It should probably come as no surprise that there are many things that make Psycho a classic. For me, however, they all boil down to two things that Hitchcock beautifully intertwines: Characterization and suspense.
When we first meet Marion, played by Janet Leigh, she seems on the level. We see that she’s in the middle of a steamy relationship and she’s working as a secretary for some total chauvinists, but she seems otherwise unremarkable. But then Marion runs away with $40 thousand in stolen cash and it becomes apparent just how little we really know about her. Where is she going? Why did she take the money? Why is she acting so suspicious? Is she using an alias just to check into a hotel or has she been using an alias the whole time?
Marion is a very opaque character, which leads the audience to wonder what she’s thinking and what she’ll do. This characterization creates the tremendous amount of suspense that powers the first act. She has quite a few mysteries, and most of them die with her in that iconic shower scene. From that point on, the movie shifts its focus to the other characters as they try to solve the riddle of Marion’s intentions and whereabouts, in addition to the horrible enigma that is Norman Bates.
Make no mistake, folks: This is Norman Bates’ movie. He’s the psycho of the title, for heaven’s sake. The vast majority of this film is about what Norman is, how he got to be that way, what he does and how he goes about it. In many ways, this film is a meditation on criminal insanity, the damage it can cause and our continuing need to understand it — futile as the attempt may be.
Norman is another example of how this movie creates suspense through characterization, and a lot of that comes from the superlative performance from Anthony Perkins. His performance as a psycho is the epitome of subtlety, with several peculiar tics hiding under a perfectly mild-mannered facade. Sometimes Bates is harmless and sometimes he seems to show a controlled anger, but it’s always obvious that we’re dealing with a man who’s suffered from a life in solitude. The extent of that suffering and how dangerous it’s made him is anyone’s guess, up until the end.
(Side note: In the much-maligned 1998 remake, the Norman Bates role was played by Vince Vaughn. I can’t begin to imagine the parallel universe in which that would seem like a remotely good idea.)
Chances are good that you already know the twist at the end and I know that there’s a statute of limitations on that sort of thing, but I still won’t discuss it here. This movie really does work at its best with no prior knowledge of the ending. Still, I’ll say that the ending was shocking and Hitchcock did a fantastic job of setting it up. Even in this day and age — when M. Night Shyamalan made twist endings all the rage — precious few movies have done it as well as Psycho did.
The visuals in this movie are exquisite. I was particularly fond of how the camera moved, what it chose to highlight and when. In fact, the camera followed certain people and objects in such a way that I felt like Hitchcock was narrating the film through his camera. There was one shot in particular in which I swear I could hear him say “Marion lay dead on the bathroom floor… while the money still lay concealed and untouched on the nightstand,” or something along those lines.
Having said that, I’m not sure that the murder scenes have aged all that well. I know that Hitchcock was working with extreme restrictions on how much gore and nudity he could show and there’s no denying that Hitchcock did a great job with what he was given. Still, the murders in this movie simply don’t pass muster in a film industry long since saturated with latex and red corn syrup. Even so, that last pullback shot of dead Marion was undeniably as beautiful as it was haunting.
Last but not least, I need to mention the legendary score by Bernard Herrmann. Sure, everybody knows the famous “Eek! Eek! Eek! Eek!” violin sting, but the rest of the score is every bit as powerful. Hell, the score is powerful even when there’s no music, as the lack of it does wonders for the movie’s many scenes of tension. I recently heard of a Psycho screening that was done with a live orchestra. Now, I can’t wait to attend such a screening personally.
The 50th anniversary of Psycho was just last August, so this is a perfect time to (re-)acquaint yourself with this superb movie that rightfully redefined suspense in movies. I was lucky enough to see this on a big screen at Living Room Theaters — one of my favorite places in Portland — and there may be other big-screen anniversary showings around the country. In any case, this movie demands to be viewed on a screen of any size and by any means of your choice.