Psycho

Even though this film came out in 1960, with a good six or seven years of "Old Hollywood" still to come, this movie, in retrospect, can definitely be seen as a changing of the times. Much more realistic, visceral, and violent then any other popular film of its type up to this point, "Psycho" was also the first film in which Alfred Hitchcock was able to delve deeply into the mind of a killer and show more of the gruesome results. Restrained for years to accurately depict the mind of a deranged killer, Hitchcock filled "Psycho" with tons of pop psychology. The killer, Norman Bates, is a mild mannered hotelier, whose Bates Motel stands on a now ignored stretch of highway in the desert. Verbally abused as a child by his mother, (she constantly challenged his masculinity), Mrs. Bates reduces Norman to a pathetic, but highly dangerous man, who kills AS his mother, after young Norman killed her and her lover. What makes "Psycho" so disturbing is the historical significance of this movie. Based on notorious serial killer Ed Gein, who would also inspire such morbid tales as "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" and "Silence of the Lambs", "Psycho" was the first movie to capitalize on this unfortunate man and his even more unfortunate victims. Now it seems rather dated as audiences are extremely desensitized to all types of dementia in slasher movies, and pretty much all people remember is the legendary "shower scene", but for its time, there was nothing else that even came close to the intensity and thrills of "Psycho".

One of the many great things about "Psycho" is the way Alfred Hitchcock deftly plays with the audience. We first meet Marion Crane (we would have first seen her breasts, but Hitchcock was about ten years too soon for that), as she has a lunch hour rendezvous with her lover. Marion works for a banker and within fifteen minutes of the movie's opening she has stolen $40,000 from a client of his and goes on the run with the money. Hitchcock does not judge his character, instead merely following her as she becomes increasingly paranoid and remorseful. There is incredible tension in a scene where Marion simply exchanges her car. Finally stopping for the night at the Bates Motel, Marion shares dinner with the proprietor, Norman. During this scene Norman reveals himself to be quite odd, explaining to Marion his strained relationship with his mother but also the responsibility he feels towards her and the motel. Marion, played by the beautiful Janet Leigh, begins to calm down as she finds herself back in control of her environment (or so she thinks), sharing a meal and conversation with the socially awkward Norman (played to perfection by Anthony Perkins, who brilliantly conveys the part of a nervous young man whose only source of female companionship has been his mother, not a pretty young lady). Marion's sense of safety proves to be premature however; after dinner she slips into the shower and spectacuarly meets her doom. Comprised entirely of quick shots, none of which show contact between knife and skin, the "shower scene" is arguably Hitchcock's most bravura sequence. It becomes even more remarkable when you consider two things: Janet Leigh, the alleged protagonist, is now dead barely 40 minutes into the film, and Anthony Perkins was 3,000 miles away while this scene was filmed. Hitchcock has now introduced his protagonist, severely questioned her morality, then killed her, thus switching protagonists, all by the end of the first act!

The story now becomes Norman's. While the audience assumes it was Norman's mother who killed Marion, thanks to the haunting silhouette we see standing in the doorway right before the shrieking violins, Norman dashes back onto the scene and as any doting son would, begins to clean up the mess his mother made. He removes all traces of Marion ever being at the Bates Motel, including putting her body and possessions into her car and driving it into a muddy pond behind the motel. All is well until Marion's sister hires a private investigator to find her. Detective Arbogast stumbles upon the Bates Motel as he tries to piece together Marion's last days and after getting brushed off by Norman, returns to question Norman's mother, whose shadow he saw standing ominously in the window. Quietly sneaking into the house and walking up the stairs this moment foreshadows tricks so many directors would subsequently use in slasher movies: a character foolishly entering a dangerous house, moving painstakingly slowly, holding back any action for as long as possible, teasing viewers instead with quiet, empty frames and sinister music. Once Arbogast reaches the top of the stairs the camera quickly cuts to a bird's eye view of the landing and we see "Mother" dash from her bedroom, knife raised high above her head, moments before Arbogast realizes anyone else is there. His slow fall back down the stairs is also interesting, as it is a play on the celebrated "trombone" shot from "Vertigo". Once the detective goes missing Marion's sister Lila and her boyfriend Sam go out to the Bates Motel, and the entire truth comes out. They learn from a local sheriff that Norman Bates' mother has been dead for years, Lila finds the rotted corpse of his long dead mother, and Sam subdues Norman, dressed as his mother. After Norman's condition is explained, in a perfectly timed out speech by Dr. Richmond, Hitchcock leaves us with two haunting final images: first Norman staring malevolently into the camera, while Norman's mother gives a creepy voiceover, then as this shot fades out a skull morphs onto Norman's face, then as the credits begin to roll we see Marion's car being pulled out of the pond. Hitchcock definitely knew the frightening wallop his film packed, and some of the stipulations he included with screenings of this film were that no press was to see the film prior to its release (to keep the sensational plot details under wraps, the first time such a tactic was employed) and also that theaters were not to admit anyone after the film had begun. And thus at the age of 61, Alfred Hitchcock, "the master", had ushered his style of filmmaking, the genre he essentially thrust into the realm of pop moviedom, the thriller, out of "Old Hollywood" and into "New Hollywood".