Week 21: Vertigo
-Judy in Green
An obsessed man is a dangerous thing. His wants, needs, and desires must be actualized before he can be sane. Until then he is lost in a form of madness in which there is no escape, only relentless suffering. Scottie Ferguson is such a man; he has lost the love of his life and is forced to live with her substitute. He cannot accept the substitute for who she is- instead he forces her to reinvent herself to meet his obsessions. The lover submits, and in one grand moment, sacrifices her identity to Scottie’s obsession. The camera swirls, the music plays, and the complexities of the tale- the dichotomy between a dominant man and a trapped woman- become apparent.
I am talking of the great scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo. Scottie (Jimmy Stewart) has forced his new lover, Judy (Kim Novak) to change herself into an incarnation of a dead lover named Madeline. Madeline recently jumped off of a bell tower, committing suicide before Scottie was able to save her. For over a year Scottie’s dreams have been plagued with guilt over failing to save his love. When Scottie spots Judy while wandering down the streets of San Francisco, it is as though lightening has struck him. Judy’s hair is different (a bold red instead of a glamorous blonde), as is her makeup and demeanor. Nonetheless, Scottie instantly sees his former lover in Judy’s eyes.
Scottie and Judy begin to date and soon Scottie’s obsession takes over. He take’s Judy shopping and forces her to buy the same suit that Madeline once wore, in spite it being a model from over a year ago. When Judy asks “Why are you doing this Scottie? I just want you to like me” and attempts to kiss Scottie, he cannot completely make his way to her lips. “The hair” he says, “we need to change your hair.”
The obsession comes full circle in the great scene. Scottie has not seen the “New and Improved” Judy since he paid to have cosmetic work done, he just sits and waits in Judy’s room. When Judy finally gets home something is just not right. Her face, skin and clothes look like Madeline’s, but her hair is not done the same way. Madeline wore her hair in a near bun, while Judy’s is in a clip. Scottie forces her to change her hair. The music (the greatest score by legendary composer Bernard Hermann) is anxious- never achieving climax, the score plays a cruel game of musical tease and denial. Finally, at long last, the door to the bathroom opens.
As Madeline (not Judy) emerges from the bathroom, the score begins to swell. She walks deliberately towards Scottie- the way Madeline walked. As she approaches him a green glow (explained by the neon sign outside the window) surrounds Madeline- she is returning from an unknown place and the green glow is the fog of death. Scottie is in complete rapture. He squeezes Madeline (or was it Judy?) tightly and kisses her. The music is in full force now- but the score is still yearning and un fulfilled. The camera swirls around the lovers; Scottie remembers his past through the images on the screen as the world spins along with the camera. He senses something is off but succumbs to his fantasy, kissing his artificial dream woman. This scene, in all of its beauty and glory alone, make Vertigo a great film. It could be one of the most beautiful three minute sequences in the history of the cinema.
There we go. I have just spent nearly 600 words describing a three minute sequence in a two hour long picture. The sequence really sums up Vertigo, Hitchcock’s undisputed masterpiece. There is a great deal more to the story. For starters, Madeline and Judy are the same woman. Judy impersonated Madeline and agreed to be followed by Scottie so that the treacherous Gavin Elster (Tom Helmore) could kill his wife, the real Madeline. Judy fell in love with Scottie when “playing” Madeline, so when Scottie actually finds her walking down that street she decides to stay in San Francisco and be with him instead of flee.
These may be the narrative peculiarities of Vertigo, but not the feelings. Hitchcock has made a wonderfully complex film here. There are no easy answers. The film gets its title from actual vertigo, the feeling of dizziness and panic that accompanies a fear of heights. It is by no means what the film is about. Instead, the vertigo is simply a framing device- we learn how Scottie obtains vertigo at the beginning of the picture and how he beats it at the end. Sometimes conquering your fears comes at a cost.
Hitchcock has been known for his obsessions. In a rare interview I once watched him describe his greatest fear- the authorities. Hitchcock was scared to death of policeman, detectives and agents of government. This is most obviously referenced in Hitchcock’s Psycho (some audience members claimed the policeman in that film was more frightening than Norman Bates himself) but it is also subliminally apparent in Vertigo. Notice the way the lead of the picture is a detective and former policeman. Sure, Scottie seems nice enough- he is the hero of the picture after all. But are his actions heroic? He follows a woman around town, obsesses over her, forces another woman to succumb to his obsessions, and completely denies the one woman in the film that actual does love him- the character of Midge (Barbara Bel Geddes). Once you know Hitchcock, his fears and desires, you realize that Scottie is neither the hero nor the villain. He simply exists.
Then there is Judy. There has never been a more sympathetic female character in Hitchcock’s entire library. She is no more the villain in the picture than Scottie- she is only a victim of circumstance. Look at the way Hitchcock films her. As a blonde, he forces her to tie her hair back and wear clothing that is traditionally in colors that blondes would not wear in the time period. It is Hitchcock that forces Madeline to walk and speak the way she does in the picture. As Judy, Hitchcock makes her look cheap, he changes the screenplay and makes Judy from Kansas (an inferior place in Hitchcock’s mind). It is clear that she is an independent and vibrant woman, but Hitchcock almost seems to pity her for not having a man in her life. It may not be on the screen, but it is in the subtext.
