaim Vertigo as Hitchcock's finest work and a cinematic masterpiece. But the movie has severe narrative and structural flaws that prevent me from giving it that title. A second viewing only confirmed my initial feelings: that Vertigo is a frustratingly disappointing film that is more interesting than entertaining. If it seems I'm being unduly negative in a review of a 7/10 film, it's only because of the film's reputation as a flawless masterpiece.

Rating: 7/10 - Recommended