Note: I know that Vertigo can't be considered a horror movie, but it's definitely a thriller with some frightening elements (plus it was playing at a local theater tonight).
Vertigo (1958)
Alfred Hitchcock
"One final thing I have to do...and then I'll be free of the past."
There have probably been a million words written about Vertigo, so there's no point in rehashing what everybody already knows: it's a masterpiece, the use of color and light is genius, the camera work is beyond influential.
I mean, it's impossible to watch something like this, and not be in awe:
There are textbooks written about Hitchcock, and I'm never going to come up with something profound and new at 11:15 pm on a Tuesday night. But I'm going to try anyway.
If you've never seen Vertigo, you should probably get on that. This review will assume that you've seen it, so if you want to skip right to the summary at the end, do so now.
Hitchcock makes it obvious that history is what controls the present. Madeleine's regular fugue state ostensibly transforms her into one of her unknown ancestors (a great grandmother who went "mad" and killed herself at the same age that Medeleine is during the film). Scottie can't move past the trauma of seeing a fellow police officer die while trying to rescue him from a precarious rooftop ledge. It takes the tangible form of vertigo and an acute fear of heights, but this could be read as a more modern day understanding of a situation like this. Scottie clearly has PTSD.
In 1958, just 13 years following the end of WWII, and five years since the end of the Korean War, PTSD was still not well understood or managed. A man in Scottie's situation would look for a tangible solution to a complicated problem. Instead of trying to cope with the horrible situation, Scottie tries to enact a fairly progressive exposure therapy plan, to gradually increase his elevation on a stepstool. But even this ends in a dizzy misery.
I love the role of Midge in this early scene where we learn about Scottie's acrophobia and vertigo. Unlike other classic film noir, Scottie is visiting Midge at her bright and cheery office. Unlike something like the Maltese Falcon, where she'd come to see him in some dark Private Investigator's office. He's the vulnerable one in this scene, and she's the strong, funny, clever, and cool one. She's also confidently independent. At one point Scottie mentions that they were engaged for a brief time in college, which means that this would have been before Scottie went through his trauma. Going back to the past is comforting for him, but he can't escape the problem, and ends up collapsed in her arms.
I really love the scene where Scottie and Madeleine end up at the Muir Woods and study the rings on one of the felled sequoias:
Its age spans from before the Battle of Hastings until 1930. Carlotta (who is really Judy pretending to be Madeleine in a dissociative state) gestures to some rings and points out where she was born and where she died. If you looked at Judy's metaphorical rings you'd also see where Madeleine and Carlotta were created and destroyed. If you studied Scottie's rings you'd see where the rooftop accident took place, like evidence of a forest fire.
He'd suffer a second trauma a few scenes later after Madeleine climbs the mission bell tower to ostensibly jump to her death, fulfilling the prophecy. Scottie's returning trauma triggers his vertigo, and he's unable to save her. This shatters him, and he's left functionally catatonic at the end of the 2nd act.
I love how Hitchcock plays with the audience and with Scottie in the 3rd act. He's tortured by flashbacks of women who look just like Madeleine, and who even go to the same places that she did. As the audience we're baffled by Kim Novak returning with a different hairstyle and makeup. Are we seeing things through Scottie's unreliable eyes, or is that just supposed to be an incredible facsimile?
She's introduced to Scottie and the audience as Judy, the farmgirl from Kansas who moved to San Francisco and is clearly struggling in the big city. She seems uncomfortable with Scottie's advances, but agrees to go to dinner with him. After he leaves so she can get ready for their date, she pens a letter for the audience revealing that she became Madeleine for Madeleine's husband who wanted her dead. Instead of giving the confession to Scottie, she tears it up and dresses for their date. This is the classic Hitchcock scenario: the tension isn't distilled from the mystery, it's from how the characters will react once they discover the truth.
Once Scottie deduces the truth after Judy makes a mistake (wearing a necklace that belonged to Madeleine/Carlotta) his impulse is to bring her back to the scene of her death in order to change his history and save himself from the trauma of being unable to prevent her suicide. Now the tension shifts because the audience knows that Scottie has figured out the truth, but Judy is now unaware.
The final twist in the film is just the best. Scottie confronts Judy, they embrace, and a dark figure looms out of the shadows. A panicked Judy jumps away from the figure, and plunges over the edge; the same window where Madeleine met her end. The shadowy figure steps into the light, and it's one of the mission nuns coming to see what all the noise was about. Scottie is left stunned in the window, unable to ever escape his past traumas.
It's so dark and so bewildering. All that effort to overcome the past, to rehabilitate, to heal, and Scottie has to watch Madeleine die all over again.
I read on wikipedia that there was an alternate ending filmed for European countries where the final scene is Scottie and his old flame Midge enjoying a cup of coffee together, listening to a radio broadcast that the police were closing in on Madeleine's husband/murderer. This sounds incredibly tacked on, and would ruin the devastating tone of the final shot.
