"Well, a son is a poor substitute for a lover."
Have to bump this one up to 5 stars. After this rewatch, as part of my ongoing Hitchcock marathon, I can now confidently say that Psycho is my favorite film of the master and that it sits firmly in my top 20 films of all time. The number of memorable quotes, indelible images and iconic scenes is quite frankly insane (wink, wink), and yet, Psycho amounts to more than the sum of its exquisite parts.
There really is no other film like it, from the unique way it is structured, to its visual inventiveness, and the complex psychology of it. Indeed, Psycho's bold and successful experimentation when it comes to both the arts of storytelling and filmmaking must be applauded. However, this is not just an "important" film, merely a piece of academia to be studied by film scholars. The reason these creative visual techniques and the revolutionary story structure are still studied after all these years is, after all, because THEY WORK. So even if you don't care about actively analyzing Hitchcock's technical and narrative innovations, Psycho will still take you on a cinematic joyride, as it is just an utterly engrossing and immensely entertaining film.
The synopsis of the film: Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) embezzles 40k from a rich client at the bank where she works and subsequently goes on the run with it. This is, of course, the greatest red herring in the history of cinema. Everything that's going on with the cop following her and the used car salesman, then the storm hitting, checking in at the Bates Motel and Marion's drawn-out conversation with Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins), which then seems to make her change her mind. Through this meticulous, slow build-up, Hitchcock demands our full investment in Marion's predicament, but of course, none of that matters anymore after THE SCENE.
The shower scene in Psycho. Probably one of the most well-known (and most referenced) scenes in film history, and I got nothing to add. The screeching violins and the quick editing, conspiring to make every 'film cut' feel like a 'knife cut', it's just so very, very good. I can't imagine what it must have been like to see this in theaters in 1960 (which goes for the whole film really).
The subsequent scene, while not as iconic and formally inventive, is just as effective in conveying some crucial story and character elements. As we see Norman methodically cleaning up the mess, his mind racing while still acting calm and collected, we realize he's been here before. In a minutes-long wordless sequence, we get to see every painstaking detail of the cover-up, up until the dissolution of the car in the swamp (another great visual moment), and it all feels oddly satisfying. On an unrelated note, I feel like Vince Gilligan must have watched that scene A LOT, because it reminded me of those extended wordless set pieces he used to create in Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul, where we just watch men at work, usually executing some complicated scheme, the intricate details of which are only slowly revealed to us.
Back to Psycho. It's as if another film begins during that clean-up scene, as the story definitively shifts from Marion Crane to the film's real protagonist, Norman Bates. We realize now that we have been taken for a ride by that sly Mr. Hitchcock with the whole money theft storyline, as the true crux of the film slowly comes into focus: what is going on with Norman Bates? What about that domineering mother? What other unspeakable events have taken place in that motel and in that large gothic house towering over it? The answers are more horrifying than we could have imagined, revealed (partly) during the masterful climactic sequence, through some memorably ghoulish imagery.
My only small gripe with this film upon first viewing was the part right after that, with the psychiatrist explaining everything we just saw at a rapid-fire pace, as if he was tasked with wrapping up the film in a couple of minutes. This time around, the exposition dump didn't even bother me, because A) although it still feels like a somewhat clunky bit of storytelling, I also feel the explanation is necessary to fully unpack the film's final twist and its inherent complex psychology and B) I knew what was still coming: one final high note to end the film on. And sure enough, we get that deranged voice-over as the camera slowly zooms in on Norman's/Mother's face. One final lurid image to be imprinted on the viewer's mind, with Norman's creepy face and smile superimposed on Mother's skull.
Anthony Perkins' portrayal of Norman Bates is, of course, another key to the success of this film. I truly believe he gives one of the great performances of all time here. He imbues what could have been a stereotypical 'horror movie villain' with creepiness, charm, vulnerability, intelligence, loneliness and desire, all at once.
Obviously, there is so much to unpack psychologically with this film, it makes your head hurt. Once Norman Bates' true nature is revealed, the murder retro-actively becomes an incredibly layered act: on a surface level, it is of course Norman killing Marion, with the act of murder possibly being a metaphor for rape (Norman is clearly shown to be attracted to Marion physically). But as explained by the psychiatrist, it is in fact Mother taking over, triggered by Norman's arousal and (sexual) desire, and it is really her who kills Marion. Finally, I felt as if it was also Norman killing Mother (again), represented by Marion, as she is also having an affair with a married man (surely this is no coincidence). I won't dive into any more of the complex psychology at play with Norman Bates, as this character is already one of the most studied subjects in 'Psychoanalysis' (pun very much intended).
One could say that Psycho invented 'elevated horror' before horror itself even existed as a real genre. In addition to having a complex and layered main character, the film boasts a stunning cinematography and maintains a tense atmosphere throughout, while relying on prolific visual techniques to evoke visceral reactions from the audience. Today, that's basically what we would refer to as 'elevated horror'.
In conclusion, Psycho is one of my favorite films and a landmark in the history of cinema. If Hitchcock's radical formal inventiveness alone isn't enough to ensure it of that status, consider that Psycho remains one of the most daringly creative films of the 20th century on a narrative level as well, in the way it so boldly broke the established conventions around story structure and incorporated complex psychology into a 'simple horror story'. Not to mention its 'killer twist'. Finally, add to that Bernard Herrmann's iconic score (I can't believe I almost neglected to mention the film's legendary music in this already overlong review!) and an all-time great 'horror villain' (albeit an unconventional one) performance by Anthony Perkins and you have, with Psycho, not only one of the most influential films of all time, but also a film that still holds up today as one of the best ever made.
