BLOW OUT: A love letter to Vertigo & voyeurism

By Sarah Jester

Ever get the feeling you’re being watched?

Okay, ever peer into the apartment across the street to catch a glimpse of the neighbors’ evening routine? Eye the sidewalk down below from your comfortable perch as a melodramatic tableau unfolds?

You are a voyeur. Through these practices, you regularly exchange validation, entertainment, and answers with strangers and companions alike. You just might not know what questions you’re unconsciously asking them.

Cinema is pure, unadulterated voyeurism. Film directors are some of the most voyeuristic individuals alive. As a result, there’s no shortage of films about voyeurism. Famously, Hitchcock concerned himself with depicting voyeurs of all kinds -- both sympathetic and villainous. Whether it’s a retired policeman, an injured photographer, or a chillingly cold housekeeper, someone is always watching.

If Hitchcock is the patron saint of cinematic voyeurism, Brian De Palma is one of his most devout worshippers. Take 1981’s Blow Out, a neo-noir homage to Hitchcock and his beloved catalogue of films about voyeurism. John Travolta and Nancy Allen star in this striking thriller that uses audio as a voyeuristic conduit.

Travolta plays Jack Terry, a dispassionate audio engineer tasked with recording sound effects for a B-list slasher in the streets of Philadelphia. The film opens on a test screening of Co-ed Frenzy, which features a prominent nod to Psycho’s enduring shower scene. While re-recording wind effects later that evening, Terry accidentally captures audio of a car crashing into the creek down below. Jack dives in and rescues Sally Bedina, played by Allen, from the sinking car, although he cannot save her male companion at the wheel. 

This kickstarts a series of Vertigo parallels. Although Rear Window may come to mind as Hitchcock’s most voyeuristic film, Vertigo takes the cake for me. Retired detective Scottie Ferguson takes on an unusual assignment in which he’s tasked with tailing his old college pal’s wife, Madeleine, who has been acting strangely. Scottie drives yards behind Madeleine, following her into flower shops and churches, secretly watching her every move. 

On one particular occasion, Scottie tails Madeleine to the Golden Gate Bridge, where she suddenly throws herself into the waters. As Scottie fishes a soaked Madeleine out of the San Francisco Bay, their individual trajectories become intertwined. Jack and Sally’s lives intermingle to an extent of their own. That’s not to mention that Blow Out is peppered with the vibrant red and green interiors and fluorescent signage that infamously illuminated Vertigo, adding an eerie glow to an already charged atmosphere.

Like Vertigo’s Madeleine/Judy, makeup artist & escort-for-hire Sally is no innocent victim. In cahoots with photographer Manny Karp, the two were hired to catch presidential hopeful Governor George McRyan in the act -- though they were unaware of the role they were playing in a larger, fatal plot. Jack’s guilt complex, stemming from a failed wiretap operation that resulted in the death of an undercover cop, is a mirror image of Scottie’s inability to rescue a fellow police officer as he falls to his death from the rooftops of San Francisco during an opening chase scene. 

Vertigo concentrates heavily on doubles. After Madeleine’s death, he is haunted by her mirror image in the San Francisco spots they used to frequent as a couple. But as the blonde, stiffly dressed women that catch Scottie’s eye emerge into the light, none of them resemble his lost love. That is, until he encounters red-headed Judy on the street, a woman who on the surface does not possess Madeleine’s icy blonde features, but nevertheless reminds Scottie of her. Scottie spends the remainder of their short-lived relationship transforming Judy into an exact double of Madeleine. 

Sally’s profession as a makeup artist comes with a twinge of irony. Scottie facilitates Judy’s transformation into Madeleine by providing hairstylists, makeup artists, and retail saleswomen with exacting descriptions of the crisp makeup, platinum hair, and suits tailored to stiff perfection. Sally’s insistence that she can completely transform anyone with makeup marries Blow Out’s emphasis on doubles to Burke’s imprecise voyeurism. 

Despite Sally’s initial assertion that she doesn’t “like being observed,” Blow Out maintains the same voyeuristic approach to doubles -- albeit with a more humorous angle. Burke, originally hired by a rival of McRyan’s to catch him in the act with Sally, takes things a step further when he blows out the tire of McRyan’s car and assassinates him. Realizing Sally is still alive, he attempts to kill her to cover up the initial assassination, only to murder three women that resemble her. (For a professional hitman, you’d think he could correctly identify his target on the first try.)

Yes, Blow Out takes cues from Vertigo, but it diverges at a few critical points. While Judy is frightened by the shadowy figure of a nun and falls to her death, Jack is forced to watch as Burke, who has caught up with Sally, strangles her to death. It’s interesting that De Palma doesn't take the Vertigo parallel one step further and have Burke push Sally to her death as they struggle high above the ground. But plotwise, it completes the circle on the false character of the “Liberty Bell Strangler” Burke invented to conceal his mistaken identity murders. Even more sinister is Jack’s decision to record Sally’s dying screams as he struggles to reach her in time. 

De Palma flips the script on cinematic voyeurism via Jack’s profession. Voyeurs in film typically took on the form of perverts with long-range cameras (sorry, Jimmy Stewart). By turning to a different medium, De Palma cleverly and successfully incorporates audio into the mix (ha, ha) at every turn -- whether it’s Jack capturing assassination audio during a foley recording session, recreating a murder scene by combining Karp’s photos with his recordings, or listening helplessly as Burke lures Sally to her death. Ultimately, Jack’s voyeurism has trapped him into a sick waking dream he’s forced to relive over and over again as his producer has elected to use Sally’s recorded scream in the latest cut of Co-ed Frenzy. 

When does an impulse turn from harmless to sinister? When does the crossing of an ethical line morph into a vicious cycle of crime? Do directors see themselves as voyeurs? Can voyeurism be ethical?

These are the questions I have found myself pondering but unable to answer in the weeks following my Blow Out watch. 

Consider a double feature!