Hitchcock Biographer Patrick McGilligan Discusses VERTIGO with John Greco

<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>by guest contributor John Greco</i></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF7MW8mtlG8AEiw16ZotH9r_0G4bm9HE1BQkgCmR8zdL9_5NORnvdoR79J1uUPG6oHiEiAQ1NmH-WKPb8cfLTJihUTkeyL480Z31rhGsXvqauBOOmsznpqI1FoSONrwYoheo3jXFF3w9yH/s1600/novak+and+hitchcock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF7MW8mtlG8AEiw16ZotH9r_0G4bm9HE1BQkgCmR8zdL9_5NORnvdoR79J1uUPG6oHiEiAQ1NmH-WKPb8cfLTJihUTkeyL480Z31rhGsXvqauBOOmsznpqI1FoSONrwYoheo3jXFF3w9yH/s400/novak+and+hitchcock.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><span style="font-size: small;">J<i>ohn Greco of <a href="http://twentyfourframes.wordpress.com/" style="color: #990000;">Twenty Four Frames</a> recently interviewed award-winning biographer Patrick McGilligan, author of <u>Alfred Hitchcock: A Life in Darkness and Light</u> (Harper Collins, 2004). The focus of their dialogue was the director's mysterious and magnificent</i><i> </i>Vertigo<i>.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /><a name='more'></a><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>John Greco</b> (<b>JG</b>): Where does <i>Vertigo</i> fall within your pantheon of Hitchcock films and films in general?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Patrick McGilligan</b> (<b>PM</b>): Honestly, I admire <i>Vertigo</i> more than I adore it but perhaps the reason for that is I am more inclined towards Hitchcock’s dark comedies with their playful humor -with major exceptions, I should say. Also, I have had the unfortunate experience, in recent years, of showing this film to undergraduates while teaching university film courses and have heard audible snickering in the audience during certain scenes, which isn’t true when you screen most of Hitchcock’s other accepted masterpieces. I think that is because there are some things about the film that can only be accepted by auteurists (the fact, for example, that it takes Scottie so long to recognize that Judy is/was Madeleine); you could say the same thing about the special effects for <i>The Birds</i> – brilliant then, somewhat dated now. And yet we fear the remake!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>JG</b>: How important was shooting the film in San Francisco to the film and Hitchcock?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk7Kf6ZfGxC8fcc7W7Ha7OHQU8OeVz_hmMDnoz5QgU-NlKkq2N2pTrB4oRML7fd1ceLlsO5LTh91nQXjozogoRVhiGFDiPA8HSYxI1R3kqjav3tnUiu40zVkeM5XuZEtMwNRNMwijQ4gJR/s1600/Palace+of+Fine+Arts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk7Kf6ZfGxC8fcc7W7Ha7OHQU8OeVz_hmMDnoz5QgU-NlKkq2N2pTrB4oRML7fd1ceLlsO5LTh91nQXjozogoRVhiGFDiPA8HSYxI1R3kqjav3tnUiu40zVkeM5XuZEtMwNRNMwijQ4gJR/s400/Palace+of+Fine+Arts.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Judy and Scottie and San Francisco's Palace of Fine Arts</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"><b>PM</b>: San Francisco and the Bay area became increasingly important to Hitchcock after he bought a house up there during World War II and began commuting up on many weekends. It was part of his “Americanization,” though obviously, considering his accent and usual costume, never a completed process. The romance with the Bay Area really began with <i>Shadow of a Doubt</i>, which was a Hitchcock original tailored for that area, and it was a great pleasure for the director to imagine or (in the cases of <i>Vertigo</i> and <i>The Birds</i>) re-imagine European stories in his veritable backyard. Filming in the Bay Area, or even living there on weekends, was radically independent for Hollywood in the 1940s. Incidentally, I think this penchant is one of the things that makes Hitchcock a very intimate, personal director as well as a universal one. They now give <i>Vertigo</i> tours of San Francisco, I’m sure you know. