Coolbaugh Comments:
It has been brought to my attention that there are actually people out there who read our reviews on a regular/semi-regular basis. I have admittedly been phoning in my reviews the last couple of weeks…this will be my commitment going forward – to put a little more thought and care into my reviews. No more half-assed attempts to get Davis off my back about not turning in my review on time. I’ll care…if you read about it, I’ll care about it. I apologize for my apathy.
Anyway – ‘Vertigo’ is a film I thought about showing, and to Davis’ “I wanted to show this before somebody else does,” credit, I can dig that. I feel that way about some films. Balance that with letting the inevitable perfect timing materialization come to pass and you have the text book backdrop for ‘Vertigo.’ Of course I hadn’t seen it before.
Another Hitchcock classic, and a very Hitchcock-esque one at that. Jimmy Stewart comes back, adding to the Hitchcock flavor. The punchy dialogue has the meter and vibe very reminiscent of ‘Rear Window,’ and millions of films and shows to come along since then. Of course Stewart is a bit older than his ‘Rear Window’ performance, about 4 years or so, but it feels more like 10. He engages you, as usual, with his wit and charm that made him one of America’s favorite actors of the 50s and 60s. His age, unfortunately, makes him slightly less personal and a little more like a crazy grandfather, as opposed to a really cool uncle. It’s a very natural and human transformation that we can all look forward to, God willing…for that I shan’t judge.
One thing Movienight has taught me is to relax and let the film come to me. With a director like Al, you trust that he’ll earn it all, and he does. As the film progresses we see Stewart hop on the tail of an old friend’s wife, who seems to have taken on a case of split personality, becoming overtaken by the soul of a dead San Franciscan debutant from 100 years earlier. Kim Novak is quite believable as the possessed wife, but all-in-all, lacking of that special je ne sais quois. As he tails her, it becomes more and more obvious that he’s tailing her, yet she seems oblivious. Rather than discount this as “unbelievable,” I now let that take its natural course, and of course Hitchcock earns it. By the end, you realize it’s all a theatrical presentation of the story, and its lack of realism is easily forgiven. Then, towards the end, you come to realize that the lack of realism is terribly deliberate and all part of the plot. Again, all scenes are carefully constructed, and if you find yourself saying “what’s going on?” or “who’s doing what?” Hitchcock drops in a few very convenient mid-film recaps, just to make sure you’re up to speed. Thanks Al. So we see the story unfold, and as he gets closer to putting it all together, you realize that he’s quickly becoming the prey as the tables turn against him. “Mongo only pawn, in game of life.” Tough to get into the film’s greatness without giving it away. Doing that would make it less enjoyable for what few first timers are left out there.
As we learned after the film from Mr. Davis, Hitchcock’s “Dolly Zoom” technique was perfectly created and implemented. It draws you in, and creates a mood that no amount of today’s special effects could create. Timeless, to say the least. The tripped out vertigo eyeball scenes makes one reminisce about the pre-Movienight Wednesday festivities with the projection of iTunes visualizers on the wall while playing online poker at pokerroom.com. So what’s with Hitchcock and the eyes?? He got a thing with eyes? Wasn’t ‘Rear Window’ all through the eyes of Stewart, his binoculars and the window of his apartment? And didn’t somebody get their eyes chunked out in ‘The Birds?’ Maybe something there…Davis will probably speak directly to that with some deeply-rooted misogynistic temptations on the part of Hitchcock. But the eyes…they were there last week too, in ‘C&M.’ Maybe it’s simply a sign that I need to see the eye Doc.
