Sunday, February 7, 2010

IHR induction #6: "Psycho" (1960, Alfred Hitchcock)

Man, oh man, what a movie "Psycho" is. Absolutely immortal, and one of the best, shining examples of pure film you will ever see put to celluloid. Every screenwriter should look at this film as a shining example of what film is all about - about misdirection, suspense, and character development. It's also the crown jewel within the compendium of Alfred Hitchcock, the man whom I consider to be the greatest film director of all time.

I assume that most people are at least vaguely familiar with the story of "Psycho" by this point; of its real-life beginnings, the novel by Robert Bloch, and the stories of crazy Ed Gein that Bloch took inspiration from. In reality, Gein only very loosely inspired the story of the tender, tragic tale of Norman Bates and his mother. Gein was not a serial killer in the strictest sense; he was really more of a ghoul, whose living victim count totalled only two, and whose primary form of deviance was graverobbing. Despite this, Gein is one of the more prolific people in the history of humanity when it comes to inspiring films. In fact, the CLOSEST depiction to him on film is the sickening Buffalo Bill in "The Silence of the Lambs," who shared his "female skin" M.O., but I digress.

But "Psycho" the motion picture is a film that every fan of movies, and not just horror movies, owe it to themselves to see. It is not only technically precise and perfectly constructed; it tells a story that is extremely easy to get wrapped up in, and features characters so alive and real that we feel as if we know them as genuine people by the time the third reel hits.

At the film's open, we are introduced to the character of Marion Crane (Janet Leigh), along with her lover, Sam Loomis (John Gavin). They wish to get married but cannot because of Loomis' alimony payments. At work, Marion's boss brings in a crony, some snide man who suggests that Marion herself might be for sale, before being assigned to drop off a huge sum of money at the bank for him. So she takes the money and heads off for California to join Sam.

These opening scenes are so effective because they're so natural. Not once, not for one second, does this feel like material that's meant to mislead us. Even more skillful is the introduction of a mysterious cop character, who seems to be following Marion, even stalking her. Every first-time viewer feels that this man is the aforementioned "Psycho" of the title. More than anything else, these opening passages make us genuinely like and care for the character of Marion Crane, even though she has just committed a grave crime.

After several close calls with the cop, Marion stops at the Bates Motel, at which point all bets are off.

As Hitchcock himself once said about this movie, "it's not the writing, or the great performance that gets people...they were excited by pure film." And "Psycho" is most definitely a masterpiece. If there is one scene alone that cements its status as one of the greatest films of all time, it is the conversation between Norman Bates and Marion Crane in the pantry. "We're all in a private trap," Norman says to Marion, as the camera is masterfully placed at a low angle to cast an eerie shadow on Norman's stuffed birds, swooping in for the kill on the two characters. "Trapped in them, and none of us can ever get out. We scratch and claw, but only at ourselves, only at each other, and for all of it, we never budge an inch." To this date, this is may be my favorite piece of dialogue in any movie.

Of course, from here, the movie takes a drastic and very unexpected plot twist in the form of the movie's infamous shower scene. Yes, it is tame by today's standards (even the "blood", as it is, is chocolate sauce; hey, it was black and white), but the shower murder that caused an entire generation to fear bathing carries a stirring emotional weight. We had grown to genuinely care about Marion's plight, and just like that, she's gone. For those who want some comparison of how this scene would play out today, imagine a standard-issue horror thriller that sees a few weeks in multiplexes today. Your main character, played by someone along the stature of, say, Julia Roberts, is suddenly and savagely murdered halfway through, leaving the character's younger sister, perhaps played by someone like Toni Colette, to wrap up the plot. Would ANY of the clowns who make horror films these days be daring enough to attempt anything of that nature?

From here, the movie is effective melodrama, as Sam, along with Marion's younger sister, piece together the mystery of the Bates Motel and Marion's disappearance. But what's truly great about the last third of "Psycho" is the switch that the movie has played on us. Marion has been taken away from us; Norman, in essence, is our new protagonist. He is easily the most likable and charismatic character in the movie, and as we don't know the secret of Norman's mother just yet, he is now the de facto hero of the film.

This is a credit to the outstanding performance by Anthony Perkins as Norman, and the casting by director Hitchcock. In the novel upon which this film is based, Norman is older, fatter, and very dislikable. Hitchcock made the tough choice to cast Perkins, a young, handsome, likable actor. Nonetheless, the move was a brilliant one that paid big dividends; in the scenes when Norman first meets Marion, we immediately like the nice young man behind the hotel desk, willing to go so out of his way to make life a little easier for the woman that fate has delivered to his quaint little hotel. And after the shower scene, as Norman cleans up after mother's crime, we come to the startling realization that we are actually ROOTING for Norman to conceal the heinous crime, gasping with each close call and setback along the way.

"Psycho" is much more than just one of the best horror movies of all time. It is one of the greatest films of all time, wonderfully acted and directed, with an awesome score, and featuring a captivating tale of crimes of passion and love...and the story of a man's love for his mother...

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