Classic American films: why Hitchcock’s Vertigo ranks as one of the greatest films ever made

In this regular feature series on some of the most talked-about films, we examine the legacy of classics, re-evaluate modern blockbusters, and revisit some of the most memorable lines in film. We continue this week with the 1958 film Vertigo .

In 2012, 54 years after its release, Vertigo topped a critics’ poll of the greatest films ever made, which had been held every ten years by the United Kingdom’s Sight & Sound magazine. What’s odd is not that Alfred Hitchcock’s 46th film should have taken the top spot from Citizen Kane, but that it only charted in 1982, whereas Citizen Kane had held the top spot for 50 years.

Based on a book by Boileau-Narcejac (authors of Les Diaboliques), and adapted by Alec Coppel and Samuel A. Taylor, Vertigo is a strange, strange prospect. It’s a curdled romance of doppelgängers and ghosts; a dreamy, daylit noir of swollen colours and sinister desires; a mystery that constantly reveals its own secrets.

It may be a “Hitchcock” film, but it quickly goes against the theory that the director is the sole author of their work. Edith Head’s magnificent costumes, Bernard Herrmann’s lush score and Saul Bass’s striking titles are just three of the elements that combine to make Vertigo so alluring.

The opening credits contain a statement of intent, with spirals superimposed over a woman’s face. In fact, the spiral is a neat visual summary of what we are about to see. It’s there in the plot, a detective story that keeps turning in on itself. It’s there in the distinctive hair curl worn by Madeleine (Kim Novak), our tragic heroine. It’s there in the staircase that Scottie (James Stewart) fails to climb to save her.

In a celebrated shot, the stairs are shown seeming to move towards us, with the camera simultaneously zooming out and tracking in to mimic the effect of Scottie’s acrophobia.