Trite, paper-thin and unconvincing. Despite the adolescent misanthropy, the misogyny, and the nearly unmitigated contempt it shows for its lead characters, it's too insubstantial even to be hateful. The filmmaker is either too lazy or too impatient to build character, theme or drama with any subtlety; the exaggeratedly caustic dialogue is just a cheap shortcut to the desired result. It's rare to see an art film that gives the viewer so little freedom.
"Judy, it can't matter to you."
For someone like myself, who values visual form and style as much as narrative, writing about this movie presents a real challenge. The story and plotting of Vertigo are perhaps the finest in all of movies: there's the slam-bang intro; the languorous first movement, with the development of mystery and the growing romance joined as one; the violent rupture; and then a new love, a new mystery, with us one crucial step ahead of…
Here's a film that, for me, is as fun to talk around as it is to talk about. While watching, and enjoying, it I kept thinking about how so much value in cinephilic discourse is placed on the foregrounding of artifice. Classical Hollywood is loved for its lack of realism, and for the way standardized production served to throw personal style into relief; and with nearly every major auteur besides, what's admired is heavy formal intervention. What we cinephiles seem…
I first saw this during its theatrical run--on my birthday, if I remember right--and today I feel the same way about it as I did then, a lifetime ago. That's rare for me: I've been through so many phases as a cinephile, each one involving much rethinking and visceral rewiring, that very few movies carry the feel of my first viewing of them.
I imagine that every serious, active, critical movie lover has films that they cherish without ignoring their…