An image from the film this blog is named after.

An image from the film this blog is named after.

Tuesday, May 12, 2020

BFI Top 50: Psycho, Released in 1960, Directed by Alfred Hitchcock


What I know before going in
This will be my third time watching the film. It is one of my favorites.

Immediate Reaction
I think the most striking, and horrifying, aspect of Psycho is the fact that no one in the film realizes they are in a horror movie. The movie doesn’t even really reveal itself to be a horror film until the infamous shower scene. Up until that point, the film could easily pass as another entry in the crime or noir genre. Even after the shower scene, the full madness of Norman Bates isn’t apparent until the very end. The characters who become involved with Marion’s flight don’t know the dark secret lurking within the Bates Motel. Arbogast assumes he is just dealing with a standard robbery case. When Sam Loomis and Lila Crane head to the motel after becoming suspicious of Arbogast’s absence, they assume that Bates simply wanted the money Marion stole to open another motel somewhere else. Again, the fact that all parties are wrong, and the reality is so much more disturbing, is Psycho’s masterstroke.

I recently watched The Silence of the Lambs, and a big theme of that movie is how even without the presence of Hannibal the Cannibal and Buffalo Bill, the world is an awful place for women and is primarily dominated by men. That theme is quickly established when Clarice walks into the FBI headquarters and is immediately surrounded completely by men who are a good foot taller than her. I think Psycho explores a similar theme, just in subtler way. When Marion interacts with her client, the camera is positioned in such a way to make him seem totally dominate over Marion. A similar effect is employed when she is stopped by the Police Officer, and later when she enters Norman’s parlor and is surrounded by dead birds. In addition, there is a shot where standing imposingly above Lila’s heads, if you squint your eyes, it would look like several falcons are attacking her. Norman also uses a peep hole to look at her. He literally frames her when she is at her must vulnerable (right after she has decided to return the money and is undressing). I would like to think that this is a subtle critique of the way women are objectified on film, further evidenced by the camera’s slow zoom in and peak-through on Marion and Sam’s lunchtime tryst.

Like the best Noir films, Psycho also makes excellent use of shadow. There is of course the shower scene, where Marion’s appears almost totally in shadow, making him seem like some otherworldly phantom. Also, during the scene where Arbogast leaves the motel and when Sam Loomis goes there alone, Norman’s face is shadowed to make him look most sinister. The ending seems almost playful in its use of light and shadow. Lila hits a single lightbulb with her hand when she discover Norma’s corpse, the swinging bulb makes Norman’s attack even more creepy.

Further Thoughts
When someone is asked “If you had access to a time machine, what event would you go back and witness?” common answers are the Kennedy assassination, the writing of the Declaration of Independence, or some other important historical event. My answer would be “the premiere of Psycho.” At this point, we are pretty much born into this world knowing the twist of Psycho. I would give anything to go back and time and just observe people freaking out while watching the film. Not only did Psycho break all narrative conventions by killing Marion off halfway through the film, but if flew in the face of existing taboos regarding sex and violence. I am actually still a little shocked at the beginning of Psycho, due to its sexual explicitness and my association of black and white with older films. Both the leads are half-naked, and rolling around in a bed, so there is no way they didn’t just finish having sex, and to further turn the screw on conservatives, Hitchcock makes sure you know that not only are the pair not married, but Sam is divorced.

Of course, I have to talk about the shower sequence, but I’ll do my best to provide a new twist. If you really analyze it the sequence, there really isn’t anything shocking about it. You never actually see the knife enter Marion’s body. However, the shot is edited in such a staccato, impressionistic way that your mind naturally fills in whatever shots would be missing. It starts off by the killer pulling the curtain back, Marion screaming, and then a close-up of her mouth. Next, the sequence moves into the same basic repetition. We get a shot of the killer pulling back the knife to strike Marion, and then shot of her reaction to each stab. The camera basically goes from the knife to Marion’s body, which seems like a pretty logical way to shoot such a scene. However, few films seem to go for that effect. The only recent film I can think is The Grandmaster, which uses a similar technique to follow body parts as they rear back and then hit other people or objects. The key to the shower scene is its rapid nature and Bernard Hermann’s score. Both combine to create a disorienting effect, mirroring the death throes that Marion is going through.

Of course, the stabbing is followed by one of the greatest edits in film history, from the slow pan-in of Marion’s blood going down the bathtub drain to the swirling pan-out of her pupil as her life leaves her body.

I’ll just briefly copy a quote from Roger Ebert’s review, which I think better gets at what I was describing about no one the film knowing what is going on.

The death of the heroine is followed by Norman's meticulous mopping-up of the death scene. Hitchcock is insidiously substituting protagonists. Marion is dead, but now (not consciously but in a deeper place) we identify with Norman--not because we could stab someone, but because, if we did, we would be consumed by fear and guilt, as he is. The sequence ends with the masterful shot of Bates pushing Marion's car (containing her body and the cash) into a swamp. The car sinks, then pauses. Norman watches intently. The car finally disappears under the surface.
Analyzing our feelings, we realize we wanted that car to sink, as much as Norman did. Before Sam Loomis reappears, teamed up with Marion's sister Lila (Vera Miles) to search for her, "Psycho" already has a new protagonist: Norman Bates. This is one of the most audacious substitutions in Hitchcock's long practice of leading and manipulating us.

For a few brief moments, Hitchcock forces us to not only become complicit in a killer’s murderous spree, but worry about him being caught as well.

Why is the film on the list?
Psycho managed to break narrative and societal taboos will delivering some of the most purely enthralling sequences in cinema history.

No comments:

Post a Comment