Psycho changed everything

Rating: 10/10 (28 March 2014)

You would have to say that Psycho was the start of something new. Alfred Hitchcock was at the height of his powers before he made it and it was only because of his standing that it was made at all. The studio was appalled by the idea of the film and released it very grudgingly and with the minimal of assistance. Hitchcock had to use much of his own personal wealth to fund it and released it in black and white, with a far lower budget than he was used to. Despite all this, when Psycho was released it changed everything.
Released in 1960, it heralded the arrival of the 60's in more ways than simply date. It's extremely daring content was an early marker that indicated the coming changes in cinema. Sometimes people think that Hollywood truly changed in the late 60's with the release of Bonnie and Clyde. While it's impossible to argue against that film's influence, it can easily be argued that Psycho was even more ground-breaking and a full seven years older. Taking into account the cinema landscape of the time it was released, it's quite a wild uncompromising concoction that Hitchcock brought to the screen.
There are several boundaries it pushed against. It opens with a scene of an unmarried couple – the woman partially undressed - in a hotel room just after sex. This was taboo at the time. Furthermore, the girl is introduced as the nominal heroine, even having her character's name displayed on the film poster. Yet she is brutally murdered less than half-way in. The disorientating nature of this is almost as shocking as the act of violence itself. Cinema audiences are just not prepared for a main character being disposed of like this. It throws us, confuses us and makes us realise we have no idea what is going to happen next. It's an utterly audacious move to do this and, incredibly, one that really has hardly been used since in the intervening fifty plus years. Hollywood still seems reticent in killing off its A-Listers in this way but Hitchcock was unafraid in subverting this 'rule' and the impact of Psycho is profoundly more effective as a result. Then there is the violence. The expertly filmed shower scene remains one of the ultimate shock moments in cinema and with some justification. For its time, it's incredibly brutal and it's here that Psycho pushed boundaries in the most direct and obvious way. In fact, Hitchcock partially decided on black and white, as he knew this scene would never get past the censors in colour. Now people died with their eyes open. Marion Crane stares at us dead on in a way that allows us little respite. And finally, there is the open depiction of sexually deviant behaviour. Normal Bates disturbing secret life is very psychologically dark, yet he is presented quite sympathetically. The direct presentation of these dark impulses was again quite unfamiliar to audiences of the time.
The story has Marion Crane (Janet Leigh), a secretary from Phoenix, Arizona, stealing $40,000 from her employer's client. After a couple of days on the run she ends up at a motel run by a nervous young man called Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins). The structure of the narrative initially suggests that this will be a crime story of a woman on the run with a bag of money. But we have been cleverly misdirected and the seemingly standard thriller suddenly and jarringly changes into something altogether more sinister. Really, Psycho was a watershed movie in that it brought the horror genre into a recognisably real world. Beforehand, the genre always had the distance of either the supernatural or science fiction. Psycho stripped away this protective layer and in doing so made the horror more real and more terrifying. Amazingly, it has retained the palpable tension even today. This has ensured that it still feels quite modern and hasn't really aged at all. But it would be misguided to not acknowledge the black humour that is interspersed throughout and that only becomes apparent on re-watches. This is a result of a clever script but also excellent performances. The real stand-out dramatic scene being the late night supper between Crane and Bates, where there is such an uneasy and strange chemistry. Leigh and Perkins make this work so well; the latter is particularly brilliant in this film. So good it would unfortunately type-cast him forever.
There are other collaborators too who need to be acknowledged too. Firstly, there is Saul Bass who is the legendary credit sequence guy. His work here is pretty simple and straightforward but striking nevertheless. And then there is, of course, Bernard Herrman whose score is one of the greatest in cinema history. Everyone knows the famous screeching that accompanies the murders – rightfully so because it's genius – but the melodic main theme is quite beautiful and truly evocative. But in the final analysis the bulk of the praise has to go to Alfred Hitchcock, as this incredibly provocative work of cinema art would never have been made without him and I think it stands as his greatest achievement.