Sometimes a dark ending like this can feel unsatisfying or can make the film seem unresolved, but not here. We know exactly what will happen to Scottie, because it's all happened before. We've been a part of it.
It's just another ring on his tree.
I mean, it's impossible to watch something like this, and not be in awe:
There are textbooks written about Hitchcock, and I'm never going to come up with something profound and new at 11:15 pm on a Tuesday night. But I'm going to try anyway.
If you've never seen Vertigo, you should probably get on that. This review will assume that you've seen it, so if you want to skip right to the summary at the end, do so now.
Hitchcock makes it obvious that history is what controls the present. Madeleine's regular fugue state ostensibly transforms her into one of her unknown ancestors (a great grandmother who went "mad" and killed herself at the same age that Medeleine is during the film). Scottie can't move past the trauma of seeing a fellow police officer die while trying to rescue him from a precarious rooftop ledge. It takes the tangible form of vertigo and an acute fear of heights, but this could be read as a more modern day understanding of a situation like this. Scottie clearly has PTSD.
In 1958, just 13 years following the end of WWII, and five years since the end of the Korean War, PTSD was still not well understood or managed. A man in Scottie's situation would look for a tangible solution to a complicated problem. Instead of trying to cope with the horrible situation, Scottie tries to enact a fairly progressive exposure therapy plan, to gradually increase his elevation on a stepstool. But even this ends in a dizzy misery.
I love the role of Midge in this early scene where we learn about Scottie's acrophobia and vertigo. Unlike other classic film noir, Scottie is visiting Midge at her bright and cheery office. Unlike something like the Maltese Falcon, where she'd come to see him in some dark Private Investigator's office. He's the vulnerable one in this scene, and she's the strong, funny, clever, and cool one. She's also confidently independent. At one point Scottie mentions that they were engaged for a brief time in college, which means that this would have been before Scottie went through his trauma. Going back to the past is comforting for him, but he can't escape the problem, and ends up collapsed in her arms.
I really love the scene where Scottie and Madeleine end up at the Muir Woods and study the rings on one of the felled sequoias:
Its age spans from before the Battle of Hastings until 1930. Carlotta (who is really Judy pretending to be Madeleine in a dissociative state) gestures to some rings and points out where she was born and where she died. If you looked at Judy's metaphorical rings you'd also see where Madeleine and Carlotta were created and destroyed. If you studied Scottie's rings you'd see where the rooftop accident took place, like evidence of a forest fire.
He'd suffer a second trauma a few scenes later after Madeleine climbs the mission bell tower to ostensibly jump to her death, fulfilling the prophecy. Scottie's returning trauma triggers his vertigo, and he's unable to save her. This shatters him, and he's left functionally catatonic at the end of the 2nd act.
I love how Hitchcock plays with the audience and with Scottie in the 3rd act. He's tortured by flashbacks of women who look just like Madeleine, and who even go to the same places that she did. As the audience we're baffled by Kim Novak returning with a different hairstyle and makeup. Are we seeing things through Scottie's unreliable eyes, or is that just supposed to be an incredible facsimile?
She's introduced to Scottie and the audience as Judy, the farmgirl from Kansas who moved to San Francisco and is clearly struggling in the big city. She seems uncomfortable with Scottie's advances, but agrees to go to dinner with him. After he leaves so she can get ready for their date, she pens a letter for the audience revealing that she became Madeleine for Madeleine's husband who wanted her dead. Instead of giving the confession to Scottie, she tears it up and dresses for their date. This is the classic Hitchcock scenario: the tension isn't distilled from the mystery, it's from how the characters will react once they discover the truth.
Once Scottie deduces the truth after Judy makes a mistake (wearing a necklace that belonged to Madeleine/Carlotta) his impulse is to bring her back to the scene of her death in order to change his history and save himself from the trauma of being unable to prevent her suicide. Now the tension shifts because the audience knows that Scottie has figured out the truth, but Judy is now unaware.
The final twist in the film is just the best. Scottie confronts Judy, they embrace, and a dark figure looms out of the shadows. A panicked Judy jumps away from the figure, and plunges over the edge; the same window where Madeleine met her end. The shadowy figure steps into the light, and it's one of the mission nuns coming to see what all the noise was about. Scottie is left stunned in the window, unable to ever escape his past traumas.
It's so dark and so bewildering. All that effort to overcome the past, to rehabilitate, to heal, and Scottie has to watch Madeleine die all over again.
I read on wikipedia that there was an alternate ending filmed for European countries where the final scene is Scottie and his old flame Midge enjoying a cup of coffee together, listening to a radio broadcast that the police were closing in on Madeleine's husband/murderer. This sounds incredibly tacked on, and would ruin the devastating tone of the final shot.
Sometimes a dark ending like this can feel unsatisfying or can make the film seem unresolved, but not here. We know exactly what will happen to Scottie, because it's all happened before. We've been a part of it.
It's just another ring on his tree.
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