Overrated

Rating: 6/10 (23 September 2008)

Watching the films of Alfred Hitchcock reminds one of the fairy tale of Goldilocks And The Three Bears. Not so much in the actual filmic nature of the art, but in the critical reception accorded the films. As example, some of the films that are labeled masterpieces, like Psycho or The Birds, are just right in their assessment. Other films that are critically neglected are, in fact, among Hitchcock's better films, such as Rope and Frenzy. Then there are the films that are hailed as masterpieces, but which are profound disappointments. If they are not outright bad films, they certainly are only marginally solid films, and achieve their solidity mainly through technical accomplishments. In this category I would place Rear Window and Vertigo.
It's not that Vertigo is an awful film, for technically it's very well made- especially considering that era, but the flaccid and absurd screenplay simply does not hold up a half century on. Add to that the fact that the film is glacially paced, and you have a fairly boring film; one that even Jimmy Stewart's crotchety presence can barely enliven. However, I have long lauded films that do not place plot ahead of character development, so one might ask why am I asking for a better plot and more briskly paced film? Well, simply put, all of the characters are cardboard cutouts, and plot details are easier to resolve than character depth. If one is going to give mere archetypes (and that's being generous, the characters are really more stereotypes than archetypes) then the plot better zing and have a good payoff. This one does not. Part of the problem with the screenplay is the utter dependence for the propulsion of the plot upon the Neolithic psychiatric pseudoscience of the era, which too many of Hitchcock's films are dependent upon, and which leave most of his films in very shallow waters intellectually. This lack of intellectual and emotional depth is part of the reason he is rightly looked down upon when compared to greater masters of film, such as Stanley Kubrick, Orson Welles, Federico Fellini, Werner Herzog, Ingmar Bergman, or Martin Scorsese.
A film like this points out the fact that Hitchcock not only was not a 'deep' director, but could not have been, for by sacrificing what he did best- manipulation, suspense, and twists of plot, all he did was sacrifice what he did best. He had no Bergmanian depths to plumb. Is it really believable that Scotty would become a deaf-mute for a year over his supposed guilt in 'Madeline's' suicide? Stewart projects far too much sanity in this role, and as a filmic persona. When Midge is fussing over him he does not look remotely catatonic, merely sleepy. There were plenty of other downright bad moments in the film, of course, such as where Scottie is standing on a chair, looks out Midge's window, and faints gently into her arms. Now, he dwarfs her in size, and falling from several feet, he would not waft into her arms, but thud, and probably hurt both of them. This scene is set up only to show that Midge will always be there for Scottie, despite whatever convolutions their relationship has had. But, we get this from every moment they are together. There are many, many other screenplay moments that fail, and this surprises, for the co-screenwriters, Samuel Taylor and Alec Coppel, based the film upon the novel D'Entre Les Morts, by Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac, who also wrote the story for Henri-Georges Clouzot's great thriller Diabolique, a tale that Hitchcock tried to get the rights to, but failed. Given Diabolique's greatness one can only assume that the screnwriters, in concert with Hitchcock, ruined what was probably a great story.
If the script and direction is weak, however, the best parts of the film are the score, provided by Bernard Herrmann, and the camera work. The music directs the viewer, but does not lead nor overwhelm, save for the trite and sappy love scenes, which are bad all around. Even better than the film's soundtrack is the cinematography by Hitchcock's long time cinematographer Robert Burks. The palette is lush with reds, greens, and browns, as the shots of the sequoias, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the art museum are gorgeous, making the most of the now outdated Technicolor technology. There is also a brief scene which features Ellen Corby, who would later go on to fame as the crotchety grandmother in the television series The Waltons, that is humorous. For those interested in Hitchcock's cameo, it comes about eleven minutes into the film, in a throwaway shot designed only for the cameo, where we see him crossing a street before we get to the interior of Gavin Elster's office.
Yet, even more so than the implausibilities, bad screenplay, and sexism, that damn the film is the fact that Vertigo is simply dull. Add that to a lead character who is a creep with problems, its love story pathetic, and its 'mystery' being rather pallid and given away too soon, and the claim that Vertigo is one of Hitchcock's most overrated films is a good one. At best, it is merely a mediocre film. And, as Goldilocks might claim, that sort of assessment is 'just right.'