Vertigo (1/10) My Overall Thoughts & General Reaction

I first saw Hitchcock’s Vertigo when I was about 13 or 14, on a broken up series of YouTube videos back before they screened everything for copyright. At the time, I thought it was alright but nothing too special. I remember being engrossed in the mystery of Madeleine just like Scottie during the first half. I was shocked when they kissed—she’s a married woman and he’s supposed to be a “good guy!” However, I got really bored for awhile after Madeleine died—in fact I distinctly recall leaving a comment on the video where Scottie met Judy and saying “this is my least favorite Hitchcock movie.” By the time Scottie remade Madeleine with an unwitting Judy, the film won me back over to an extent, but that sense of disappointment remained after the end. I didn’t outright dislike the movie, but I was thrown off by the misdirection and I didn’t like any of the characters since none of them were “good people” or even “love-to-hate” villains. I wasn’t yet sophisticated enough to appreciate a film of such moral ambiguity, where the real purpose is hidden in subtext.

Despite that first lukewarm reaction, I discussed the film with some wiser viewers on the IMDb forums who revealed many of the themes I had missed. I would go on to rewatch Vertigo on TV whenever it came on TCM, and eventually bought it on DVD. Slowly but surely I became more engrossed with every subsequent viewing. By my senior year of High School, I recall placing it 5th on a list of my favorite movies when me and my friends were trading recommendations. Once I hit college and had more emotionally charged flings and relationships to draw from, suddenly I appreciated what Hitchcock was really trying to say all along. I came to identify with all the major characters on some level: I’ve been the Scottie unable to let someone go, I’ve been the Madeleine leaving someone heartbroken without even trying, I’ve been the Judy so desperate for companionship that I put up with more than I wanted to, and I’ve been the Midge friendzoning myself just to be near a crush. With these life experiences under my belt, Vertigo has been my #1 favorite movie ever since.

Personally, I believe the key to enjoying Vertigo is to embrace the fact that characters do not act morally or even rationally in this story. The plot is a parable about infatuation and the way it drives us to do things that are illogical–sometimes dangerous. As such, it works on a purely emotional logic. That’s the central theme of the movie in fact—how love and lust can lead us to manipulation by others. These are uncomfortable realities which the vast majority of media are happy to pretend don’t exist. In most films, the story ends with the hero getting the girl and we’re content to believe they lived happily ever after. In actuality, that’s rarely the case, and trying to pretend love never leaves anyone worse off is not only unrealistic but psychologically unhealthy. (He was technically talking about songs, but I think this Frank Zappa quote from his autobiography applies.)

In any case, I love artists who aren’t afraid to express their own vulnerability in their work. I also love art that asks unsettling questions of the audience. This is because it helps us all talk about important yet uncomfortable feelings where nobody wants to be the first to raise the issue. With something films like these, we can then do it in the context of discussing the art itself rather than our own personal experiences and it’s easier to see we aren’t alone in our flawed human experiences. For this alone, Vertigo deserves tremendous accolades, which it has now rightly begun to receive the last few decades.

In the next couple of posts, I will analyze this film a lot more in depth. They don’t need to be read in order.