Illogical, but complete in a strange fulfilling way

Rating: 10/10 (25 May 2013)

I find it hard to describe what truly makes Vertigo a great movie. In ways, it could even be said that the plot is inconsequential and seems to have a number of plot-holes. But this is Hitchcock, who not always explains everything through narrative, sometimes opting for subtle movements, even moods or colours to connect parts of stories. And in a strange fulfilling way, Vertigo seems complete because of this.
Right from the bat Vertigo feels different to what has come before in Hitchcock's oeuvre. The opening titles, Herrmann's music (one of the best scores ever committed to tape), the colours form a hypnotic opening. The movie includes all of Hitchcock trademarks (mystery, twists, suspense, an eye for visual shots, great use of music and technique) but on the whole it feels different. It plays on the mind. The themes of the movie seem to have found their way into the directional style as well: it feels despaired, obsessed, restless. There is an incredibly high number of exquisite locations used here, but this is not just scenery candy. Just like the characters, the movie never seems to settle in one place, always on the move from one place to another ("wandering around" as two of the main characters say). It is Hitchcock's way of saying that their characters have not found what they are looking for yet. The scenes use colour not as mere wallpaper, but as feeling, mood. The neon colours used in the second part of the movie not only are stunning to look at, but seem to tell the viewer of instability, falseness. Hitchcock and Robert Burks outdid their selves here, upping colour to the extreme.
Vertigo is not a logical movie in the sense of straight-forwardness. But it hypnotises and then somehow seems appropriately fitting. On a subconscious level it all clicks. I find myself drawn back to it every once in a few years, still lingering somewhere deep down there in my subconscious.