Psycho

PSYCHO

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USA, 1960

Director: Alfred Hitchcock

Production: Universal Pictures; black and white, 35mm; running time: 109 minutes. Released June 1960, originally by Paramount. Filmed on Universal backlots, interiors filmed at Revue Studios, locations shot on Route 99 of the Fresno-Bakersfield Highway and in the San Fernando Valley. Cost: $800,000.

Producer: Alfred Hitchcock; screenplay: Joseph Stefano, from a novel by Robert Bloch; photography: John L. Russell; editor: George Tomasini; sound engineer: Walden O. Watson and William Russell; production designers: Joseph Hurley, Robert Claworthy, and George Milo; music: Bernard Herrmann; special effects: Clarence Champagne; costume designer: Helen Colvig; pictorial consultant: Saul Bass.

Cast: Anthony Perkins (Norman Bates ); Janet Leigh (Marion Crane ); Vera Miles (Lila Crane ); John Gavin (Sam Loomis ); Martin Balsam (Milton Arbogast ); John McIntyre (Sheriff Chambers ); Lurene Tuttle (Mrs. Chambers ); Simon Oakland (Dr. Richmond ); Frank Albertson (Tom Cassidy ); Pat Hitchcock (Caroline ); Vaughn Taylor (George Lowery ); John Anderson (Car salesman ); Mort Mills (Policeman ); Sam Flint, Francis De Sales, George Eldredge (Officials ); Alfred Hitchcock (Man outside real estate office ).

Publications

Script:

Stefano, Joseph, Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho, edited by Richard J. Anobile, New York, 1974.

Books:

Bogdanovitch, Peter, The Cinema of Alfred Hitchcock, New York, 1962.

Manz, Hans-Peter, Alfred Hitchcock, Zurich, 1962.

Perry, George, The Films of Alfred Hitchcock, London, 1965.

Wood, Robin, Hitchcock's Films, London, 1965.

Truffaut, Francois, Le Cinema selon Hitchcock, Paris, 1966; as Hitchcock, New York, 1985.

Simsolo, Noël, Alfred Hitchcock, Paris, 1969.

La Valley, Albert J., editor, Focus on Hitchcock, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey, 1972.

Naremore, James, A Filmguide to Pyscho, Bloomington, Indiana, 1973.

Durgnat, Raymond, The Strange Case of Alfred Hitchcock, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1974.

Spoto, Donald, The Art of Alfred Hitchcock, New York, 1976.

Derry, Charles, Dark Dreams: A Psychological History of the Modern Horror Film, New York, 1977.

Hemmeter, Thomas M., Hitchcock the Stylist, Ann Arbor, Michigan, 1981.

Thomson, David, Overexposures: The Crisis in American Filmmaking, New York, 1981.

Bazin, André, The Cinema of Cruelty: From Buñuel to Hitchcock, New York, 1982.

Narboni, Jean, editor, Alfred Hitchcock, Paris, 1982.

Rothman, William, Hitchcock—The Murderous Gaze, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1982.

Villien, Bruno, Hitchcock, Paris, 1982.

Weis, Elisabeth, The Silent Scream: Alfred Hitchcock's Sound Track, Rutherford, New Jersey, 1982.

Wollen, Peter, Readings and Writings: Semiotic Counter-Strategies, London, 1982.

Spoto, Donald, The Life of Alfred Hitchcock: The Dark Side of Genius, New York, 1982; London, 1983.

Phillips, Gene D., Alfred Hitchcock, Boston, 1984.

Barbier, Philippe, and Jacques Moreau, Alfred Hitchcock, Paris, 1985.

Bruce, Graham, Bernard Herrmann: Film Music and Narrative, Ann Arbor, Michigan, 1985.

Douchet, Jean, Alfred Hitchcock, Paris, 1985.

Deutelbaum, Marshall, and Leland Poague, A Hitchcock Reader, Ames, Iowa, 1986.

Hogan, David J., Dark Romance: Sexuality in the Horror Film, Jefferson, North Carolina, 1986.

Humphries, Patrick, The Films of Alfred Hitchcock, Greenwich, Connecticut, 1986.

