A Key Scene in Depth

Rating: Null/10 (2 September 2013)

In sixty years of movie watching there's one extended scene in Psycho that I count as being of unsurpassed brilliance. That's the about 7-minute scene in Norman's parlor where Marion has a bite of dinner shortly after arriving at the motel. To get an idea of its impact and significance, the setting is important. The parlor is dimly lit, casting shadows appropriate to the Gothic plot. Norman sits on one side, a stuffed raptor on the adjacent wall. It's shrewdly placed since the menacing wing-spread can background Norman when Hitch so chooses. Marion sits on the opposite side in a more conventionally lit setting, bespeaking her more conventional nature. Significantly, Hitch cross-cuts between them the entire time, never showing them in the same frame, thus emphasizing Norman's uniqueness and dominating part of the conversation.
Now Norman is clearly unsure how to talk to the attractive woman alone with him in this, a private room. So he launches into a safe topic for him, but completely inappropriate to the light meal Marion is eating, namely his hobby, taxidermy. That is, how he likes to stuff birds but not the gore that comes with beasts. This tells us the important point that Norman is inexperienced socially, an aspect that fits in as the various parts of his nature come together over the movie's time-line. Throughout the tete-a-tete, Marion maintains a cautious but polite reserve as Hitch crosscuts between them. Her role here is mainly to draw the boyish stranger out.
From taxidermy the dialog takes a more intimate turn. What emerges from the next topic, namely how to fill one's time, is that Norman is uncomfortable with his life with Mom. At the same time, however, he tries to casually laugh it off, one of his main defense mechanisms. Marion suggests that perhaps he should leave, that is, go away. But Norman senses something. He may be confused about a lot of things, but he's intuitive when he interjects that Marion must be running away from something, as indeed she is.
At this point the conversation takes on a momentum that is revealing more and more about Norman's inner life. That's apparent when he starts talking ominously about private traps from which no one can escape—how we "scratch and claw" (like a bird) but never to any avail. To Marion, this is a challenge to escape the embezzlement trap she's gotten herself into. To Norman, it's a disclosure of how he views his own life, and an excuse for not doing anything about it as though in his madness he could.
At this point, Marion senses Norman's problem lies with his mother and suggests that he get away from the motel and from her. Once the topic turns to Mother, Hitch frames Norman in the foreground with the ominous stuffed bird (Mother) looming over him. Now we know Norman is indeed trapped and that Marion is venturing into dangerous territory. She accelerates the danger by suggesting that he should put Mom away, like "in an institution or something". This triggers a sudden, hostile response as Norman associates strangers and unfamiliar surroundings with thoughts of death, as indeed it would be for him. But true to his defense mechanisms, he does an abrupt 180 and laughs off the suggestion with the supreme irony that whatever her problems, at least Mom's "harmless". Then in another note of supreme irony, he trivializes her problem by saying that anyway we all go "a little mad sometimes". This of course would include Marion by inference, who now has a sense of her own embezzlement predicament and breaks off the conversation by resolving to return to Phoenix and face the music. At the same time, Norman reverts to his usual affable façade. And the scene ends. But unbeknownst to Marion, she may have resolved one trap, but has now entered a far more deadly one.
This is the central scene of the film. It's not the most dramatic, but it is the one where we gain important insight into Norman's mental processes. Now as good as the writing and direction are, it's really Tony Perkins's exquisite performance that makes the seven minutes absolutely spellbinding. Watch how quickly and persuasively he changes expression and mood. Because of his expertise, we know that something's seriously wrong with Norman, but can't be sure exactly what, while it takes the rest of the movie to find out. One moment, he's all boyish charm, the next he's glaring darkly with inner fire.
Of course, Janet Leigh's superb performance as Marion should not be overlooked. In this key scene, her task is to politely draw out Norman's feelings, an essentially secondary role, but demanding in its own way. Note how delicately she balances her bites of food with proper emotional composure as this strange man reveals more of himself to her. Without doubt, this was an actress with more than just a pretty face.
To me, Perkins' eccentric performance is clearly Oscar worthy, ditto the picture itself, along with Hitch's masterful direction. But industry prejudices against horror movies was just too strong then and perhaps now. Of course, it didn't help for Oscar purposes that the production was also low-budget b&w. But I doubt the audience impact would have been nearly as great had that unforgettable package been upscaled in any fashion. At the same time, a big part of the classic flick, in my book, at least, rests with that 7-minutes of emerging horror, so brilliantly understated.