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>JG</b>: <i> Vertigo</i> seems to have been a very personal film for Hitchcock. Scottie's obsession with the makeover of Judy into Madeline mirrors to an extent Hitchcock's own obsession with the making over of some of his leading ladies into his own vision of the icy blonde Hitchcockian ideal. Tippi Hedren, for example - true?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmCWElv1VUS_0-lTuwjbjfOsV6l5AQBGGOsVpeDaC9OzkpYNepi6sy0cxflN879rO4n9A9Pzdp7wIvwFT16PwM-yEFNYFVQ8jywMeODuFqhbMz0DjQTRxgtX3WEGepB1RFv9wMTvd3GJVc/s1600/kim_novak_spiral-french_twist_vertigo_1958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmCWElv1VUS_0-lTuwjbjfOsV6l5AQBGGOsVpeDaC9OzkpYNepi6sy0cxflN879rO4n9A9Pzdp7wIvwFT16PwM-yEFNYFVQ8jywMeODuFqhbMz0DjQTRxgtX3WEGepB1RFv9wMTvd3GJVc/s200/kim_novak_spiral-french_twist_vertigo_1958.jpg" width="146" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An iconic twist</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"><b>PM</b>: I don’t really buy this notion except very generally. Hitchcock’s career is full of different types of women, and not all the blondes are icy – Grace Kelly really isn’t, either in <i>Rear Window</i> or <i>To Catch a Thief</i>. I think it is a cliché about Hitchcock that is sometimes true and that he helped to promulgate as part of his self-publicity. At the same time, it is also true that, especially in the early days of the silent cinema, particularly in America, the blonde heroine was a fixture – the Mary Pickford type, whose looks photographed dramatically in black and white. Hitchcock was very aware of that tradition. Yet it is also true that Hitchcock liked to make over his leading ladies, picking out their costumes, consulting on their hair-dos, offering behavioral tips for scenes. So, I guess it is fair to say that Scottie’s make-over of Judy in <i>Vertigo</i> echoes (or prefigures) Hitchcock’s make- over of Tippi Hedren for <i>The Birds</i>, as long as it is understood that sometimes the make-overs had little to do with the icy blonde cliché, or that he did the same thing more subtly, often, with the male characters and actors.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>JG</b><i>: </i>Vera Miles was originally set to play Madeleine/Judy but due to delays in pre-production and her eventual pregnancy she was replaced by Kim Novak. Any thoughts of how Ms. Miles would have been in the dual role?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>PM</b>: Originally I think the part was tailored for Miles. Hitchcock had a yen for Miles and really tried to elevate her to a ‘name’ stardom. But Miles couldn’t play the part because of her pregnancy, and gradually the role was reworked, the script rewritten, for another type of actress, Kim Novak. James Stewart was really in favor of Novak, importantly, and so was Lew Wasserman. She really gives a stellar performance, although you almost can sense her squirming under Hitchcock’s not entirely satisfied direction. I think that gives the film a piquancy that wouldn’t have been there with Vera Miles, but it’s almost not fair to speculate. Ultimately Vera Miles would have played it differently, Hitchcock would have directed her differently, and the script would have been written differently.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>JG</b>: Kim Novak has been criticized over the years as being too lightweight an actress for the role. I, for one, think her lack of depth, her innocence, if you will, added a dimension that would have been missing with a more seriously trained actress. Does she hurt the film as some have said?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxqGpYf_lJ1btDJnjVPW9GMgIOGki6mlZohBNnwhNOnzUl3OCmj-HhWJoALhSNbT5ybGN56109qjMbt9tqhpvfe5Niu4haXXG_Qpmm3-7UhXXQs7p8dLf1EFl_VoMPZoehLii3HMXX1aqW/s1600/novak+vertigo+lombard+street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxqGpYf_lJ1btDJnjVPW9GMgIOGki6mlZohBNnwhNOnzUl3OCmj-HhWJoALhSNbT5ybGN56109qjMbt9tqhpvfe5Niu4haXXG_Qpmm3-7UhXXQs7p8dLf1EFl_VoMPZoehLii3HMXX1aqW/s320/novak+vertigo+lombard+street.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mysterious 'Madeleine Elster'</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"><b>PM</b>: I agree with you that Kim Novak adds rather than subtracts to the film. I’d say the first requisite for the character she plays is ‘mysteriousness.’ Neither Judy nor Madeleine is intended to have any depth, per se. For the ordinary moviegoer Novak is convincing and beguiling. For the serious moviegoer she is more: she overcomes all prejudices against her limitations while adding to the ‘subtext’ of the film. Hitchcock’s ability to mold the actress, to cast a spell over her, is part of the grand achievement of the film.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>JG</b>: Hitchcock's films were always filled with eroticism<i>. The 39 Steps </i>with the implications of the two handcuffed together, the kissing scene in <i>Notorious,</i> the afternoon tryst in <i>Psycho,</i> to name a few. In <i>Vertigo</i> it is implied, after Scottie saved Madeleine from drowning and took her back to his apartment, that she is naked (under the sheets), suggesting he most likely undressed her. Was Hitchcock playing out personal fantasies or fulfilling a need missing in his life?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhat5q0TJXrISIbZqbEEzGPhVMAAofGx0I6jUGTH4wNHlnDDdxTKpsFw013MG5tCvhTzk4XD_1ZqV3Ty3XtU-qwhtcWzZZQ-2n7zB1eCHl7hrBorwk_BY_RH2t-zNdo32mErbpKFkCNAvQt/s1600/Ernies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhat5q0TJXrISIbZqbEEzGPhVMAAofGx0I6jUGTH4wNHlnDDdxTKpsFw013MG5tCvhTzk4XD_1ZqV3Ty3XtU-qwhtcWzZZQ-2n7zB1eCHl7hrBorwk_BY_RH2t-zNdo32mErbpKFkCNAvQt/s320/Ernies.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gavin Elster and 'Madeleine' at Ernies</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"><b>PM</b>: I certainly think that all the great directors play out their personal fantasies as well as fulfill needs missing in their personal lives. That is true of Hitchcock’s preoccupation with erotic symbolism, sexy actresses undressing before the camera, double entendre dialogue, and so on. At the same time it was part of his sophistication as well as his identification with his audience, that Hitchcock understood the ramifications of scenes that sometimes slipped by the censors, and that this quality in his films was enormously appealing and subversive to critics as well as ordinary moviegoers. One of the reasons the Hitchcockian sensibility can’t really be replicated by other filmmakers (despite many valiant efforts) is that it has so many components that are organic with him – his personality, his character, his life story - and yet work as part of his entertainment formula. The eroticization of scenes belongs to Hitchcock as much as the Macguffin or “the wrong man.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>JG</b>: Scottie is fanatical in transforming Judy into the image of the dead Madeleine, he is a man possessed. I found this to be one of James Stewart's most intense acting performances, maybe with the exception of some of his roles in Anthony Mann's westerns, his most extreme. He actually becomes less likeable as the film progresses.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div style="text-align: right;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjewP8nQhfb0OveVRKyJzHrqKXi80sWVzcFpbNPL68C_Wb-pzU3SbGuVz0cW7OXWr4x-GiQahlhq7a-2E0sZ2gYQMKLkenanMPHi_DTXr0a2JRTtuLgbBVOIqHkiv5aE0KIemy83ra8yA/s1600/vertigo+in+vertigo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjewP8nQhfb0OveVRKyJzHrqKXi80sWVzcFpbNPL68C_Wb-pzU3SbGuVz0cW7OXWr4x-GiQahlhq7a-2E0sZ2gYQMKLkenanMPHi_DTXr0a2JRTtuLgbBVOIqHkiv5aE0KIemy83ra8yA/s400/vertigo+in+vertigo.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"...a resurrection parable."</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"><b>PM</b>: I think Scottie becomes pitiful as well as pitiable, which may be traced to Hitchcock’s Catholicism. (The whole story is a resurrection parable.) Stewart was a brave actor, willing to try anything and risk falling flat, and he had remarkable close collaborations with several of Hollywood’s top directors – Capra, Ford, Mann, besides Hitchcock. But he and Hitchcock had more of a true friendship and partnership; they were actual business partners on the four films they made together. When an actor lets himself go emotionally like Stewart does in <i>Vertigo</i>, or in the Anthony Mann films you mention – <i>even It’s a Wonderful Life</i> – apart from his considerable talent it shows his trust in the director.