Right from Saul Bass’s brilliant opening title sequence, Hitchcock’s masterpiece (fueled by Bernard Herrman’s chilling orchestral soundtrack) never loses a beat. Little things make it as good as it is. For instance, the first half of the film focuses on Janet Leigh, making you think the picture is about her. Her character (Marion Crane) steals $40,000 from a Texas tycoon and you just know she’s not getting away with it. Marion’s undergarments and purse are both white when we’re first introduced to her, and they quickly turn to black in the next scene when she’s about to leave town with the stolen loot. If you knew absolutely nothing about Psycho going into it, you would think Marion’s moral struggle was the main focal point; that is until Norman (dressed as his long-deceased mother) repeatedly slashes her with a butcher knife whilst she showers. Going back to the scene where he and Marion are talking in the parlor room, you can see the reveal coming a mile away: he’s a taxidermist by obsession (serial killers have a tendency to want to play with dead animals), he speaks of his mother being his best friend (Oedipus), the inner workings of a mental institution, and his lonely worldview. He says he was born into his “trap” and his outlook in moving on is pretty bleak. Of course, we later find out that it was him all along, that his mother’s been dead for years and he’s trapped in playing the role of both himself and Mrs. Bates. Again, it’s the little things that make a great film and Psycho is certainly no exception. Hitchcock was a true artist in getting under his audience’s skin, whether it was visually by superimposing Mrs. Bates’ skeleton face over her son’s at the end of the film or musically with the now-famous shower scene shrieks from Bernard Herrman. The next time you watch it, realize that you are under the spell of the director.
Friday, July 2, 2010
CLASSICS: Psycho (1960)
Right from Saul Bass’s brilliant opening title sequence, Hitchcock’s masterpiece (fueled by Bernard Herrman’s chilling orchestral soundtrack) never loses a beat. Little things make it as good as it is. For instance, the first half of the film focuses on Janet Leigh, making you think the picture is about her. Her character (Marion Crane) steals $40,000 from a Texas tycoon and you just know she’s not getting away with it. Marion’s undergarments and purse are both white when we’re first introduced to her, and they quickly turn to black in the next scene when she’s about to leave town with the stolen loot. If you knew absolutely nothing about Psycho going into it, you would think Marion’s moral struggle was the main focal point; that is until Norman (dressed as his long-deceased mother) repeatedly slashes her with a butcher knife whilst she showers. Going back to the scene where he and Marion are talking in the parlor room, you can see the reveal coming a mile away: he’s a taxidermist by obsession (serial killers have a tendency to want to play with dead animals), he speaks of his mother being his best friend (Oedipus), the inner workings of a mental institution, and his lonely worldview. He says he was born into his “trap” and his outlook in moving on is pretty bleak. Of course, we later find out that it was him all along, that his mother’s been dead for years and he’s trapped in playing the role of both himself and Mrs. Bates. Again, it’s the little things that make a great film and Psycho is certainly no exception. Hitchcock was a true artist in getting under his audience’s skin, whether it was visually by superimposing Mrs. Bates’ skeleton face over her son’s at the end of the film or musically with the now-famous shower scene shrieks from Bernard Herrman. The next time you watch it, realize that you are under the spell of the director.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment