VERTIGO (1958), dir. Alfred Hitchcock

This has been referred to as Hitchcock’s definitive movie, and having seen it, I think I can understand why. It’s a mystery, which the director was already adept at making, but also a tale of obsession, a theme that resonated throughout his career.

And above all, “Vertigo” is pure cinema, a film that glides along by the sheer power of images and sound. Hitchcock, in top form as both an artist and craftsman, paces the movie to reflect the glacial rhythm of a dream, which is fitting given the plot. Ostensibly, upper-crust wife Kim Novak has become obsessed with the life of her dead ancestor, and spends her days walking around San Francisco in a trance. As Hitchcock draws us into this unusual dilemma, via a retired policeman (Jimmy Stewart) with the titular condition, he frames Novak in establishing shots that feel spare and still to the point of eeriness.

This is a film that really must be experienced. I could describe it in further detail, but I would be required to give away either too much or too little information. I must not do that. All I will say is that “Vertigo” seems to have two halves, which are unified by a sense of romantic helplessness that is heartbreaking. Several writers reportedly worked on the script before Samuel Taylor’s version earned Hitchcock’s approval. The extra care certainly shows; there is great dialogue and a plot twist that, though unexpected, makes sense dramatically as well as thematically.

Finally, one cannot say enough about Jimmy Stewart and Kim Novak, who rose to the challenge of extremely versatile roles. If there are two movies in “Vertigo,” there are also two characters in the script for both leads. Novak gets to play the requisite icy blonde, but also appears as a non-blonde who may be less enigmatic, if perhaps just as mysterious as her doppelganger. Stewart, meanwhile, is a more surprising double-dip; as expected, he portrays the everyman that viewers readily identify with. Gradually, however, his Detective John “Scottie” Ferguson starts transgressing a few moral and psychological boundaries, becoming someone just as recognizably human, though audience members may choose not to admit it.

Overall rating: **** (out of ****)

KINGDOM OF HEAVEN (2005), dir. Ridley Scott

Like the characters depicted in this movie, I went to Jerusalem looking for God, but never found Him.

Indeed, the closest “Kingdom of Heaven” gets to religious idolatry are a few shots of a big gold cross. It looks gaudy and overly ornate, like it should be hanging on the wall of a drive-thru chapel in Las Vegas.

Removing anything resembling religious passion from a movie about the holy land is quite a gamble, and in this case, not an altogether successful one. What we are left with is a routine, albeit beautiful-looking action-adventure flick. Its saving grace is director Ridley Scott ("The Duellists," “Gladiator”), who fills the frame with his usual repertoire of exotic, painterly visuals and minimal characterization.

Orlando Bloom plays Balian, a young blacksmith who journeys to Jerusalem, becomes knighted, gains the affections of a princess, and is left to save the city from rampaging Muslims. He doesn’t really do much to end up in such a precarious position. Rather, it’s what he doesn’t do which lands him in hot water. Balian may be a character who stays true to his conscience to the very end, but that doesn’t make him the most exciting protagonist.

But if he’s a dull hero, the villains are even worse off. While the idea of Christian fanatics as opposed to Muslim ones may seem clever on paper, the script lets them down. Writer William Monahan reduces the majority of Christian characters to broad caricatures, especially Marton Csokas as Guy de Lusignan, the main heavy. The usually-reliable Brendan Gleeson is also wasted as de Lusignan’s slob sidekick. One gets the feeling that their hatred towards Muslims stems from a sense of religious superiority. However, since we get so little Christianity in this movie, it’s hard to know exactly what motivates them. To their credit, the actors don’t seem to know themselves.

A lot of the dialogue is flat. Also, scenes at court where Csokas’ knights wearing red crosses nearly come to blows with Jeremy Irons’ knights wearing blue crosses seem unnecessary. At least we have those sweeping battle sequences at the end, involving catapults, siege towers, and things getting blown up real good. Like Scott’s last war epic, the contemporary “Blackhawk Down,” most of the combat footage is shot from ground level, representing the point of view of man, not God, who wouldn’t be watching anyway.

Overall rating: ** (out of ****)