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>JG</b>: <i>Vertigo</i> was a critical and commercial failure at the time of its original release. Was the film too complex for audiences of the day to appreciate or was there another reason? It certainly has gained in stature in later years.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>PM</b>: Who knows? It could have been doomed by the advertising or release pattern. It may have done well overseas. It was certainly embraced by the French. It might be too strong to call it a failure – maybe a disappointment. I know that Hitchcock found fault with the film, even with James Stewart, not his performance, but with hindsight the director thought Stewart might not have had the necessary romantic appeal. But it’s a curious love story after all, and not the usual mystery or suspense, so American audiences in the 1950s may have been left scratching their heads. And much of what Hitchcock critics and scholars treasure about it – all the embedded auteurism – wouldn’t have been obvious to those moviegoers. I’m not sure it is obvious to audiences today. After all, while <i>Vertigo</i> wins over the critics and scholars, other Hitchcock films like <i>Rear Window</i>, <i>North by Northwest</i> or <i>Psycho</i> are more reliable as crowd pleasers.</span><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheFIt01WO-tLLn2zD6ZAtveriUq5xtVHglepLorBSDgu-XgHNVxvoA6U3AJMWatzQqraDmeBRQkaDspJwOK-pkappqFxQLCGTwyj5ac_KT6XPf0QE0bdW6wSnVb8ql3rSamr7-qURyze3b/s1600/Patrick_McGilligan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheFIt01WO-tLLn2zD6ZAtveriUq5xtVHglepLorBSDgu-XgHNVxvoA6U3AJMWatzQqraDmeBRQkaDspJwOK-pkappqFxQLCGTwyj5ac_KT6XPf0QE0bdW6wSnVb8ql3rSamr7-qURyze3b/s400/Patrick_McGilligan.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biographer Patrick McGilligan</td></tr></tbody></table></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> ~</div><br /><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>Guest author <b>John Greco</b> has entertained a lifelong fascination with cinema and photography and has been blogging on classic film for about 3½ years at </i>Twenty Four Frames<i>. He recently launched another blog featuring his own photography (<a href="http://johngrecophotograpy.com/" style="color: #990000;">johngrecophotograpy.com</a>). Pat McGilligan’s <u>Nicholas Ray: The Glorious Failure of an American Director</u>, was published in July. <a href="http://twentyfourframes.wordpress.com/2011/08/05/interview-with-author-patrick-mcgilligan/" style="color: #990000;">Click here</a> for John’s interview with the author regarding this most recent biography.</i><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT53j16b-pwmkt7HV-Uysf8aZUAY8xU1SPdsjBI3cPuS542tIu9O6MrHWgMAPoBlg0yNT0LaRmZplM9QIS_UFPjkfCIpcTuz1CAtxN94TZ4He4PRm_s6cRAoCE1WK4bUDqHrER_YpycL8/s1600/Twenty+Four+Frames+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="86" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT53j16b-pwmkt7HV-Uysf8aZUAY8xU1SPdsjBI3cPuS542tIu9O6MrHWgMAPoBlg0yNT0LaRmZplM9QIS_UFPjkfCIpcTuz1CAtxN94TZ4He4PRm_s6cRAoCE1WK4bUDqHrER_YpycL8/s400/Twenty+Four+Frames+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div>

A Month of Vertigo Alfred Hitchcock James Stewart John Greco Kim Novak Patrick McGilligan San Francisco Vertigo Hitchcock Biographer Patrick McGilligan Discusses VERTIGO with John Greco

by guest contributor John GrecoJohn Greco of Twenty Four Frames recently interviewed award-winning biographer Patrick McGilligan, author of Alfred Hitchcock: A Life in Darkness and Light (Harper Collins, 2004). The focus of their dialogue was the dir…

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VERTIGO: More than just the streets of San Francisco...

