261 Days of Horror, Day 71: Psycho
Apr. 2nd, 2007 07:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yendiPsycho. 1960. Directed by Alfred Hitchcock. Written by Joseph Stefano. Released by Universal.
As always, the beginning of the month kicks off with a true classic.
Odds are, if you haven't seen Psycho, you know three things about it:
• A woman named Marion Crane gets stabbed to death in a motel shower.
• The motel's proprietor, Norman Bates, blames the murders on his mother.
• In the end, Bates turns out the be the killer, and he's also been pretending to be his long-dead mother.
And if that's all you know about Psycho*, you're missing out. This is Alfred Hitchcock here, not Eli Roth. Plot, tension, and amazing camera shots rule the day in this film.
A quick plot overview:
Marion and her lover, Sam Loomis**, need money. Naturally, the best way to get some is by swiping a briefcase filled with fat stacks of cash from the real estate office in which Marion works. Marion drives across the Arizona desert to her California-based lover, but bad weather and a growing sense of paranoia and guilt force her to stop in the Bates Motel, the Creepiest Motel Ever. The nice proprietor, Norman Bates, seems harmless enough, but his invalid mother, ensconced at the spooky house next to the motel, is obnoxious and domineering. Nevertheless, Marion feels comfortable enough to take a room and hop into the shower. Soon enough, a female figure sneaks in and stabs Marion to death to a crescendo of violins (accompanied by Marion's screaming on vocals).
When Norman sees what his "Mother" has done, he's horrified. Naturally, he does the only morally acceptable thing and buries Marion's body, along with all of her possessions, in the motel's swamp***. Those possessions include the $40K that Marion had in one of her bags.
Various folks eventually start looking for Marion, seeing as not only she's disappeared, but so has that $40K in cash. See, back in 1960, $40K was enough to buy the entire state of Florida****, so there's lots of incentive here. A private detective named Milton Arbogas makes it to the Bates Motel, but gets killed by "Mother" as well. However, Lila Crane (Marion's sister) and Sam Loomis, following up on information that Milton sent their way before his untimely demise, make it to the hotel, and while Sam confronts (and is knocked unconscious by) Norman, Lila checks out the house. Instead of a live and cranky woman, Lila finds . . .a desiccated corpse! And I don't mean Ann Coulter*****.
Norman, now dressed in old-lady drag, attacks Lila, but Sam has recovered from the blow he took, and he arrives in time to subdue Norman and save the day. In the final moments, we learn that Norman killed his mother years ago after years of dealing with her overbearing ways. Naturally, this made him feel guilty, and he coped with his guilt by digging up the body and taking on her personality. We also see that "Mother" has now taken what appears to be permanent residence in Norman, who has now been safely locked away (until some twits decide to make a sequel twenty-five years later).
Let's get the big thing out of the way: the shower scene. It's brutal, unexpected, and, with that amazing violin music by Bernard Hermann, one of the most iconic murder scenes in film history. It's been copied so often that folks who have never seen this movie know the images by heart. The shadow of "Mother," the stabbing, the blood swirling into the drain; it's as memorable a scene as any in film history.
What's even more powerful about the scene, however, is the context. Everything about Psycho up to the shower scene points towards Marion as the protagonist, a flawed but nice woman who eventually overcomes the killer after facing all sorts of danger. By the time she dies -- a good third of the way through the film -- she was the only character who had been given enough screen time to be called a protagonist. Likewise, private eye Arbogas spends the second third of the movie as the eyes of the audience, and as he walks down a hallway, stalked by the knife-wielding killer, the audience sees death stalking their identifying character, with no sign of relief.
Nowadays, such twists aren't completely unexpected (although they're certainly rare), but Hitchcock's masterful manipulation of his audience is perfectly played, and is still just as impressive now as it must have been forty-five years ago.
Hitchcock's manipulation of camera angles, of course, is perfect. From the murder of Arbogast -- drenched with dramatic irony, as the entire audience watches him get stalked, a scene that's swiped as often as the shower scene -- to the wonderful framing shots of the Motel and the house behind it, every shot is perfectly crafted. Novelist Robert Bloch, of course, gets much of the credit for the plot itself (including the concept of killing off perceived protagonists), but Hitchcock and screenwriter Joseph Stefano do a superb job of translating Bloch's novel to the big screen.
And, of course, the cast here is wonderful. Tony Perkins, as Bates, is the perfect embodiment of meekness and propriety, until he loses it. Janet Leigh is, of course, the perfect victim. And John Gavin, Martin Balsam, John McIntire and Vera Mile all provide solid performances as well. A typically wonderful Hitchcock cast.
