Her key is on the rack

I remember my ex-mother-in-common-law asking two questions after we saw the 1984 revival of Vertigo:
  1. Why don't they make movies like that anymore?
  2. Why does the lady putting olive oil on her rubber plant leaves insist that Carlotta Valdes hadn't come into her hotel that day?
I had no answer. In fact, I hadn't even remembered that plot point, I was too swept away -- but the small scenes, the fragments of the mirror -- I remember those.
Copyright 1998 Ray Davis