THE STORY – An intimate portrait of a fiercely independent Hollywood star who left it all behind to live life on her own terms, revealing a haunting, resilient journey of art, identity, and authenticity in the shadow of one of cinema’s most iconic roles.
THE CAST – Kim Novak
THE TEAM – Alexandre O. Philippe (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 77 Minutes
Alfred Hitchcock’s “Vertigo” is the kind of classic film that elicits an instant rapturous response from cinephiles. The spellbinding images, vibrant cinematography, iconic score, stunning cinematic moments, and practically every other individual aspect of it are all artistic perfection. It’s about as impressive a film as has ever been struck to celluloid. Not to mention, it features one of the best performances of Jimmy Stewart’s illustrious career. And just as important for the film’s incredible legacy is Kim Novak, who plays perhaps the preeminent Hitchcock blonde. What makes her performance all the more impressive is the triple layers of identity that she must portray. Not only does she play Madeleine, the tragic lost soul who believes herself to be the long-dead Carlotta, but she must also be (spoiler alert – although if you haven’t seen “Vertigo,” what are you doing here?) Judy, the woman who inadvertently preys upon the emotions of Stewart’s character by pretending to be Madeleine for the sake of a murder plot. It’s a powerful, aloof performance of both intense strength and shattering vulnerability. Without Novak’s wide-ranging work, the film would lack its necessary quality of mystery and sadness, which makes the shocking ending all the more impactful.
Kim Novak is still with us at 92 years of age. “Kim Novak’s Vertigo,” the new semi-biographical, semi-conversational documentary from filmmaker Alexandre O. Philippe, is very nearly a monologue of information delivered by the star. Philippe, who claims “Vertigo” as his favorite film, is granted incredible access to and by Novak. Not only does he capture her as she recounts moments from her legendary but brief career – she voluntarily left Hollywood less than a decade after the 1958 release of “Vertigo” – Philippe is also on-hand to sift through Novak’s sizable archives, discovering objects from both Novak’s personal life and on-screen experiences, including some legendary items from “Vertigo.”
Philippe’s affection for both Novak and her most famous film is overwhelmingly apparent. And who can blame him for such fawning praise and attention? Any film-lover would burn their Criterion collection for the opportunity to meet a star of one of Hollywood’s finest moments, much less for unfettered access to the tangible objects associated with her career’s high point, not to mention the medium’s high point, too.
And while the film serves as a lovely tribute to a star that Hollywood – like so many other on-screen idols – treated wrongly and unceremoniously disposed of, Philippe’s film struggles to find an essential angle for its exploration. Indeed, the seemingly unedited speeches from Novak are treated with such reverence that it’s as if Philippe felt that to alter or abridge them would be a sign of disrespect. But this piety toward Novak doesn’t serve as a favor to the star. Anyone would expound as she does if given the opportunity; that’s not a point of critique against the actress. But with Novak putting her trust in Philippe as a filmmaker to portray her well, the documentarian seems to be uncertain of how to both craft a compelling film while paying homage to her at the same time.
Film fans hoping for “Kim Novak’s Vertigo” to be a tell-all behind-the-scenes expedition through Hitchcock’s masterpiece would do well to alter their expectations. Indeed, the film spends as much time (if not more) on the paintings that Novak has crafted in her retirement as it does on factoids about “Vertigo.” The film also serves as an atypical, non-linear biography of Novak’s acting career. Like many stars of her time, her career began in an unlikely, unplanned manner and accelerated quickly, a result of the studio system’s celebrity manufacturing conveyor belt. Her important, pre-“Vertigo” performances in “Picnic” and “Jeanne Eagels” are also given fair attention by both Novak and Philippe, ensuring that the most well-known movie in her filmography doesn’t dominate and swallow up everything else she did on-screen.
But the moments where “Vertigo” is the center of attention are, perhaps obviously, the best parts of the documentary. Her analysis of her character is in-depth and well-explained, showing that Novak has clearly spent a lot of time assessing and discussing the film. The famous gray suit that she wears in the film also plays a role in the documentary, although it must be said that the drawn-out manner in which she’s shown opening the box it’s lived in for decades is extended to the point of parody – another instance in which Philippe would’ve done well to be a bit more discerning in the edit. Philippe’s filmmaking lacks refinement here in general, and the uncreative editing and lower-budget look of the film aren’t helped when compared to footage from one of the most beautiful films ever made.
But still, Novak herself shines through and proves to be a worthwhile subject for the documentary that bears her name. Indeed, her story of survival, both artistic and literal (as the film details, she survived two house fires, managing to save her original “Vertigo” script), will be inspiring to anyone, regardless of their proximity to show business. Philippe’s ultra-loving documentary means well, even if its decided lack of polish and the utter preciousness with which he treats his subject keep it from feeling like a complete thought of a film.