There's almost nothing I can write about Psycho that dozens of others haven't already written. It's served as the prototype for modern slashers and modern thrillers, and has been ripped off (often shamelessly) by countless filmmakers. It might not technically be Hitchcock's masterpiece (I'm partial to Rear Window, Vertigo, and Strangers on a Train), but it's still a brilliant piece of filmmaking, and one of the cornerstones of the genre.
*Okay, you probably know two more things: That you can't talk to this movie like a normal human being; and that Gus Van Sant made an insultingly sucktastic "shot-by-shot" remake of this movie, starring Vince Vaughn during what had to be his druggie years and featuring Flea in a significant role. That entire scene in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back in which Gus is gleefully counting his cash while phoning in "Good Will Hunting 2?" Clearly inspired by his "direction" in this film.
**Yes, John Carpenter's constant use of "Loomis" as a last name is based on more than the presence of actress Nancy Loomis in some of his films.
***Yes, this motel has a swamp. Don't they all?
****By 2000, it wasn't even enough for Broward County.
*****Censors would never allow something that horrible on the screen back in the '60s.
As always, the beginning of the month kicks off with a true classic.
Odds are, if you haven't seen Psycho, you know three things about it:
• A woman named Marion Crane gets stabbed to death in a motel shower.
• The motel's proprietor, Norman Bates, blames the murders on his mother.
• In the end, Bates turns out the be the killer, and he's also been pretending to be his long-dead mother.
And if that's all you know about Psycho*, you're missing out. This is Alfred Hitchcock here, not Eli Roth. Plot, tension, and amazing camera shots rule the day in this film.
A quick plot overview:
Marion and her lover, Sam Loomis**, need money. Naturally, the best way to get some is by swiping a briefcase filled with fat stacks of cash from the real estate office in which Marion works. Marion drives across the Arizona desert to her California-based lover, but bad weather and a growing sense of paranoia and guilt force her to stop in the Bates Motel, the Creepiest Motel Ever. The nice proprietor, Norman Bates, seems harmless enough, but his invalid mother, ensconced at the spooky house next to the motel, is obnoxious and domineering. Nevertheless, Marion feels comfortable enough to take a room and hop into the shower. Soon enough, a female figure sneaks in and stabs Marion to death to a crescendo of violins (accompanied by Marion's screaming on vocals).
When Norman sees what his "Mother" has done, he's horrified. Naturally, he does the only morally acceptable thing and buries Marion's body, along with all of her possessions, in the motel's swamp***. Those possessions include the $40K that Marion had in one of her bags.
Various folks eventually start looking for Marion, seeing as not only she's disappeared, but so has that $40K in cash. See, back in 1960, $40K was enough to buy the entire state of Florida****, so there's lots of incentive here. A private detective named Milton Arbogas makes it to the Bates Motel, but gets killed by "Mother" as well. However, Lila Crane (Marion's sister) and Sam Loomis, following up on information that Milton sent their way before his untimely demise, make it to the hotel, and while Sam confronts (and is knocked unconscious by) Norman, Lila checks out the house. Instead of a live and cranky woman, Lila finds . . .a desiccated corpse! And I don't mean Ann Coulter*****.
Norman, now dressed in old-lady drag, attacks Lila, but Sam has recovered from the blow he took, and he arrives in time to subdue Norman and save the day. In the final moments, we learn that Norman killed his mother years ago after years of dealing with her overbearing ways. Naturally, this made him feel guilty, and he coped with his guilt by digging up the body and taking on her personality. We also see that "Mother" has now taken what appears to be permanent residence in Norman, who has now been safely locked away (until some twits decide to make a sequel twenty-five years later).
Let's get the big thing out of the way: the shower scene. It's brutal, unexpected, and, with that amazing violin music by Bernard Hermann, one of the most iconic murder scenes in film history. It's been copied so often that folks who have never seen this movie know the images by heart. The shadow of "Mother," the stabbing, the blood swirling into the drain; it's as memorable a scene as any in film history.
What's even more powerful about the scene, however, is the context. Everything about Psycho up to the shower scene points towards Marion as the protagonist, a flawed but nice woman who eventually overcomes the killer after facing all sorts of danger. By the time she dies -- a good third of the way through the film -- she was the only character who had been given enough screen time to be called a protagonist. Likewise, private eye Arbogas spends the second third of the movie as the eyes of the audience, and as he walks down a hallway, stalked by the knife-wielding killer, the audience sees death stalking their identifying character, with no sign of relief.
Nowadays, such twists aren't completely unexpected (although they're certainly rare), but Hitchcock's masterful manipulation of his audience is perfectly played, and is still just as impressive now as it must have been forty-five years ago.
