It's a testament to Sorkin's screenwriting prowess that this never much loses one's attention despite a runtime well over two hours long and despite about a half-dozen generic flip flops. Chastain, as always, is aces.
Hitchcock’s masterwork, better than any other, reminds us of two truisms of cinema: to look is to remember and to remember is to impose. The hypnotic spirals that haunt every facet of the visual design and even the trademark dolly zoom effect take us deeper into the image, to the point that it threatens to swallow us, much as the past threatens to engulf Scottie. Of course these geometrical chasms are metaphorically vaginal, making Vertigo the great masterpiece about sexual…