Vertigo (Universal Legacy Series)

I love Vertigo, and there's no reason for me to go on about how great it is, as everyone else has taken care of it. I'm simply here to gripe that this dvd is not anamorphic which is a shame since it is for one of the most stunning looking films. If you have a standard television, it's a non-issue, but HDTV owners may want to steer clear. It's certainly a picky gripe, but as hdtv's grow more and more popular, i'm sure it is something that others will care about. Of course, most HDTv's can zoom and stretch the image so that it fills up the 16x9 frame (same ratio as the film), but it definitely doesn't have the clarity of an anamorphic transfer.

John Ferguson (James Stewart) is a retired cop; he's got a severe case of vertigo and remorse after his friend fell off a building to his death in an attempt to save John. Now, he mopes around the house all day with his admiring friend Midge (Barbara Bel Geddes) in tow, hoping he'll snap out of it. He gets his chance when he is approached by Gavin Elster (Tom Helmore), a man concerned about his wife. It seems Madeleine (Kim Novak) has been going into trances and wandering around town. Gavin wants John to follow her around to gauge the severity of the situation and to determine whether she should be institutionalized. John takes the job reluctantly, and begins to fall for Madeleine in the process. She seems to be channelling a doomed ancestor, and John's fondness for her makes him all the more adamant at finding the cause of the problem instead of sending her away. However, things are not as they seem.

This is an interesting role for Stewart, who normally plays a wholesome good ol' boy with a heart of gold. His character here is much more realistic, but since he is the eyes of the viewer, he is still likable. John is an imperfect character, so it is an interesting part to see him play. Stewart's blue eyes photograph really strangely so they create a haunting effect, the way blue eyes looked on the silent screen. Hitchcock most likely used this to his advantage to show the viewer that every character is suspect regardless of how pure they seem.

There are many twists in the plot, as is typical of Hitchcock. Not all of them are welcome twists. The subject begins with a psychological and paranormal context, but ends in realism. This descent from one extreme to the next is somewhat disappointing, but it is certainly an interesting ride.

Alfred Hitchcock made "Vertigo" at the height of his creative power. I first saw it in 1984, during its first release in almost twenty years, and viewed it over a hundred times since. In 1996, James Katz and Robert Harris painstakingly restored it, and although I have some issues with the restoration of the audio tracks (there are some sound cues missing, a couple obvious tape drop-outs from Herrmann's soundtrack), "Vertigo" would've disappeared without the TLC they put into saving it from total deterioration. It is this restoration that is on this DVD.
What really makes "Vertigo" stand out is its synthesis of both pure technique and pure emotion. This is a rare combination in any art form, as the technical is often equated with cold, objective detachment, and emotion is equated with sloppiness.

Hitchcock was probably more personally involved with the making of "Vertigo" than any other film, and it shows. Beginning with Madeleine Carroll, Hitch obsessively cast cool blondes as his heroines. Following Carroll were Joan Fontaine, Ingrid Bergman, Marlene Dietrich and Anne Baxter. But it was Grace Kelly whom Hitchcock felt most represented ideal woman. She starred in three of his movies ("Dial 'M' For Murder," "To Catch a Thief" and "Rear Window"). When she married Prince Rainier of Monaco, Hitchcock felt the loss deeply, and tried to recreate Grace in the form of other actresses. He attempted to groom Vera Miles to fill Grace Kelly's shoes (literally, Hitch was a foot fetishist you know), but Miles got pregnant as shooting got underway on "Vertigo". Hitch then brought in Kim Novak from Columbia studios, and found an actress with depth, beauty and empathy far beyond what Grace Kelly ever achieved. It is eerie, watching Jimmy Stewart re-create a love lost, realizing all the while that Hitchcock was attempting to recreate and monumentalize his own unrequited love for Grace Kelly. Strangely, Hitch's molding of Tippi Hedren into Grace's double during the filming of "Marnie" (1964) mirrors Stewart's obsessive attempt to bring Madeleine back from the dead.

The acting is stellar across the board: Jimmy Stewart's fear, depression and cold sweat come across as real, not as some "method" acting technique. You sense that he brought out a lot of his own hidden fears, desires and obsessions in fleshing out Scotty Ferguson. The supporting actors, Barbara Bel Geddes as Stewart's plain, practical girlfriend, Tom Helmore as the suave, manipulative Gavin Elster and Konstantin Shayne as Pop Liebl, the bookstore owner with a knack for oral history, are all perfectly cast.

But what makes "Vertigo" is more than just acting. To have realized this film, Hitchcock's crew was so in-sync with each another that "Vertigo" is experienced as the singular vision of one mind. Samuel Taylor's screenplay, which was worked out in writing sessions with Hitchcock, is intelligent, yet emotional, and the actors' lines resemble poetry more so than everyday conversation. Yet, the lines are delivered naturally.

Saul Bass' iconic whirling abstract titles open up the movie and set its tone. You realize that you are in for a movie unlike any other you've experienced.

Robert Burks was Hitchcock's cinematographer, and on no other film, was Hitchcock's visual sensibility so keenly felt. Burks was a DP at Warner's, and his impeccable craftsmanship can be seen in such non-Hitchcock movies as "The Fountainhead" (dir: King Vidor) and "The Spirit of St. Louis" (dir: Billy Wilder). But, it was his work with Hitchcock that his potential was most realized, and "Vertigo" has got to be the most beautifully filmed movie ever seen. The infinite perspectives, the jarring angles and the surreal lighting attest to Burks' visual genius. Working with editor George Tomassini, who cut this film really tight, and Technicolor advisor Richard Mueller, "Vertigo" shows what is possible in color moviemaking. The scene in which Kim Novak is dropping broken flower petals into San Francisco bay with the Golden Gate Bridge receding in the distance, silhouetted before a cerulean blue sky is reminiscent of a Vermeer painting, and just as skillfully executed. The interiors were designed by Henry Bumstead, and are expressions in simple elegance. Bumstead had to design the bell tower for the Mission scene, and its staircase is a visual expression of the vertigo that haunts Scottie.

Edith Head was Hitch's favorite costume designer, and Kim Novak's severe yet sensuous gray tailored suit is the most beautiful woman's costume I've ever seen in any movie. Much talk is made about how Head won the Oscar for "Sabrina" when Audrey Hepburn was really wearing a Givenchy gown, but Kim Novak's entrance in that gorgeous emerald evening gown always makes every head turn, and makes Hepburn look like a gawky teenager in a rented formal by comparison.

But it is Bernard Herrmann's beautifully Romantic and polytonal score that really completes Hitchcock's artistic vision: It is a haunting and obsessive score, and the ostinato of the swirling strings accentuates the vertiginous feelings Robert Burks' complex camerawork instills in the viewer. In the scene in which Scottie finally has recreated Judy in Madeleine's image, the kissing and caressing that is a prelude to their lovemaking is set to Herrmann's Wagnerian "Scene d'Amour," which runs over five minutes with only a few seconds of dialogue. However, Herrmann's scoring was so integral to the film that the scene never seems like a showcase for the music; instead, one can really understand how Hitchcock was a master of silent film, and how Herrmann composed music that was the perfect counterpart to the action onscreen.

It is really astounding when one considers how all these masterful artists' talents are so seamlessly woven together. "Vertigo" is truly larger-than-life and unrepeatable, despite its numerous imitations.

Alfred Hitchcock made "Vertigo" at the height of his creative power. I first saw it in 1984, during its first release in almost twenty years, and viewed it over a hundred times since. In 1996, James Katz and Robert Harris painstakingly restored it, and although I have some issues with the restoration of the audio tracks (there are some sound cues missing, a couple obvious tape drop-outs from Herrmann's soundtrack), "Vertigo" would've disappeared without the TLC they put into saving it from total deterioration. It is this restoration that is on this DVD.
What really makes "Vertigo" stand out is its synthesis of both pure technique and pure emotion. This is a rare combination in any art form, as the technical is often equated with cold, objective detachment, and emotion is equated with sloppiness.

Hitchcock was probably more personally involved with the making of "Vertigo" than any other film, and it shows. Beginning with Madeleine Carroll, Hitch obsessively cast cool blondes as his heroines. Following Carroll were Joan Fontaine, Ingrid Bergman, Marlene Dietrich and Anne Baxter. But it was Grace Kelly whom Hitchcock felt most represented ideal woman. She starred in three of his movies ("Dial 'M' For Murder," "To Catch a Thief" and "Rear Window"). When she married Prince Rainier of Monaco, Hitchcock felt the loss deeply, and tried to recreate Grace in the form of other actresses. He attempted to groom Vera Miles to fill Grace Kelly's shoes (literally, Hitch was a foot fetishist you know), but Miles got pregnant as shooting got underway on "Vertigo". Hitch then brought in Kim Novak from Columbia studios, and found an actress with depth, beauty and empathy far beyond what Grace Kelly ever achieved. It is eerie, watching Jimmy Stewart re-create a love lost, realizing all the while that Hitchcock was attempting to recreate and monumentalize his own unrequited love for Grace Kelly. Strangely, Hitch's molding of Tippi Hedren into Grace's double during the filming of "Marnie" (1964) mirrors Stewart's obsessive attempt to bring Madeleine back from the dead.

The acting is stellar across the board: Jimmy Stewart's fear, depression and cold sweat come across as real, not as some "method" acting technique. You sense that he brought out a lot of his own hidden fears, desires and obsessions in fleshing out Scotty Ferguson. The supporting actors, Barbara Bel Geddes as Stewart's plain, practical girlfriend, Tom Helmore as the suave, manipulative Gavin Elster and Konstantin Shayne as Pop Liebl, the bookstore owner with a knack for oral history, are all perfectly cast.