If this film has one fault – to me – it’s the lack of character development or appreciation. I’ve come to learn that what I love about films, more than anything, is my ability to relate to the perils, joys, and emotions of the characters, as was clearly there in spades with the previous two picks. ‘Vertigo’ commits plenty of its resources to the storytelling, tension, and the related techniques, but I failed to give a shit about any of the characters. The balance of screen time and overall attention to the various sub-plots seemed a bit disproportionate to what Hitchcock ultimately wants you to take away. Compare this to ‘Rear Window,’ where you’re instantly drawn into the “I’m going crazy in this apartment and wheelchair and need something to occupy my time” mind of Stewart (not to mention the other characters, whom we hardly spend any time with, but get to know intimately), and hopefully you see my point. I didn’t care whether Scottie got caught spying or not. I didn’t care whether or not Madeleine really was crazy or not. I just didn’t care. Was this intentional? Who knows…all I know is that if left me slightly disengaged. The connecting of the dots was, at the end of the day, erratic. Perhaps we’re encouraged to focus in on the angle that suits us best, however, as storytelling goes, it wasn’t there for me…not on first viewing. I’m quite certain, however, given the acclaim that this film has received over the decades, and the preamble comment that this is Davis’ favorite film, watching the film again will reveal more to me than in the single viewing. I accept this, and will likely see this again sometime.
Hopefully all of those reading our reviews, and following our pics (no doubt with great cynicism and criticism… “Oh, come on, that pic is SO obvious…how about something truly great and innovative, like ‘Battleship Potempkin’”) realize that our selections have now become personal and interperative extensions of a jam we’re all rocking (to pay homage to Nubs’ reference in last week’s review). You can’t just take a great film and drop it on the wall anymore. You’ll get run. Davis let ‘Vertigo’ mature and age until the fruit was ripe for picking. He didn’t rush it, like he might have 6 or 10 months earlier, subjecting himself to a bout of “preciousness.” A couple of movies about wives getting into trouble, getting whacked, raped - what have you, and bam: you’ve got the perfect landscape for ‘Vertigo.’ New jams start up every so often, and the Crew has masterfully taken them, and stretched them…sort of like a great Phish jam. You find yourself going, “how did we get from ‘Straw Dogs’ to ‘Vertigo’ in two weeks?” Unless you’re there, you’ll never know. Behold the evolving soul of Movienight.
Next week Wiener returns to the wall – it feels like a long time since I’ve seen a Wiener pick. I think it must have been way back in May. Looking forward to it.
Nubs Comments:
As prompted by me, Ben kept the misogyny-themed jam session going by returning to the classics. After the heavy bass line Coolbaugh laid down with ‘Straw Dogs’ and the crowd pleasing chords I added with ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors,’ Tooda may have finished the jam with the master of misogyny, Alfred Hitchcock, celebrating his birthday week. Though Hitchcock has a slew of movies that are sexist or kill off their adulteress lead in the shower half way through, Ben chose ‘Vertigo’ to carry on our month long look at Hollywood’s ill treatment of our wives, mistresses, and ghost-like girlfriends. Ben’s preamble really affected the way I viewed this film class classic. Since I’ve already written essays on ‘Vertigo’ and I’m already days late on my review, I will limit this week’s review on what we often ask in Movienight, “Why are we watching this movie? And how is this night different from other times I’ve watched this movie?” For those gentile members who don’t get the Passover reference, I mean I can only discuss this over-seen gem by limiting my thoughts to what was different about it once thrown on the Stucco.
When Ben announced he was continuing with the theme of the month and then the powerfully familiar score revealed the selection to be ‘Vertigo,’ my mind raced ahead to my previous viewings. I quickly arrived at the reason this cog fit into the Movienight wheel. As I watched, the pieces definitely were all there. The ironic thing is that Ben, himself, may not have intended all the perfect connections I saw in the selection. Not exactly.
What I saw in this viewing was another comment on the woman who is punished for her poor choices. As I mentioned in my ‘Straw Dogs”’ review all of the characters, especially the naive, mischievous daughter and the bra-less raped wife, seemed to get what they deserve, as fucked up as that is. In ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors’ I pointed out the irony of the mistress being offed for wanting to confess and do what’s right. ‘Vertigo’ seems to present the perfect case for Kim Novak’s real character, Judy, getting her just desserts. We, the audience, are Scottie; we are teased and coerced into falling in love under false pretenses, then used and tossed aside to have our life completely destroyed.