Have to bump this one up to 5 stars. After this rewatch, as part of my ongoing Hitchcock marathon, I can now confidently say that Psycho is my favorite film of the master and that it sits firmly in my top 20 films of all time. The number of memorable quotes, indelible images and iconic scenes is quite frankly insane (wink, wink), and yet, Psycho amounts to more than the sum of its exquisite parts.
There really is no other film like it, from the unique way it is structured, to its visual inventiveness, and the complex psychology of it. Indeed, Psycho's bold and successful experimentation when it comes to both the arts of storytelling and filmmaking must be applauded. However, this is not just an "important" film, merely a piece of academia to be studied by film scholars. The reason these creative visual techniques and the revolutionary story structure are still studied after all these years is, after all, because THEY WORK. So even if you don't care about actively analyzing Hitchcock's technical and narrative innovations, Psycho will still take you on a cinematic joyride, as it is just an utterly engrossing and immensely entertaining film.
The synopsis of the film: Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) embezzles 40k from a rich client at the bank where she works and subsequently goes on the run with it. This is, of course, the greatest red herring in the history of cinema. Everything that's going on with the cop following her and the used car salesman, then the storm hitting, checking in at the Bates Motel and Marion's drawn-out conversation with Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins), which then seems to make her change her mind. Through this meticulous, slow build-up, Hitchcock demands our full investment in Marion's predicament, but of course, none of that matters anymore after THE SCENE.
The shower scene in Psycho. Probably one of the most well-known (and most referenced) scenes in film history, and I got nothing to add. The screeching violins and the quick editing, conspiring to make every 'film cut' feel like a 'knife cut', it's just so very, very good. I can't imagine what it must have been like to see this in theaters in 1960 (which goes for the whole film really).
The subsequent scene, while not as iconic and formally inventive, is just as effective in conveying some crucial story and character elements. As we see Norman methodically cleaning up the mess, his mind racing while still acting calm and collected, we realize he's been here before. In a minutes-long wordless sequence, we get to see every painstaking detail of the cover-up, up until the dissolution of the car in the swamp (another great visual moment), and it all feels oddly satisfying. On an unrelated note, I feel like Vince Gilligan must have watched that scene A LOT, because it reminded me of those extended wordless set pieces he used to create in Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul, where we just watch men at work, usually executing some complicated scheme, the intricate details of which are only slowly revealed to us.
Back to Psycho. It's as if another film begins during that clean-up scene, as the story definitively shifts from Marion Crane to the film's real protagonist, Norman Bates. We realize now that we have been taken for a ride by that sly Mr. Hitchcock with the whole money theft storyline, as the true crux of the film slowly comes into focus: what is going on with Norman Bates? What about that domineering mother? What other unspeakable events have taken place in that motel and in that large gothic house towering over it? The answers are more horrifying than we could have imagined, revealed (partly) during the masterful climactic sequence, through some memorably ghoulish imagery.
My only small gripe with this film upon first viewing was the part right after that, with the psychiatrist explaining everything we just saw at a rapid-fire pace, as if he was tasked with wrapping up the film in a couple of minutes. This time around, the exposition dump didn't even bother me, because A) although it still feels like a somewhat clunky bit of storytelling, I also feel the explanation is necessary to fully unpack the film's final twist and its inherent complex psychology and B) I knew what was still coming: one final high note to end the film on. And sure enough, we get that deranged voice-over as the camera slowly zooms in on Norman's/Mother's face. One final lurid image to be imprinted on the viewer's mind, with Norman's creepy face and smile superimposed on Mother's skull.
Anthony Perkins' portrayal of Norman Bates is, of course, another key to the success of this film. I truly believe he gives one of the great performances of all time here. He imbues what could have been a stereotypical 'horror movie villain' with creepiness, charm, vulnerability, intelligence, loneliness and desire, all at once.
Obviously, there is so much to unpack psychologically with this film, it makes your head hurt. Once Norman Bates' true nature is revealed, the murder retro-actively becomes an incredibly layered act: on a surface level, it is of course Norman killing Marion, with the act of murder possibly being a metaphor for rape (Norman is clearly shown to be attracted to Marion physically). But as explained by the psychiatrist, it is in fact Mother taking over, triggered by Norman's arousal and (sexual) desire, and it is really her who kills Marion. Finally, I felt as if it was also Norman killing Mother (again), represented by Marion, as she is also having an affair with a married man (surely this is no coincidence). I won't dive into any more of the complex psychology at play with Norman Bates, as this character is already one of the most studied subjects in 'Psychoanalysis' (pun very much intended).
One could say that Psycho invented 'elevated horror' before horror itself even existed as a real genre. In addition to having a complex and layered main character, the film boasts a stunning cinematography and maintains a tense atmosphere throughout, while relying on prolific visual techniques to evoke visceral reactions from the audience. Today, that's basically what we would refer to as 'elevated horror'.
In conclusion, Psycho is one of my favorite films and a landmark in the history of cinema. If Hitchcock's radical formal inventiveness alone isn't enough to ensure it of that status, consider that Psycho remains one of the most daringly creative films of the 20th century on a narrative level as well, in the way it so boldly broke the established conventions around story structure and incorporated complex psychology into a 'simple horror story'. Not to mention its 'killer twist'. Finally, add to that Bernard Herrmann's iconic score (I can't believe I almost neglected to mention the film's legendary music in this already overlong review!) and an all-time great 'horror villain' (albeit an unconventional one) performance by Anthony Perkins and you have, with Psycho, not only one of the most influential films of all time, but also a film that still holds up today as one of the best ever made.