<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>By guest contributor Michael Nazarewycz </i></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS4fLHjEo3dXvCUAPDz4hBdJHw1O5Dt6BF8M-Y_iRiCpCNnoRJuWLBRfKloMRurmuY4J5lq9gwedZdeSb7aPRrFFttZJbJk6yYMDjs3g8JAI0RSMUPefxMSFNjzJ1qbwknhbnKS4YrKnM-/s1600/SF+1+b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS4fLHjEo3dXvCUAPDz4hBdJHw1O5Dt6BF8M-Y_iRiCpCNnoRJuWLBRfKloMRurmuY4J5lq9gwedZdeSb7aPRrFFttZJbJk6yYMDjs3g8JAI0RSMUPefxMSFNjzJ1qbwknhbnKS4YrKnM-/s1600/SF+1+b.jpg" /></a></span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: small;">It’s easy to take for granted a film’s location.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Some settings, of course, are mandatory to support the historical accuracy of a film; consider the importance of location in a war picture or biopic.  Other settings might not be important for historical accuracy per se, but are critical to the believability of a film.  For example, Oliver Stone’s <i>Wall Street</i> (1987), title aside, never would have worked anywhere else but in New York City, given the high-finance, decade-of-decadence aspects of the story.  Beyond instances like these, though, it’s easy for filmmakers to pigeonhole movie locations into high-level descriptions like big city, sprawling country, hot resort, or cozy hamlet.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But where do you set your film when you need more than geography?  Where do you set your film when the location is less about sense of place and more about state of mind?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br /><a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">If the film is <i>Vertigo</i>, Alfred Hitchcock’s 1958 masterpiece about a man who might be crazy and a woman who might be possessed, then the setting can only be San Francisco.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Early in the film, the fact that the setting is San Francisco is of little, if any, consequence.  The story opens with John “Scottie” Ferguson (James Stewart), a San Francisco police detective, chasing a criminal on foot across the rooftops of the city; a uniformed officer assists him in the chase.  Rooftop foot chases are nothing new in movies, so this action could have occurred in any major city. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_yR3yesUWPrywosnMHZmfyeH0DV4Uy_Pq5wOPfCfQR0flEyZChBAw46fv19GoASl5ioGDO7zojZFKrmbF1WEjx8cTTR8uup6cgxApZ0OoRKamgWLmMfmhGoGTcTiQVx34A-YN5qKJgTIU/s1600/Vertigo+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_yR3yesUWPrywosnMHZmfyeH0DV4Uy_Pq5wOPfCfQR0flEyZChBAw46fv19GoASl5ioGDO7zojZFKrmbF1WEjx8cTTR8uup6cgxApZ0OoRKamgWLmMfmhGoGTcTiQVx34A-YN5qKJgTIU/s400/Vertigo+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: small;">The scene ends after Scottie slips on a slanted roof and finds himself dangling from a gutter.  The uniformed officer ends his pursuit of the criminal to help Scottie, but slips on the roof tiles and plummets past Scottie to his death.  The ordeal triggers within Scottie a case of acrophobia – the fear of heights – and he is forced into early retirement.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It’s at this point that it would be easy to look at the setting of San Francisco and say, “Of course!  San Francisco has hills, and buildings on hills.  A man suffering from acrophobia surely would be tortured by living in that city.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Maybe, but that’s no more true than if he were living in New York with its towering skyscrapers, or in Denver with its mile-highness.  Let me make this clear now – Scottie’s acrophobia is nothing more than a plot-point.  The film is called <i>Vertigo</i>, not <i>Acrophobia.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Not long after the tragic event, Scottie is contacted by an old college friend, Gavin Elster (Tom Helmore).  Gavin hires Scottie to follow his wife, Madeleine Elster (Kim Novak), spinning a tale of a woman whose recent behavior has been peculiar to the point that Gavin thinks his wife might be possessed by a ghost.  Gavin wants Scottie to get to the bottom of what his wife does with her days – things that conflict with what she tells him she has done and where she has gone, things that rack up too many miles on the odometer.