What's The Matter With Vertigo? --- Part Two

I am at verge of calling Vertigo the definitive "guy" flick, providing said guy is of intensely romantic bent and subject to obsessions not unlike ones Scotty experienced. Do women dig Vertigo? Not ones I've spoken with --- Ann barely recalls our watching beyond dismissal of it as lesser Hitchcock (Rear Window's her idea of great, a sentiment shared by '58 exhibs). Does Stewart/Scotty creep out distaff viewers? It might me were I female. Lest we forget, "apt pupil" Judy falls only after Scotty drags her up the bell tower stairs. Now, there are certain men, lots I suspect, who see themselves in Scotty. I heard from a few by e-mail since last week's Part One. What they shared was too personal to include among comments, but rest assured, their identification with "Old Available Ferguson" was intense. One calls Vertigo simply the finest motion picture ever made. Obviously Hitchcock glimpsed Scotty in mirrors more than once. Did he sense as much in all us males watching?

There's an extra on Universal's DVD that could change, if not wreck, our perception of Vertigo were it appended to circulating prints. Hitchcock was Code obliged to film a tag-on indicating dragnets, in Europe no less, about to close in on Gavin Elster. The news is broadcast via Midge's apartment radio, she and Scotty splitting a bottle post-Judy plunge. It's a near nothing of less than two minutes, but plugged-into Vertigo, then or since, would lay waste to much of the film's impact and legacy. The fade as it stands leaves Scotty atop the bell tower, our impression being he'll not recover from this trauma. But the coda (did Hitchcock even direct it?) suggests Scotty will bounce back. There's even a comic tag to the newscaster's report. Fortunately, the scene was never inserted to release prints. I'm guessing Paramount and Hitchcock used what muscle they had (considerable) to keep it out, for which we can give thanks, even if it means Gavin Elster may still be living it up somewhere on the French Riviera (in John Robie's former villa, perhaps?).

The ideal of romance, be it man or woman's, doomed or otherwise, is best exemplified by Bernard Herrmann's extraordinary music. We may argue Vertigo's merits till cattle come home, but votes are unanimous to place his among all-time greatest scores. I'm listening now, in fact. A big reason lots (inc. me) repeat view Vertigo is Herrmann. Had Hitchcock forecast same, he might have fired the man a lot sooner than Torn Curtain. The director didn't like any collaborator becoming indispensable. Writer John Michael Hayes found out (via pink slip) shortly prior to Vertigo. Frank Capra's One-Man, One-Film mantra was one AH applied like a club, this an aspect of the Master's ego that would cost him dearly. To take Herrmann away from Vertigo is to lose half (at least) of the pic's value. His score is that crucial, and Hitchcock of all participating had to know it.

The costing dearly part would come with Torn Curtain in 1966. The story of Herrmann being dismissed and his score thrown out is a long one and needs not recounting here (better told elsewhere). I'll digress by mentioning that sequences from TC were rescored with Herrmann's music for a DVD extra. For those fourteen or so minutes, Torn Curtain suddenly (and finally) became a good movie for me. I ask some of you filmmusic experts out there --- might Torn Curtain be fixed with a complete overlay of Herrmann substituting the John Addison music used for release prints (and subsequent videos)? I read BH's music extended to the bus sequence, which is most of the way in. Could themes from his score be reprised to fill in the rest? Surely a Herrmann-devoted arranger/conductor could step up and, at long last, repair Hitchcock and Universal's misstep of 1966. If an Orson Welles memo could revitalize Touch Of Evil after so many years and be warmly received for the effort, why not restoration of Bernard Herrmann's score (a great one, and largely unheard beyond a few soundtrack CD's) do as much to rehabilitate Torn Curtain's standing among Hitchcock's late-career output?

But back to Vertigo and Hitchcock's not-always infallible judgment. He was bullish from the start on a one-word title after fashion of prior Notorious, Spellbound, etc. Vertigo's shooting moniker, From Among The Dead, wouldn't do because, said Variety, (Paramount's) sales department isn't keen on the word "dead." One word is easier to remember, added Hitchcock, and it's easier for the marquee. As to fitness of Vertigo besides, it really doesn't make too much difference whether the title has anything to do with the story (Hitch evoked all-time hit, The Four Horsemen Of The Apocalypse, reminding trades that people still don't know what that means). Influenced by recent success of theme song placement, the director pursued "a big piece of good will" by way of a title tune for Vertigo. Did Bernard Herrmann ultimately talk him out of what (we now know) would have been a serious bungle?

Billy Eckstine Makin' With That Mellow Vertigo Sound

There would be a Vertigo vocal, thankfully not heard over finished credits, Billy Eckstine the warbler selected (it's on a few CD's). A soundtrack LP was issued, plus another single, featuring Herrmann's music --- Love Music From Vertigo (gets best results from late-hour deejay programmers, said Variety's "Jocks, Jukes, and Disks" columnist) and on the flip side, Vertigo Prelude, which the reviewer called not as effective. Still, I'd have welcomed drifting off with either to AM slumber back in 1958. There are collectors still who prize these undoubtedly rare discs. I recall the original Vertigo album being quite sought-after during years before re-recordings of the score became available. Does Vertigo's vintage vinyl still command premium dollars?

One thing Hitchcock insisted on was Saul Bass-designed poster art to promote Vertigo. Swirling enigmas these were, minus art of stars Paramount paid hefty for, so what folly was this anti-merchandising? Para had lately moved its sales division to the west coast and that much closer to Hitchcock's hands-on supervision. Wariness over ads too arty, plus drab in the bargain, pitted sale reps against AH well before Vertigo's May 1958 opening (not a few considered the film "somewhat handicapped" by the title Hitchcock had selected). But what if the director was right for following unconventional example of recent hit The Man With The Golden Arm, its poster also designed by Saul Bass and very similar to one-sheets forthcoming for Vertigo? Time, and reaction at turnstiles, would soon answer that riddle.

Part Three and Conclusion to Vertigo Coming Next Week.