Then the movie takes a turn, when she writes the letter. We now know more than our lead, Scottie, and can sit in judgment of her actions. We next see her with many opportunities to redeem herself. Immediately, she fails. Rather than do the right thing, she tears up the letter and decides to “have the courage” to stay and live a lie while tormenting her prey with the unknown past. Even after she gets her wish of having him fall for her real persona, granted with some smoke and mirrors, she gets too cocky and puts on the necklace. It’s as if she wants to be discovered and punished for her sin. Even still we can’t accept pure-hearted Scottie as the one to throw her from the rooftops. It is appropriately a nun that sparks her own guilt of the murder, which sends her plunging to poetic justice.
Of course I could, and I have, gone on about the theatricality of the story and the viewer, or offered my take on the meaning behind the use of vibrant reds and greens, but I have spoke to what was meaningful about this viewing of ‘Vertigo’ and why it is different in this forum of Movienight. I wonder if Wiener will continue our pleasant jam about the woes of women or if he will break off into something different.
SELECTOR Comments:
I must start by saying this is the longest review ever written for our site, and I hope you will forgive its length. I could go on endlessly about this film and the meaning it has to me, so trust this is my version of keeping it brief. I regret not mentioning at the outset of the screening that it was, in part, to honor Hitchcock’s birthday that I chose this film. As I feared, Nubs’ assumed that I had discovered the timing after the fact, but that is not the case. I will say I was surprised so many had already seen this film, but as it is a film that bears and almost demands repeated viewings I was happy to present it. I hope you enjoy this critique, it has taken me twelve years to codify my observations about red and green in ‘Vertigo,’ and I detail them here at the end of this review.
‘Vertigo,’ at its core, is a film about obsession. It is also a film that has provoked obsession in its fans, and I am surely to be numbered among them. The first time I saw ‘Vertigo’ I was around seventeen and was lucky enough to have an older brother who brought me to a re release. I was not much of a Hitchcock fan at that point and would not likely have seen it had Josh not brought me there. This film, perhaps more than any other, taught me that filmmaking is, or at least can be, a fine art. Then, as now, I realized that ‘Vertigo’ was among the finest films ever made.
As a student in college and high school I was always bothered by the teacher who would ask, “What is Wordsworth trying to say here?” or “How has Shakespeare tried to make his point?” It seemed to me an arrogant and misguided question. What was Wordsworth or Shakespeare trying to say? Nothing. They said it, and it has endured. We are the ones trying. Trying to figure out what separates their work from the countless poets and playwrights history has forgotten. Critical examination of fine art should not be an effort to presume the artist attempted anything, rather an acknowledgement of the artist’s accomplishment and a humble effort to discern the meaning and purpose of their craft. ‘Vertigo’ does not try to say anything. It says it. We are in the lucky position of reeling from its profound impact and mulling over its layered and troubling meaning.
The opening titles of this film announce its singular tone. The first shot is of a woman’s mouth, then her nose, then her eyes. She is unknown, and she is an object. Bernard Hermann’s powerful theme draws us into her eyes, and we are treated to the first of many mind-bending images Saul Bass created for this film. As with almost every moment in the film, the opening titles suggest a deeper meaning than we can grasp at first, but absent that understanding we are still transfixed. Hitchcock owns his craft, and if you let him, he owns you too. He is not a director who tries - he does, plain and simple. He gives us what he wants us to have, and we try to put the pieces together.
One of the things about Hitch I so admire is his ability to tell only the parts of the story that are important. If it doesn’t matter, it isn’t dealt with. This discipline keeps us engaged even when we don’t know where he’s going. The first example of this technique is in the often-copied opening scene. James Stewart’s Scottie is, along with several other officers, chasing a criminal along San Francisco rooftops. The criminal and his crime remain unknown. We are on this rooftop for one reason. Scottie slips and falls, stuck perilously hanging from a gutter. An unknown cop gives up his pursuit to help him, but he too slips, and falls to his death. This is what we need to know. Scottie failed as a cop, and his failure killed another man (and likely let a criminal go free). What makes this Hitchcock is that he leaves Scottie hanging there. We never see how he gets down because we don’t need to know. Six months later he is shattered, retired, scared of heights and we are off and running.