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And so it begins: not just Scottie’s pursuit of the truth, and not just his descent into madness, but the revelation of the core reason why San Francisco is vital to this film; so vital, in fact, that to have shot it anywhere else would have made it one of Hitchcock’s lesser works.  The city, its places and its layout, are all physical representations of the inner-workings of Scottie’s mind.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Pd4jwu8BGP3fBM6PD34-eaK_1RK8zZZSgVo8cHSn51sC_B1s_de7YCqVHVIeUH_4wzzM-Clob4NMdKE8f_w_yxj2Fyju4Ve7TPkA26YW-nPwl7yYZvae8MXNwMhgzA0h_OEaHI5Mz97K/s1600/Vertigo+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Pd4jwu8BGP3fBM6PD34-eaK_1RK8zZZSgVo8cHSn51sC_B1s_de7YCqVHVIeUH_4wzzM-Clob4NMdKE8f_w_yxj2Fyju4Ve7TPkA26YW-nPwl7yYZvae8MXNwMhgzA0h_OEaHI5Mz97K/s400/Vertigo+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: small;">Hitchcock’s shrewdness with setting is established immediately after the rooftop chase.  Scottie is in the apartment of old friend and former love Midge (Barbara Bel Geddes), who has three large windows that overlook San Francisco, and through these windows, we get a clear sense not just of how high Scottie and Midge are but, because of the city’s legendary hills, we get a sense of how far down other things are … how far down Scottie can fall.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I mentioned before that this film is not called <i>Acrophobia</i>, it’s called <i>Vertigo</i>.  Acrophobia is a fear of heights.  Vertigo is a dizzy, confused state of mind.  The difference is an important one.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After meeting with Gavin, Scottie begins his surveillance of Madeleine by waiting for her to leave her apartment so he can tail her car.  This is, of course, what any good detective would do, but by following her, he is, in effect, being led by her.  He doesn’t know it, but as his curiosity becomes obsession, every move he makes is not proactive by him, but reactive to her.  And where does she lead him on this first encounter?  Down a labyrinthine path, with several turns and slow weaves through traffic, coming to a stop in an alley.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Of course, streets and turns and traffic and alleys aren’t unique to San Francisco, but its hills are.  San Francisco, with heights ranging from sea level to 900+ feet (that’s 90+ stories) above sea level, has a unique combination of population density and radical height differences – a combination you won’t find in another city.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYIWNMjc05PIXOb4w0N2xinF_atTeLHaXAxOwGcAib2Ua5Y08FKHWc-xIEFv0-6YnONckJTi2ZZOsn4PkXWMpG9F8K9JlFbAH_iCYjzkVPse9lbTbRbx5nV6DW3_P4NZ8bDCP7DUFQWxhs/s1600/Fillmore+St.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYIWNMjc05PIXOb4w0N2xinF_atTeLHaXAxOwGcAib2Ua5Y08FKHWc-xIEFv0-6YnONckJTi2ZZOsn4PkXWMpG9F8K9JlFbAH_iCYjzkVPse9lbTbRbx5nV6DW3_P4NZ8bDCP7DUFQWxhs/s400/Fillmore+St.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">With that, the most important word in the description of Scottie’s first surveillance of Madeleine is “down.”  Scottie’s first physical trip down the steep, hilled streets of San Francisco in pursuit of the truth about Madeleine is his first psychological step down the steep, perilous path of obsession with (and madness over) this beautiful and mysterious woman.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After purchasing flowers, Madeleine continues to lead Scottie, and her next stop is the cemetery at Mission Delores.  This location is critical, too.  It isn’t just a cemetery, nor is it just a cemetery adjacent to a church.  It’s a cemetery that requires you to navigate through a church to get to it.  And the grave she visits requires a walk along a winding path through the cemetery.  And all of it – the grave at the cemetery next to the church – is a downhill drive away from the flower shop.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The further down the hills of San Francisco Scottie follows, the further down the path of obsession and madness Madeleine leads.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And continues to lead, this time to the Palace of the Legion of Honor – the art museum where she stares at the painting of the woman we later learn is Madeleine's great grandmother.  This time, the drive is relatively flat, but the walk from the car to the museum is a long one.