But what makes "Vertigo" is more than just acting. To have realized this film, Hitchcock's crew was so in-sync with each another that "Vertigo" is experienced as the singular vision of one mind. Samuel Taylor's screenplay, which was worked out in writing sessions with Hitchcock, is intelligent, yet emotional, and the actors' lines resemble poetry more so than everyday conversation. Yet, the lines are delivered naturally.

Saul Bass' iconic whirling abstract titles open up the movie and set its tone. You realize that you are in for a movie unlike any other you've experienced.

Robert Burks was Hitchcock's cinematographer, and on no other film, was Hitchcock's visual sensibility so keenly felt. Burks was a DP at Warner's, and his impeccable craftsmanship can be seen in such non-Hitchcock movies as "The Fountainhead" (dir: King Vidor) and "The Spirit of St. Louis" (dir: Billy Wilder). But, it was his work with Hitchcock that his potential was most realized, and "Vertigo" has got to be the most beautifully filmed movie ever seen. The infinite perspectives, the jarring angles and the surreal lighting attest to Burks' visual genius. Working with editor George Tomassini, who cut this film really tight, and Technicolor advisor Richard Mueller, "Vertigo" shows what is possible in color moviemaking. The scene in which Kim Novak is dropping broken flower petals into San Francisco bay with the Golden Gate Bridge receding in the distance, silhouetted before a cerulean blue sky is reminiscent of a Vermeer painting, and just as skillfully executed. The interiors were designed by Henry Bumstead, and are expressions in simple elegance. Bumstead had to design the bell tower for the Mission scene, and its staircase is a visual expression of the vertigo that haunts Scottie.

Edith Head was Hitch's favorite costume designer, and Kim Novak's severe yet sensuous gray tailored suit is the most beautiful woman's costume I've ever seen in any movie. Much talk is made about how Head won the Oscar for "Sabrina" when Audrey Hepburn was really wearing a Givenchy gown, but Kim Novak's entrance in that gorgeous emerald evening gown always makes every head turn, and makes Hepburn look like a gawky teenager in a rented formal by comparison.

But it is Bernard Herrmann's beautifully Romantic and polytonal score that really completes Hitchcock's artistic vision: It is a haunting and obsessive score, and the ostinato of the swirling strings accentuates the vertiginous feelings Robert Burks' complex camerawork instills in the viewer. In the scene in which Scottie finally has recreated Judy in Madeleine's image, the kissing and caressing that is a prelude to their lovemaking is set to Herrmann's Wagnerian "Scene d'Amour," which runs over five minutes with only a few seconds of dialogue. However, Herrmann's scoring was so integral to the film that the scene never seems like a showcase for the music; instead, one can really understand how Hitchcock was a master of silent film, and how Herrmann composed music that was the perfect counterpart to the action onscreen.

It is really astounding when one considers how all these masterful artists' talents are so seamlessly woven together. "Vertigo" is truly larger-than-life and unrepeatable, despite its numerous imitations.

"Vertigo" is, for me, hands down my favorite movie of all time. Either you "get it" or you don't. That remark is partially in response to a complaint here about the slow exposition with Scotty following Madelline ("ok, he's following her, we get it")--if you can't get into the rhythm and tone of the film and want everything to happen immediately then this movie isn't for you. Nor is it for anyone who needs a "rational" explanation for events, like how did Scotty get down from that drainpipe. I doubt he fell and only broke his back as someone suggested, and I don't know how he could have gotten down, and that's the point--he's figuratively dangling throughout the film. (But as to that last point if I was to speculate I'd say he continued to hang on for dear life until someone got to him, like via a fire truck ladder. But again that isn't important, and if you feel that's a flaw in the film then, sorry, you "don't get it".)

But enough of that. There are two reasons I'm posting here today. First, from the DVD specs listed here this appears to be the original 1998 restored rerelease, which I own (fortunately with the original poster artwork, as opposed to the "Hitchcock Collection" artwork that deprives the buyer from owning the original designs). If the specs are correct then as this version is not anamorphic then it won't fill the screen of an HD TV--it's inset with bars at the top, bottom, and sides (though one can zoom in, that's just a band-aid as the quality of the image is degraded). To understand what I mean I can point to the new rerelease of the Beatles' second film "Help!" which fills the screen in HD mode, even though it's not an HD release--I don't have to zoom in.

Second--and in direct relation to the above--is that 2008 is the 50th anniversary of "Vertigo". I haven't been able to dig up anything online so far, but one can only hope that Universal will plan a theatrical release accompanied by a new, updated DVD version of this classic film in both HD and non-HD, anamorphic formats (with new extras, of course).

This is a major opportunity for updating the release for modern television equipment with a big promotion. I'd be both surprised and dismayed if this opportunity was missed for a film that is still hailed in critics' polls and elsewhere as one of the greatest films ever made.