I suppose I could move through this film, and pick apart the profound meaning I discern in almost every scene, and Hitchcock’s unequaled technique. The use of a proscenium when Scottie first hears the lie about Madeline, the local bookseller employing theatrical lighting when he spins tales of Carlotta, the magnificent nightmare sequence created by the legendary Saul Bass, or the groundbreaking use of the Dolly/Zoom, invented for this film, to viscerally demonstrate Scottie’s fear of heights. I will leave these points, and countless others, to the many authors who have dedicated themselves to Hitchcock and his work. There are two things I would like to address here, the first is the misogyny at work in this film, as this is Movienight, ‘Vertigo’ comes on the heels of two other films with violence towards women at their core. Secondly, I will discuss my personal obsession with ‘Vertigo’ and its use of green and red.
The dimly lit “Argosy Bookshop Sequence” which I mentioned earlier, had audience members complain about projector malfunction when the film was originally shown. This is of note because we had the same concerns in the Back Yard. The sequence grows very dark and theatrical as the Bookseller speaks of Carlotta’s history to Scottie and Midge (Barbara Bel Geddes), and once they leave he turns the light on and we are reminded of the artifice of storytelling. It is in this scene that the Bookseller speaks of the Great Man who built Carlotta’s house but then “threw her away. You know a man could do that in those days. They had the power and the freedom.” He almost laments, it seems, the good old days. ‘Vertigo’ is our third straight film to deal with violence towards and the murder of women. While not a happy subject, I believe more than ‘Straw Dogs’ or ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors,’ ‘Vertigo’ cuts to the core of the issue. It is the objectification of women that leads to such violence. Judah can have Dolores killed in ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors’ because he views her as an irritant. She is an object for him to use, and dispose of when that usefulness has passed. ‘Straw Dogs’ shows a woman ravaged by a former lover who feels their past sexual intimacy entitles him to posses her whenever and however he pleases. Her husband, a seeming coward, protects his house with the ferocity she needed him to protect her with. It would seem here the house as an object has more value than the woman. Both films are obviously troubling, and both seem in their execution to recognize the root cause of the misogyny they depict, but neither film comes close to Hitchcock’s painful and personal examination of the theme.
The women in ‘Vertigo’ are, like Carlotta, quite literally thrown away. Elster throws his wife from the tower in the Spanish Mission. Scottie throws Midge away for reasons unknown, though Bel Geddes beautifully plays the ravages of this abuse. Finally Scottie throws Judy (Kim Novak) away first when he tries to transform her into Madeline and finally when he learns of her betrayal. The final, awful climb to the top of the mission’s tower show much more than the discarding of an objectified female, Scottie’s unyielding abuse and vitriol towards Judy as he pushes her up the stairs almost seems to argue that the cure for men’s fear is the domination of the opposite sex. That Hitchcock chose James Stewart to play this role is unmitigated genius. Stewart was the stalwart hero of his day. He was trusted to play wholesome everymen and American Heroes. He was George Bailey and Mr. Smith, Charles Lindbergh and Glenn Miller. Stewart was as well loved as any figure in modern cinema, and Hitchcock turned him here into a deranged and lascivious coward. An unmarried man obsessed with a woman he cannot posses and driven to make her pay for his own pain and shortcomings. ‘Vertigo’ turns Stewart’s persona inside out, and it is almost as painful a transformation as the one Scottie forces upon Judy. Hitchcock makes profound statements within all of his films, but with ‘Vertigo’ he displays great understanding of the root of violence and the sad, crooked path that leads men to it.