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When it comes to visiting these places, the drives and walks aren’t short and quick.  They are twisting and turning and long and eventual, just as Scottie’s descent into madness isn’t a short and quick plummet; it, too, is twisting and turning and long and eventual.  Whether on paths though alleys (the darker side of Scottie’s soul?) or churches (Scottie’s own shot at redemption?), every physical step brings him closer to Madeleine – a closeness that only feeds his obsession.  </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQ9xoUYAhwMBvvoawKvcs3-XBhHMcfmQsvU-LqpQjBICz0bzgItAI_Zw74CSjHe3PfW6KIfm99JCR-XVmagmbvHZWdo471pVQXkQcfntQn_QXtlgFYKlzIU9mohXzhVPS9oW-Wx1NV6Zy/s1600/Vertigo+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQ9xoUYAhwMBvvoawKvcs3-XBhHMcfmQsvU-LqpQjBICz0bzgItAI_Zw74CSjHe3PfW6KIfm99JCR-XVmagmbvHZWdo471pVQXkQcfntQn_QXtlgFYKlzIU9mohXzhVPS9oW-Wx1NV6Zy/s400/Vertigo+4.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: small;">Madeleine’s last stop is the McKittrick Hotel.  Again, the ride is flat, but something different happens.  Scottie watches Madeleine enter the hotel and pass by a second-story window.  But to enter the hotel, he must climb a steep flight of stairs (which he does), and to get to the second floor, he must climb another steep flight of stairs (which he does again).  Yes, these climbs lend to the ongoing effort and Scottie’s willingness to surrender to Madeleine, but when he gets to the second story room, she’s not there.  And that’s because she’s not up … she’s down.  Climbing won’t get Scottie closer to Madeleine – only descending (into madness) will.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The next day, Madeleine leads Scottie from her apartment straight to the museum (which is still a downward drive, representing Scottie’s ever-growing psychological descent), and from the museum, she leads him to Fort Point, which sits at the base of the Golden Gate Bridge at San Francisco Bay.  Down, down, down Scottie continues to go, both physically and mentally.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fort Point is at sea-level, and there is no going lower than that in San Francisco … unless you go into the Bay itself, which Madeleine does, with a jump that appears to be a suicide attempt.  Of course, Scottie follows to rescue her.  Short of donning scuba gear, Scottie has reached the end his descent – he can go no lower physically, nor can he go any lower mentally.  He appears to be Madeleine’s, lock, stock, and sea-level barrel, but Hitchcock makes sure to prove that to us the next day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span id="goog_2062155625"></span><span id="goog_2062155626"></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsBPIqZEXSMMYGAakfcchVZP_XI6XAlqM_m8YELB_njSvgqvVspygIaXrfHOWnTKcurtVlvmi-elNv-WjID8GflddWqrF2XTC-FexTr2cN-8oes8UtkKwowFFD5nSRLYAcMC0A1AtrsbY6/s1600/scottie+saves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsBPIqZEXSMMYGAakfcchVZP_XI6XAlqM_m8YELB_njSvgqvVspygIaXrfHOWnTKcurtVlvmi-elNv-WjID8GflddWqrF2XTC-FexTr2cN-8oes8UtkKwowFFD5nSRLYAcMC0A1AtrsbY6/s400/scottie+saves.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;">After saving Madeleine, Scottie brings her to his townhouse (the exterior of which is always shot by Hitchcock at a downward angle), but she soon slips out while he is on the phone.  The next day, Scottie resumes his surveillance, and Madeleine leads him on the longest journey yet through the heart of the city, with more turns and steeper hills, only to end up back at his place.  This is Hitchcock at his best in this film; this is Hitchcock telling us that Scottie, in order to find himself, must travel long and winding and down.  And then Hitch gets even better.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When Scottie meets Madeleine at his place, neither have specific plans, so they decide to “wander” together, but before they go, when she is in her car and he is on the outside talking to her, she mentions to Scottie that he left his home door open.  This seems so random and meaningless on the surface, but that door represents the last chance Scottie has of reclaiming himself.  If he runs to the door and runs inside the house and closes the door behind him, never to see Madeleine again, he can begin his psychological ascent back to normal.