Psycho (1960)

What else can be said about a classic like Psycho? Absolutely nothing, I imagine, but I think I'll give it a shot anyway. Out of all of Alfred Hitchcock’s legendary output, Psycho had the biggest impact on our cultural memory and on American film itself. Indeed, Psycho is so iconic that the biggest problem for a reviewer isn’t trying to find something worth saying about it, but the realization that, unless you had an unusually secluded childhood (like, ironically, Meg Tilly, who co-starred in Psycho II), it's impossible to approach this film fresh. Everyone knows the shower scene, everyone knows the truth about Norman’s Mother, and everyone knows that Norman turns out to be the killer in the end. In other words, Psycho is a classic example of a film whose artistic goals have been spoiled by its own success.

Of course, there is much more to Psycho than its twists and turns. It’s a sophisticated, subtle film and while it may not be the best Hitchcock film under any standard, it is far superior to many of its direct imitators (except maybe William Castle’s Homicide and quite a few of its bastard grandchildren, the giallo movies of Italy, but I’m getting off-track here). Anyway, Psycho is that kind of horror film, ambitious yet low-key, which is rare in any era. If the film had been made by most others, there wouldn't be so much focus on the personality and the motivations of our victim, Marion. While the question of why she is so desperate to flee with cash entrusted to her by her employer mostly goes unanswered - or at least goes without a direct answer - the entire first act of the film is hers and her murder in a shower at a little, out-of-the-way motel called The Bates Motel is both shocking and savage, even with the outcome in mind, rather than seeming like a requisite plot event.

Unfortunately, not nearly half the attention that Marion gets is given to our protagonists, Marion's sister Lila Crane and her boyfriend Sam Loomis, who are driven by little more than their desire to find the truth behind Marion. Fortunately, the real center of this film is Norman Bates, played by Anthony Perkins. It was the role that would define his career - and rightfully so. Seeing the nervous, shy, and socially crippled Bates try to make at least a friendly impression on Marion can still win sympathy from the audience (even though, you know exactly what Norman really means when he talks about his dear, insane mother). His anger and frustration at 'mother' too is earnestly depicted, giving the film a whole new subtext to those of us who know the truth. It's worth pointing out that, in real life, Anthony Perkins suffered a domineering mother who controlled his finances until her death, so it's easy to see that he must have really thrown himself into the role. The score to Psycho is simply one of the best scores ever made and has still, at least for me, not been watered down by familiarity.

The ending where the psychiatrist explains all is much ballyhooed as unnecessary (and, fairly enough, a tad ridiculous; if you had just found out your sister was butchered, would you want to hear a summary of her killer's past?), but since it was a time when psychotic killers were not yet all that explored in film and TV, we can perhaps forgive Hitchcock for the clumsy exposition we get on Norman Bates' 'condition'. But even after that we get probably one of the best closing scenes ever filmed, as we get to spend one last minute with Mrs. Bates in Norman's head...

Like I said, it's hard to say anything new about Psycho and, frankly, I didn't really try. For better or worse, we owe the shape of the modern cinematic landscape to it, just as much if not more as we do to Star Wars, Jaws, or Halloween. Luckily, there's much more to this film than just historical interest.