Category: 1958

Vertigo1It is one of my great hopes for this blog that I watch an established Hollywood classic that I had seen for the first time when I was younger and didn’t particularly enjoy and suddenly find myself transformed by the film’s power upon this viewing where my tastes have matured after three years of reviewing films. Sadly, it hasn’t happened yet. Although I’ve watched films like Lawrence of Arabia or 2001: A Space Odyssey which I loathed as a teenager but appreciated their technical merits as an adult, I’ve yet to find a film that I’ve completely changed my mind about. 1958’s Vertigo, long considered to be one of the greatest films of all time, is the closest one of these films has come yet, but it, too, falls short.

Vertigo is the easy answer for most critics when asked to name Alfred Hitchcock’s best film (my money is on Rear Window or North by Northwest), and it was recently named the greatest film of all time in a Sight & Sound critic and director’s poll. When I first saw it as a kid, I thought it was an almost irredeemable bore, and now, a month shy of being 25, I still think that’s true. For the first hour and forty minutes. Then, the film’s major twist is revealed and Vertigo starts picking up momentum. And it closes out on one of the best final sequences of any film ever (the only ending that immediately springs to mind as being better is Cinema Paradiso). I just wish the first hour and forty minutes weren’t slower than Jordan Belfort on one too many Quaaludes.


John “Scottie” Ferguson (Mr. Hobbs Takes a Vacation‘s James Stewart) is a retired police detective who has developed a crippling case of acrophobia, the fear of heights, after he is indirectly responsible for the falling death of a fellow policeman. Scottie’s acrophobia has developed itself as a dizzying vertigo that appears any time he’s near heights. After Scottie’s retirement from the police force, he is asked by an old college friend, Gavin Elster (Tom Helmore), to shadow the friend’s wife, Madeleine (Kim Novak), because Gavin believes that Madeleine has been possessed by the spirit of a deceased Spanish countess. But the truth is far stranger as Scottie begins to fall in love with the woman he’s meant to follow.

I won’t ruin any more of the plot of Vertigo for those who have somehow managed to not see this film over the years. Not that Vertigo goes out of its way to hide the film’s most famous plot twist. Viewers know what’s really going on half an hour before Scottie finds out. But, the transformations, both real and imagined, that occur in the film’s closing acts make up for the turgid spell that comes before. And if you don’t know what’s really happening with Madeleine, Scottie, and a new friend Scottie makes later on, I don’t want to be the one to spoil it for you.


Vertigo is a Hitchcock film, and from beginning to end, it looks it which makes the film soporific first half a little easier to swallow. Hitchcock’s camera is light and fluid (much credit must be given to cinematographer, Robert Burks), and there are extended sections of the film with little to no dialogue where Hitchcock lets the story unfold through the sheer power of image. It’s fascinating and, for technically minded viewers, a treat to watch a film-maker who understood the value of composition better than any director since Sergei Eisenstein. But, somewhere along the lines, the pretty camera work grows stale, and you keep waiting for the story to finally kick in.

And therein lies Vertigo‘s most fatal sin. It’s opening stretch is vital to establishing the film’s powerful pay-off, but it all unfolds at such a languid pace. Scenes last too long. Hitchcock floods the scenes with so much compositional detail, and they certainly invite the viewer into Vertigo‘s world, but they are just bandages masking weak storytelling. Scottie is a flat character for 60% of the film, until he isn’t and that leads to the film’s astounding denouement. Unfortunately, Hitchcock doesn’t give the audience any glimpses of the darkness simmering beneath his surface beforehand.


But, when Jimmy Stewart is finally given real material to work with, he pulls one of cinema’s all time “against type” performances out of it. Dark, possessive, angry, paranoid. These aren’t adjectives we ever use to describe Stewart who is one of the definitive All-American movie stars. But Scottie takes a tumble down a well of pitch-black, misogynistic darkness, and Jimmie Stewart’s performance is rightfully one of the truly iconic performances in Hollywood’s history. Kim Novak is also marvelous as the mysterious Madeleine, and Madeleine is certainly one of Hitchcock’s greatest female creations.

I would talk about what makes the final sequence so brilliant (and so deliciously subversive of the feminine identity roles of Hollywood’s Golden Age as well as the traditional values of masculine heroes), but I don’t want to spoil what happens in the film’s closing moments. Had the first half of the film been half as good as it’s second half, this would clearly be one of the true greatest movies of all time. As it is, it finishes on a note of absolute perfection that few films have since touched, but it isn’t enough to excuse the film’s unfortunately dull start.

Final Score: B+


Well, once again, I found myself watching a “classic” comedy that I had never heard of from the 1950’s, that, much like Katherine Hepburn’s Summertime, turned out to actually be enjoyable and a pleasant surprise. The film, Teacher’s Pet, focuses on James Gannon (Clark Gable), the city editor for a major newspaper and his burgeoning relationship with a professor of journalism, Erica Stone (Doris Day). Gannon is rough old curmudgeon who thinks that skill as a journalist can only be gained through on the job experience and that it can’t be taught in a class room. When his boss forces him to attend one of Erica’s classes to give a lecture, he is smitten by her good looks and decides to pretend to be a student. The film is sort of an older precursor to hidden identity love stories like You’ve Got Mail and I mean that as a compliment. Rounding out the cast is Gig Young (yep that’s a boy’s name) as Professor Hugo Pine, a psychology professor and a man that Gannon believes is a romantic rival for Erica’s affection.

The story wasn’t that amazing, although the film itself could be absolutely hilarious at times thanks to the performance and deliver of the two male stars. Watching this film, I remembered exactly why it was that Clark Gable was the only thing I liked about Gone with the Wind. He plays the role of a charming rogue with such ease and skill that it’s very easy to understand why he was one of Hollywood’s earliest and longest running sex symbols. He plays Gannon like the definition of a man’s man, and he’s just a natural in the role. There were times in the film when his performance wasn’t that great, but when he was playing his niche as a sly and dashing rogue, he was great. Gig Young, however, as the psychology professor was a blast. His performance is probably the thing I’ll remember the most about the film when it’s forgettable plot fades away. Doris Day was good in her role as well, but having seen this film, I’m not sure I understand why she is as historically popular as she is.

This wasn’t a great movie, but I enjoyed watching it. Since the films that this blog will ultimately be composed of are award winners/nominees and/or movies I already saw and liked, that’s going to generally be a common occurrence, but as a cinephile, there are few pleasures greater than going into a film and not being sure whether this film isn’t going to just make you want to kill yourself cause the plot description sounded so boring and discovering something delightful instead.

Final Score: B-