I know I am carrying on, but there is one aspect of this film that I have spent years mulling over, and I would like to finally articulate here my insight and obsession with Hitchcock’s use of green and red in ‘Vertigo.’ To be clear, I have been focusing on his use of these colors since the third time I saw the film in 1994. I was a student at NYU at the time, and it was then that I saw deeper meaning in the colors Hitchcock used, and specifically the interplay of green and red. Here is a list of some of the instances within the film:
-Scottie’s apartment door is RED.
-Madeleine’s car is GREEN.
-When Madeline is first introduced, she is wearing a black and GREEN dress.
-The restaurant in which she stands is blood RED.
-Madeline attempts suicide under the RED arches of the Golden Gate Bridge.
-Scottie wears a GREEN sweater after saving her life.
-Scottie gives Madeline a RED bathrobe when she wakes up naked in his bed.
-Carlotta’s necklace is RED.
-Scottie and Madeline travel to the REDwood forest.
-Judy is first seen wearing a GREEN sweater.
-The large sign at the Empire Hotel is RED.
-When the neon is turned on at night the hotel sign is GREEN.
There are many more instances of these two colors, but when it first occurred to me they were significant, it was in Judy’s room at the Empire Hotel. As I already pointed out, the sign is red during the day, and green at night. But we first see that green glow of the neon sign when Scottie has finally transformed Judy into Madeline. She moves through the ghostly fog from the bathroom and is once again the object of Scottie’s obsession bathed in the glow of green neon tubes. So what? What does this mean? What is Hitchcock trying to say? Hitchcock is not trying to say anything, of course, but I have been trying to find his meaning with these two colors for years. The second major clue that I was on to something occurs in the Redwood Forest. It is here that I discovered the union of red and green was not just on the screen but also in the script. Speaking of the Redwoods, Scottie tells Madeline “Their true name is ‘Sequoia sempervirens’ always green, ever living.” At last I had found it. Green means alive - it is the root of the story’s twist. Green is what Scottie wants. It is his passion, his life, and the object of his desire. As Nubs asked at the screening, so what? What does it mean? What about red? The meaning, I think, is as simple as the fog drenched traffic light, one side green the other red, that I noticed Scottie walk beneath for the first time on Wednesday. Green means go, red means stop. Green is what Scottie dreams of, it is his fantasy, it is the life he wishes he had. Red is reality, it is what he cannot possess, and it is where he lives his life. The single man locked behind the red door of his home, alone and isolated from dreams of love and happiness. He is forced to follow a woman in a green car for days on end. He falls in love. He rescues her, gropingly, from San Francisco Bay and takes her to his home and undresses her and lays her in his bed. When she awakes, he wears a green sweater. He is ready to follow his dreams, but her “husband” calls him and she retreats behind a red bathrobe. It moves forward like this until the two final uses of these two colors. First we have the green light of the Empire Hotel showing Scottie for the last time the dream he will never posses. Finally, crushingly, red returns as the necklace that uncovers the deception he has endured. The green dream of life is turned blood red and Scottie knows his dreams are over. Carlotta’s necklace seals his fate as well as Judy’s and leaves Scottie standing a hundred feet above Judy’s corpse, cured of his fear, but alone and doomed to close himself in forever behind his home’s bright red door.
If you’ve read this far, I thank you, and will wrap it up quickly. I have had those colors and their potential meaning stuck in my head for a long time, and have at long last arrived at what I think it means. I must note that prior to writing this review I read part of a wonderful article by Jim Emerson who discusses Hitchcock’s use of color in ‘Vertigo.’ His excellent work helped me solidify my understanding of green and red in this film, and I don’t want to let his impact on this point go unacknowledged. Ultimately, I am glad to finally grasp those two colors and their use in this great film. Whether it is what Mr. Hitchcock intended I can only guess, but I am thankful for the films that he has left us, and the obsessions they provoke and illuminate.
Happy Birthday to Hitch, and I look forward to wishing Movienight Happy Birthday in just a few short weeks.
As Coolbaugh used to say,
Onward.
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