The classic problem in discussing Vertigo is not giving away the Almighty Plot. We must shroud the famous twist so that first-time viewers won't be robbed of their gasp of recognition. Of course, the meaning of the movie depends on the plotline very little. The picture actually revolves around - at one famous point literally revolves around - smaller things like fear, death and sexual obsession to the point of insanity. Your friendly web-site author once thought that sexual obsession was what made life worth living, but Hitchcock's masterpiece and painful experience have made me think twice.
So there will be no spoilsport disclosures here. All I will say is that the movie must be seen in its Harris-Katz restoration to appreciate the vibrancy of Hitchcock's (now fortunately) enduring images. My wife, a brunette who never wears gray suits, bought me a copy of the restoration for my birthday, and the movie has drawn me into the whirlpool of obsession that engulfs its lead characters and so many of its critics.
The Web abounds in fan sites on Vertigo. On the hobbies page at the bottom of this Web heap, I give a link to the MacGuffin, which remains the best single Hitchcock site on the Net. You can venture from this excellent starting point into further Web explorations of the Master's legacy.
Only a couple years separate Psycho from Vertigo, but the psychic (sorry) distance seems almost immeasurable. The surface contrast of grainy black-and-white vs. gorgeous VistaVision color reflects the later movie's concern with cramped, almost claustrophobic lives. Not to mention that Psycho cost two-thirds less to make than Vertigo and grossed obscenely larger receipts - though Vertigo was not a box-office disaster, as later legend asserted. The alert viewer will note that I've intentionally made the Psycho stills smaller than those from Vertigo. Life takes strange shapes when it's squeezed as tightly as at the Bates Motel.
Remade, imitated, sequeled, dissected (again, sorry)...Hitchcock's blackest comedy retains its power to fascinate with the threat of violence more than its literal presentation. The body count hardly mounts at all, and in fact numbers one less than Vertigo's. But the shrieking violins announce that all hell HAS broken loose.
Norman is thinking hard about which page to visit next. So many choices, so little time. My advice is to take a peek through that cybernetic hole in the wall at whatever looks most inviting.
