Vertigo
Hello, Hello (Hola)
Has there been a better film about obsession than Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo? If your answer to that question is “yes”, then please recommend a great film to me. If your answer is “no”, then you have answered my rhetorical question correctly. If you answered, “I haven’t seen it”, then please do so.
I watched it again this afternoon. It is a disturbing movie, not because it is gruesome like many modern thrillers, but because we see the exploitation of human weakness. Alfred Hitchcock took Jimmy Stewart, the iconic American every-man, and drove him crazy. One of the major themes is unrequited love. It’s painful to watch the characters obsess over the love that eludes them. It’s painful to think that they are victims of their own flaws, tricked by their own weaknesses, driven by their pain.
While Vertigo received mixed reviews upon its original release, and its box office performance was modest, it is an example of a work of art whose critical stock has improved over time. In fact, Vertigo was ranked as the number one mystery in AFI’s 10 Top 10 list. It technically sound, with a notable soundtrack and perfectly executed shot direction. In fact, the film pioneered the use of the dolly/zoom shot, which is frequently referred to on film sets as the “Vertigo Shot”. And that’s not even mentioning the fantastic performances of Jimmy Stewart and Kim Novak.
So, what do we do with a film like Vertigo?
Vertigo is a film that deals with the darkness of the human condition with very little redemption. The fact that Jimmy Stewart is able to overcome his vertigo and fear of heights at the film’s end feels hollow, considering the emotional depth to which he has fallen. Vertigo is not the only dark film in Hitchcock’s portfolio, but what makes this film especially haunting, besides its atmosphere, is its lack of justice. The main “bad guy” disappears 2/3 of the way through the film, before we realize he is a “bad guy”. The victims then descend into their obsessions, fueling each other into tragedy.
The reality of the film is that while life may not be full of elaborate ruses and mysteries fueled by wealthy industrialists, it is full of pain and unrequited love. The film makes us uncomfortable because given the opportunity, any of us could attempt to heal our wounds with our obsessions. People destroy each other every day in vain attempts to fill the holes in their lives.
That being said, for the Christian, a film like Vertigo is just as relevant as a film full of hope and redemption. Yes, movieguide.org might disagree with me. I don’t have a subscription, so I can’t say for sure. But seeing the depth humanity can fall when their frailty is preyed upon is relevant because it is true. There is nothing wrong with art that exposes depravity because humanity is capable of depravity.
Again I find myself thinking about positive, family-friendly Christian radio stations, and the safe, happy characters in modern, evangelical Christian media. You can’t make a film about depravity merely to expose depravity. Weaknesses are glossed over. Conflicts are black and white and easily resolved. The Christian entertainment industry doesn’t know how to deal with depravity in art, even though the gospel is a story of how God has dealt with our depravity for His glory.
I believe that our fear to deal with depravity in art reflects our fear of dealing with the roots of our depravity. Evil preys upon our fears and weaknesses. Our idiosynchrosies often drive us to make decisions with difficult consequences. If left unchecked, they can drive us to disaster. And it is our frailty — our greatest weaknesses — that present us with our toughest challenges. It is in our toughest challenges that God does His greatest work. Because we lack faith, we often choose to hide our frailty. We protect ourselves with words like “positive” and “family-friendly”.
We could learn a lot from a film like Vertigo, and I hope that a day comes when art such as this can be embraced by Christians interested in dealing with their humanity.