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivV16p1ps8FBt7EY8Rh_gFHx3VLdPTStiB6xuBKwQkRxCADgSbO63nbHZNObR0ThiSxEqwBQOafKutIKtdugzk6LE54ViFvGTuy3EV11ckiNFH2aTNKvOfY1l5Btd6xqYXmktgFaGe5Sty/s1600/Vertigo+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivV16p1ps8FBt7EY8Rh_gFHx3VLdPTStiB6xuBKwQkRxCADgSbO63nbHZNObR0ThiSxEqwBQOafKutIKtdugzk6LE54ViFvGTuy3EV11ckiNFH2aTNKvOfY1l5Btd6xqYXmktgFaGe5Sty/s400/Vertigo+6.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: small;">Instead, he rushes to close the door; and as the viewer you know, right there, that he has pushed all of his chips into the center of the high-stakes Madeleine table, closing the door to his past self and going all-in with her, no matter how far down all-in might be.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Their next destination is another long and winding drive, this time to see the Big Basin Redwoods.  And while these mighty, centuries-old trees might suggest something to do with height, I’m more intrigued by the fact that she drove the car; Scottie is no longer in control of his own destiny at this point.  By giving into his obsession to her, he is merely along for the ride … her ride.  It’s also on this trip when they kiss for the first time.  Deal sealed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The rest of the film is cinematic history.  If you have seen it, you know.  If you haven’t, I hope I haven’t spoiled anything for you.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In three short days, Scottie not only fell in love with Madeleine, he became obsessed with her to the point of sacrificing his own sanity to be with her.  And therein lies the key to the importance of San Francisco to <i>Vertigo</i>.  Where other cities in other films might represent cookie-cutter locations or easily-recognizable landmarks in otherwise two-dimensional stories, San Francisco offers something no other city could for this story or this film: a sprawling and beautifully architectured representation of one man’s soul.</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif9_00fV90cB2o1bw5veD4kKger-hoXwurousfN7APHATBTUoo35rytzM_pQecyW27Bcn-24ZXgjRPg7O1wL3x4fBoeerLBt9KYxB7KVi64FNuZGYwB6rD2vUuXto4flHMk7KaCoZJSSY/s1600/Coit+Tower+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif9_00fV90cB2o1bw5veD4kKger-hoXwurousfN7APHATBTUoo35rytzM_pQecyW27Bcn-24ZXgjRPg7O1wL3x4fBoeerLBt9KYxB7KVi64FNuZGYwB6rD2vUuXto4flHMk7KaCoZJSSY/s1600/Coit+Tower+3.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">~ </span></i></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdiBkmPvlUgEZxsCdafE3914OfrvNjji1MSZ0VRjYbndNRwT0HYFLXchLOaOid5c6imobhmLsEVWkueyaMvI17-vo8qPH7rAKeG6wfa0eHAxlzmiyJFPrPZTwMtvy56zFQgX52D33cPjk/s1600/Scribe+Hard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdiBkmPvlUgEZxsCdafE3914OfrvNjji1MSZ0VRjYbndNRwT0HYFLXchLOaOid5c6imobhmLsEVWkueyaMvI17-vo8qPH7rAKeG6wfa0eHAxlzmiyJFPrPZTwMtvy56zFQgX52D33cPjk/s200/Scribe+Hard.jpg" width="195" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><b>Michael Nazarewycz</b> is a film buff and writer who spent his childhood watching old black-and-whites and cheesy horrors on UHF.  He's been hooked ever since, and readily admits that he'll watch anything anyone would consider a motion picture, from a nickelodeon silent to a digital epic.  Michael is an Editorial Contributor for US-based <a href="http://manilovefilms.com/author/scribehard/" style="color: #990000;">ManILoveFilms</a>, a Writer for UK-based <a href="http://www.filmoria.co.uk/author/michael-nazarewycz/" style="color: #990000;">Filmoria</a>, and he has just launched a new blog, <a href="http://scribehardonfilm.wordpress.com/" style="color: #990000;">ScribeHard on Film</a>, where he will share more personal thoughts on movies, as well as perform in-depth analysis of the classics.  Michael invites you to follow him on Twitter <a href="http://twitter.com/scribehard" style="color: #990000;">@ScribeHard</a>, where he Tweets mostly about ... what else? ... movies.</span></i></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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A Month of Vertigo Alfred Hitchcock Michael Nazarewycz San Francisco Vertigo VERTIGO: More than just the streets of San Francisco...

By guest contributor Michael Nazarewycz It’s easy to take for granted a film’s location.Some settings, of course, are mandatory to support the historical accuracy of a film; consider the importance of location in a war picture or biopic.  Other setti…

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