Hitchcock's manipulation of camera angles, of course, is perfect. From the murder of Arbogast -- drenched with dramatic irony, as the entire audience watches him get stalked, a scene that's swiped as often as the shower scene -- to the wonderful framing shots of the Motel and the house behind it, every shot is perfectly crafted. Novelist Robert Bloch, of course, gets much of the credit for the plot itself (including the concept of killing off perceived protagonists), but Hitchcock and screenwriter Joseph Stefano do a superb job of translating Bloch's novel to the big screen.
And, of course, the cast here is wonderful. Tony Perkins, as Bates, is the perfect embodiment of meekness and propriety, until he loses it. Janet Leigh is, of course, the perfect victim. And John Gavin, Martin Balsam, John McIntire and Vera Mile all provide solid performances as well. A typically wonderful Hitchcock cast.
There's almost nothing I can write about Psycho that dozens of others haven't already written. It's served as the prototype for modern slashers and modern thrillers, and has been ripped off (often shamelessly) by countless filmmakers. It might not technically be Hitchcock's masterpiece (I'm partial to Rear Window, Vertigo, and Strangers on a Train), but it's still a brilliant piece of filmmaking, and one of the cornerstones of the genre.
*Okay, you probably know two more things: That you can't talk to this movie like a normal human being; and that Gus Van Sant made an insultingly sucktastic "shot-by-shot" remake of this movie, starring Vince Vaughn during what had to be his druggie years and featuring Flea in a significant role. That entire scene in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back in which Gus is gleefully counting his cash while phoning in "Good Will Hunting 2?" Clearly inspired by his "direction" in this film.
**Yes, John Carpenter's constant use of "Loomis" as a last name is based on more than the presence of actress Nancy Loomis in some of his films.
***Yes, this motel has a swamp. Don't they all?
****By 2000, it wasn't even enough for Broward County.
*****Censors would never allow something that horrible on the screen back in the '60s.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 12:07 am (UTC)I'm so glad you brought that up. So many people overlook how pertinent that was. It completely changed the way movies were made. I mean honestly it was unheard of for the main character to die within the first 1/3 of the movie and it was certainly unheard of for them to die such a grotesque and senseless death. Hitchcock was a genius.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 12:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 12:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 12:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 01:14 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 01:21 am (UTC)My favourite send-up of the shower scene, btw, is in Phantom of the Paradise, though it's also (IMHO) one of the few things done well in Psycho III.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 01:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 01:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 01:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 01:35 am (UTC)*nod* My reaction was essentially, "sure, they killed Marion, but no way does he bite it too."
As for shower send-ups, surely Barry Levinson's "stabbing" of Mel Brooks in High Anxiety (complete with newsprint running into the drain like blood) is up there?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 03:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 05:14 am (UTC)But the rest of the movie is so damn good that it makes up for it.
"That kid gets no tip."
Date: 2007-04-03 12:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 01:10 pm (UTC)And if you still hate the replica, just remember that it's an experiment that'll likely never be repeated. Film, I think, isn't well-suited to being restaged the way that this film was; plays are far more flexible an artform for restaging, for instance.
By the way, original film trivia: probably every director has a low moment of doubt, worried that his latest film is the worst thing ever. And Bernard Herrmann was visiting with Hitchcock when Hitchcock had that moment on Psycho; this was after shooting but before Herrmann had written his score. Hitchcock (according to Herrmann's account) told him that he was thinking of cutting the film down to one hour and showing it on television! (And as Stephen King said in Danse Macabre, Psycho could easily have been shown on 1960s prime-time, save for the 45-second shower scene; the content is TV-friendly, though the style is far more developed. I think the film is so iconic that people forget how well-shot it was.) Herrmann said, perhaps more to humor Hitchcock at that low moment, asked him to wait on that decision -- which of course wasn't likely, just Hitchcock feeling creatively insecure -- until he heard the score, for which he said he had "an idea." That's all Herrmann said about the style of his music...
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 01:17 pm (UTC)And writer Joseph Stefano and director Hitchcock knew to undercut that pyschiatrist almost immediately with the final scene of Norman Bates staring at us. It's like the filmmakers are saying, Oh yeah, you think you've explained away Norman Bates, heh heh heh...
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 04:14 pm (UTC)Takes nothing away from Hitchcock, though.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-03 04:20 pm (UTC)To Hitchcock's immense credit, he often tried to get people to give Bloch more credit for the movie's brilliance. A lot of the critics dismissed Bloch's book as a "potboiler," and even today Bloch rarely gets credited in the general public, but Hitchcock always tried to downplay himself in deference to the author. I remember reading a quote somewhere that H said he "just added dialouge to Bloch's book," or something to that effect.