The credits are presented with several horizontal lines wiping the names across the screen and wiping them off, which will eventually cleverly transition into a set of venetian blinds (much the same way the graph-effect morphs itself into skyscrapers in “North by Northwest”). Inside the window is a seedy motel room where the lead character Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) has just finished having sex with her boyfriend Sam. Though there is nothing morally objectionable about their relationship, Sam still prefers to keep it discreet because he is divorced. Whether this is an excuse to keep Marion a certain length away or because the motivation he offers (being ashamed that he is too poor to be a husband or even serious boyfriend) is indeed noble is not quite clear, though it seems he is a little more sleazy since every turn in their conversation goes back to sex. What is clear is that Marion desperately wants them to have a future together sooner rather than later.
Needless to say, when the opportunity for her to embezzle $40,000 from her job presents itself, Marion seizes it. Despite the fact that she has just committed grand larceny, Janet Leigh does a remarkable job of illustrating that she is by no means a career criminal or even a bad person, but rather just someone driven to extreme measures by desperation. She stumbles through her escape, is constantly paranoid and generally seems very awkward and confused. Trying to get to Sam in California, Marion is forced to stop for the night at the remote, desolate Bates Motel. Though it is extremely early in the film, the entire segment at the Bates Motel is both incredibly important as well as technically flawless.
From the moment she checks in, there seems to be something creepy about the propreitor Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins). Perhaps it is his awkwardness with women, his love for taxidermy or his unusual doting over his mother- either way it doesn’t feel natural or normal when Norman asks Marion to join him for dinner. In just this short segment, so much foreshadowing and stage-setting occurs; Norman compares Marion to a bird (with several dead birds staring her in the face from the walls) Norman has a conversation with his mother where she chastises him for lusting after Marion and a very ominous yet relatable line where Norman tells her “we all go a little mad sometimes.” While this would normally creep someone out to hear, Marion can’t deny this as, the whole time she has been fleeing Phoenix for California, she has been hearing various voices in her head.
After the unsettling dinner, Marion goes to her room where she seems to have a moment of clarity and appears ready to turn back, face the music and give back the money she stole. In another brilliant use of foreshadowing, Marion starts to undress for her now legendary shower and struts around the room in a black bra and black panties; if there is anything silent films have taught me its that black clothes only ever indicate death. And besides, she was wearing white underwear in the hotel room with Sam so we know she owns other colors.
The brilliance of the shower scene isn’t just the way it is directed; the multiple jumping camera angles, the best use of music in a film probably ever, the strategic way every part of Marion’s body besides her naughty bits are shown, the unsettlingly gruesome stabbing sounds etc- but the sheer irony. The shower is supposed to represent a fresh start or Marion washing away her wrongdoings, instead it proves to be her undoing- it also effectively bookends Marion’s onscreen time by accentuating the point that her worst moments tend to occur in motels.
“A boy’s best friend is his mother…” (Norman Bates, “Psycho”)
Norman destroys the evidence of Marion’s visit and blames the murder on his overbearing mother and the object of the film soon becomes Sam and Marion’s sister Lila’s search for Marion. This is not only interesting because it is a unique take on the murder mystery theme, but also because the primary character winds up having such little screen time in the grand scheme of things. Also, this concept had the potential of being disastrous as it was in “2001: A Space Odyssey” by not having a well-defined protagonist/antagonist struggle, but somehow it still pulls it off.
As the mystery unravels “Psycho” begins to break all sorts of new ground in terms of addressing things in film. Norman suffers from multiple personality disorder and in fact “becomes” his mother, as his real mother has been dead for years- so all the arguing they do, yeah, that’s him fighting with himself essentially. Also, when he takes on the personality of his mother, he dresses accordingly, which isn’t innovative in-and-of-itself for films of that time, I can recall seeing Buster Keaton and Curly Howard doing it prior to 1960, as well as the entire movie “Glen or Glenda?” being focused on it. However in Norman Bates’ case it isn’t for comedic or demeaning purposes, instead it is a sincere exploration of a mental disorder; thus it is handled sensitively all things considered. Also, despite the fact that he has murdered Marion, in the end Norman Bates winds up being a fairly empathetic villain given the fact that he truly has no control over his state; which coincidentally is what makes him such a frightening villain at the same time. I think my favorite aspect of Anthony Perkins’ performance is something that may not even be noticeable, but really helps develop his character is his stammering and mumbling. It is refreshing to hear a character on screen talk like a real person rather than in an unbelievably crisp theatrical dialect.
The title “Psycho” in itself is also a fascinating element of this movie. While it is easy to assume it is a cut and dry reference to Norman and his mental state, its more complicated than that. Marion clearly at least has a mental breakdown of some kind where she abandons logic and accountability by stealing a huge sum of money and planning to take it to her literally and figuratively distant boyfriend. Even Norman’s mother probably had some issues of her own to have such an eerie and gripping post-mortem control over her son. The “Psycho” tag can be appropriately applied to almost anyone in the picture.
“Psycho” may not be my favorite of the Hitchcock films but it is hard to deny it is the most technically sound and most terrifying. The investigation scenes are actually kind of boring and slow the pace of the movie down, and the dynamic between Sam and Lila implies a level of attraction but is never quite explored fully, but if those are the worst things I can name about this movie then I don’t really have much to complain about. If nothing else, I should sing the praises of “Psycho” simply because of how unconventional it is and because of how many (calculated) risks it takes. Even though the “excessive” sex and violence are tame by today’s standards, I would hold this movie side-by-side against any modern slasher flick and it would blow them out of the water.
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