Welcome back to the mystifying vortex of Alfred Hitchcock’s “Vertigo”– a film that always rewards us with something new. As a long time fan, my intention is not to write a definitive analysis–that has been done brilliantly elsewhere–but to propose an additional interpretation of this complex film.
In the first post of this series, we focused on Carlotta’s reappearing necklace and Scottie’s reaction to Midge’s self portrait — how seeing Midge reflected in the image of his obsession deeply unsettles him. That reaction is what we will explore today.
Scottie is one of the most polarizing figures in Hitchcock’s oeuvre, and rightfully so.
His actions are deeply troubling, a product of an unhinged mind. But is there more to Scottie than we initially see, a man hopelessly obsessed with an enigmatic beauty?
Perhaps there is something driving his obsession that goes straight into the core of who he is and where the story must ultimately take him.
The Blindness of Vertigo

To fully understand Scottie, let’s draw on the few background details Hitchcock and the writers give us about him.
Firstly, we know he has a college education and is a former detective. This is discussed in his meeting with Gavin Elster, his old college buddy.
As a detective, we know Scottie is a man driven by logic, finding clues, and piecing them together.
Then one day on the job, he becomes paralyzed by a psychological case of vertigo caused by guilt and trauma. It follows him, haunts him, and won’t let him go.

When he meets the most bewildering blonde who turns his world upside down, once again there’s a case for him to solve, but the answers elude him because this woman is not plagued by tangible threats but by the trauma of a distant past.
In the mastery of his logical world Scottie tries to reason her fears away. “You see? There’s a reason for everything. Madeleine, try,” he tells her. But this he does in vain because her trauma, akin to his vertigo, cannot be chased away with logic.
Watching this scene, I feel that in Scottie’s overwhelming obsession with helping Madeleine conquer her demons, there is a desperate plea to be free of his own.
This projection of his healing onto her, I call the “twin cure”. I imagine Scottie thinking, “If I save her, maybe I can conquer my own fears. If I can help her, maybe I can finally heal myself.”
Sadly, Scottie cannot cure his vertigo through Madeleine and the twin cure is ultimately futile.
Choosing Self-Deception

Returning to the disturbing scene where Midge realizes Scottie is being consumed by the fantasy of Madeleine…
By painting herself into Carlotta’s portrait, is Midge saying, “Notice me, I can be part of your world”? Is she using his language–the portrait, Carlotta, the necklace–to try and break through to him? Or is she poking fun at this silly ghost story?
Whatever her intentions, Scottie sees the painting and immediately feels that something is wrong.
To Scottie, Midge has invaded his fantasy by appropriating the image of his obsession. He can’t articulate why, but he rejects it and walks away. Whatever she’s offering by inserting herself into Carlotta’s world, he adamantly refuses it.
Midge, his oldest and most loyal friend, is simply too real. She represents everything Scottie is fleeing — the present, the tangible, the truth -and her intrusion into his fantasy creates a dissonance he cannot bear.
Scottie’s rejection of reality means that the fantasy must be maintained–until it isn’t.
Through the Fog

In our first post we simply noticed — the necklace, and the three women who wear it. Hitchcock gives it close-up after close-up, demanding we pay attention.
Does the necklace curse whomever it adorns, or does its presence hold a deeper meaning than a decorative plot device?
For now, it is enough that we notice — even if Scottie cannot.
Next: But Scottie wasn’t the only one building illusions. In the next post, we examine two architects — and the delicate dance between illusion and truth that neither can control.
All images: Vertigo (1958, Paramount Pictures) via Film-Grab and IMDb