The best analysis of Vertigo I have ever read is by the great Roger Ebert, whose “Great Movies” column was an incredible inspiration for this very website. In his review, Ebert sums up Hitchcock’s obsession with female characters brilliantly:
“[Vertigo] is *about* how Hitchcock used, feared and tried to control women. He is represented by Scottie, a man with physical and mental weaknesses (back problems, fear of heights), who falls obsessively in love with the image of a woman--and not any woman, but the quintessential Hitchcock woman. When he cannot have her, he finds another woman and tries to mold her, dress her, train her, change her makeup and her hair, until she looks like the woman he desires. He cares nothing about the clay he is shaping; he will gladly sacrifice her on the altar of his dreams.
Over and over in his films, Hitchcock took delight in literally and figuratively dragging his women through the mud--humiliating them, spoiling their hair and clothes as if lashing at his own fetishes. Judy, in ``Vertigo,'' is the closest he came to sympathizing with the female victims of his plots. And Novak, criticized at the time for playing the character too stiffly, has made the correct acting choices: Ask yourself how you would move and speak if you were in unbearable pain, and then look again at Judy.”
I think Vertigo is about more than Hitchcock’s issues with controlling women; it is about his general fear of feminism. Consider the Midge character. She is portrayed by Barbara Bel Geddes as Scottie’s best friend. She lives alone, has never married, paints and designs elaborate bras (the underwire bra illustration is a homage to Howard Hughes). She appears happy, but longs for Scottie. It is obvious that Midge cares deeply for Scottie, but he ignores her- why? My feeling is that Scottie ignores her because of her independence. She does not seem to need anything, least not to Scottie, thus she is no longer an object of desire to him. It is as if Scottie (and Hitchcock) feel that a woman must be possessed (saved) to be an acceptable love interest. An independent woman like Midge immediately is not an option. Watch the film again- you will see.
-The Vertigo Effect
Beyond the subtext of the picture are the images itself. Filmed in glorious 70mm Vista Vision, Vertigo is one of the most beautiful pictures to come out of the Golden Age of Hollywood. Hitchcock and cinematographer Robert Burks transport the viewer into 1950’s San Francisco with breathtaking clarity. The images of the Golden Gate Bridge, the hills, the homes, and the Redwood trees will forever be engrained in my memory. Burks frequently used filters and softeners in sequences to heighten emotion. For example, scenes involving Madeline are always softened with filters that make the environment appear misty and dreamlike. Look at the way the light shines through the Redwood trees, or off Madeline’s hair at the cemetery. It is Burks way of emphasizing illusion to the audience. It is best used in the great sequence described earlier. As Judy eaves the bathroom the filter shines green all around the image of the woman returning from the grave.
Then there are the most famous shots in Vertigo, known as the “Vertigo Effect.” When Scottie is at a considerable height and looks down, the floor appears to stretch- a camera effect used to illustrate his fear of heights. The Vertigo Effect was most significantly used in the multiple bell tower sequences, as the characters ascend the stairways towards their dooms. Using models and tracking techniques, Burks and Hitchcock pulled back the model while tracking in- forcing the camera to extend the shot and create the dizzying effect. The stairwell in the bell tower was fitting for such a sequence. The stairs are in the shape of a concentric square, an image used (along with a concentric circle) to symbolize insanity or madness. Look at the image of the Vertigo Effect above, the floor of the stairwell could be Hitchcock’s “eye”. The stairwell will see both climaxes of the film. The “eye” is a recurring visual motif in the entire picture, from the Saul Bass title sequences to the stairs. The eyes are the windows to the soul and Hitchcock knows this. It is a recurrent theme in all of his pictures, watch the Vertigo sequence, and then watch Hitchcock’s conclusion to his shower scene in Psycho, they are very similar. Now think of the obsession with “boosting” one’s eyesight in Rear Window. See a trend? It is Hitchcock telling you, the audience, to see the souls of his characters as he sees them.
I have said little about the performances in this review. They are what Hitchcock wanted them to be. Jimmy Stewart is obsessed and dangerous in his madness; I think it is his best performance. Kim Novak’s is even better. As Ebert previously described, we see the pain in her eyes. I only wonder if it is really acting we are seeing. Hitchcock was ruthless to his actresses.
Hitchcock was very unhappy with Vertigo. It was not a commercial success. He blamed Jimmy Stewart for being too old and Kim Novak for not being right for the part. It was one of his least favorite films. Now it is considered to be his masterpiece. Maybe Hitchcock saw too much of himself in it. Perhaps it was too personal. It is surely tragic and often depressing- yet also incredibly beautiful. I like to think it struck a nerve with the director. Hitchcock had to make it in order to be honest with the world. Afterwards, he wanted to pretend it didn’t exist. Then again, I don’t know- is a story really a tragedy if the despair is the characters own fault? I don’t know. If Scotty were here I would ask him. Then I would ask Judy and Alfred.
Review and Analysis by Shaun Henisey
Stream the entire film on A Movie A Week- Courtesy of YouTube:
Cast and Credits:
Scottie: James Stewart
Madeline/Judy: Kim Novak
Midge: Barbara Bel Geddes
Paramount pictures presents a film directed by Alfred Hitchcock. Screenplay by Alec Coppel and Samuel Taylor based upon the novel D'Entre Les Morts by Pierre Boileaua and Thomas Narcejac. Cinematography by Robert Burks. Music by Bernard Herrmann.
