Dylan Masvidal | Staff Writer
Alfred Hitchcock is not only synonymous with the thriller genre, but also with the art of filmmaking as a whole, to such an extent that his style can be classified as its own sub-genre.
Name any living creative force: M. Night Shyamalan, Seth MacFarlane, Hideo Kojima.
Have you noticed what they all have in common? They’ve been influenced in some form or fashion by the same person.
A filmmaker whose place in the pantheon of greats is put together by Bosco Chocolate Syrup and a penchant for cross-dissolves.
Such a revered catalog of classics can have its drawbacks, though, especially when its unending praise makes its way to the present.
Modern film buffs can become skeptical of what the old guard deemed timeless.
If you don’t believe me, sneak “Citizen Kane” into a movie forum and find somewhere to hide.
But even the most ruthless of contrarians can be found hooting and hollering at a “Psycho” (1960) screening.
Hitchcock always thrived on dragging a viewer’s deepest negative emotions to light, an essential tenet of crafting horror.
If you watch “Psycho” on Peacock, the streaming service will explain the film’s R rating through the label of “fear”.
Not heavy displays of gore or harsh language, just simply fear.
Regardless of the Hays Code at play here, panic and uneasiness are eternal feelings Hitchcock deliberately feeds off of.
His reputation as an iconoclast stems from the shameless approach to giving the people what they want.
Audiences were secretly yearning once more to jump out of their skin and Hitchcock was privy to it before those after him figured it out.
The technical wizardry on display during “Psycho” is elevated by the narrative and character performances aimed to please.
Marion Crane’s fate is sealed the moment she pulls into the Bates Motel, with the twist lying in how sudden and cleverly graphic her demise is.
We follow this determined lead, played with tangible sympathy by Janet Leigh, for the first half of the film, who ultimately can’t act on her change of heart and is stripped of her goodness.
Fitting is the moniker “Master of Suspense” bestowed upon Hitchcock, leaving countless clues before the iconic shower scene transpires.
Houses don’t typically radiate malevolence quite like the Bates residence and despite how charming Anthony Perkins’ performance as Norman is in a sick puppy kind of manner, his relationship with his mother is made clear from the get-go to be the purest form of an Oedipus complex ever put to screen.
Viewers are practically begging for Crane to see the signs before it’s too late, confirming Hitchcock’s genius.
Understanding the difference between surprise and suspense put him in a league of his own.
I can rave until the next millennium about the almost mythical shot composition and bone-chilling score “Psycho” possesses.
Seriously, the camera movement alone knocks the hamster in my brain clean off the wheel.
However, the meticulous detail in the setup is what draws me closest to this film.
Father Time has yet to catch up with this one.
To those who haven’t noticed, I’ve spent not one word discussing the second half.
Put on your spiffiest Sunday best and go see for yourself.
CLASSIC/10
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