Kloppenburg, Josef, Die Dramaturgische Funktion der Musik in Filmen Alfred Hitchcocks, Munich, 1986.

Sinyard, Neil, The Films of Alfred Hitchcock, London, 1986.

Modleski, Tania, The Women Who Knew Too Much: Hitchcock and Feminist Theory, New York, 1986.

Rebello, Stephen, Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho, New York, 1990, 1998.

Leigh, Janet, Psycho: Behind the Scenes of the Classic Thriller, New York, 1995.

Boyd, David, editor, Perspectives on Alfred Hitchcock, New York, 1995.

Condon, Pauline, Complete Hitchcock, London, 1999.

Harris, Robert A., Complete Films of Alfred Hitchcock, Secaucus, 1999.

Bellour, Raymond, The Analysis of Film, Bloomington, 2000.

McGilligan, Patrick, Alfred Hitchcock, New York, 2001.

Articles:

Domarchi, Jean, and Jean Douchet, interview with Hitchcock, in Cahiers du Cinéma (Paris), December 1959.

Hitchcock, Alfred, "Pourquoi j'ai peur la nuit," in Arts (Paris), June 1960.

Crowther, Bosley, in New York Times, 17 June 1960.

Sarris, Andrew, in Village Voice (New York), 11 August 1960.

Callenbach, Ernest, in Film Quarterly (Berkeley), Fall 1960.

Dyer, Peter, in Sight and Sound (London), Autumn 1960.

Baker, Peter, in Films and Filming (London), September 1960.

Demonsablon, Philippe, "Lettre de New York," in Cahiers du Cinéma (Paris), September 1960.

Kaplan, Nelly, "Je suis une légende," in Lettres Françaises (Paris), October 1960.

Allombert, Guillaume, "Alfred Hitchcock," in Image et Son (Paris), November 1960.

Douchet, Jean, "Hitchcock et son public," in Cahiers du Cinéma (Paris), November 1960.

Wood, Robin, "Psychanalyse de Pyscho," in Cahiers du Cinéma (Paris), November 1960.

Boisset, Yves, interview with Hitchcock, in Cinéma (Paris), January 1961.

Ian, Cameron, and V. F. Perkins, interview with Hitchcock, in Movie (London), 6 January 1963.

Bean, Robin, "Pinning Down the Quicksilver," in Films and Filming (London), July 1965.

Hardison, O. B. "The Rhetoric of Hitchcock's Thrillers," in Man at the Movies, Baton Rouge, Louisiana, 1967.

Braudy, Leo, in Film Quarterly (Berkeley), Summer 1968.

Nogueira, Rui, "Pyscho, Rosie and a Touch of Orson: Janet Leigh Talks," in Sight and Sound (London), Spring 1970.

Gough-Yates, Kevin, "Private Madness and Public Lunacy," in Films and Filming (London), February 1972.

Corliss, Richard, "Psycho Therapy," in Favorite Movies: Critics' Choice New York, 1973.

Tarnowski, J. F., "De quelques points de théorie du cinéma," in Positif (Paris), September 1975.

Almendarez, Valentin, in Cinema Texas Program Notes (Austin), 21 September 1978.

Bellour, Raymond, "Psychosis, Neurosis, Perversion," in Camera Obscura (Berkeley), nos. 3–4, 1979.

Thomson, David, "The Big Hitch," in Film Comment (New York), March-April 1979.

Bikácsy, G., "Alfred Hitchcock," in Filmkultura (Budapest), September-October 1979.

Telotte, J. P., "Faith and Idolatry in the Horror Film," in Literature/ Film Quarterly (Salisbury, Maryland), no. 3, 1980.

Verstappen, W., "De eenvoud van Hitchcock," in Skoop (Amsterdam), April 1981.

Crawford, L., "Segmenting the Filmic Text," in Enclitic (Minneapolis), Fall 1981-Spring 1982.

Klinger, Barbara, "Psycho: The Institutionalization of Female Sexuality," in Wide Angle (Athens, Ohio), vol. 5 no. 3, 1983.

Anderson, Paul, in Starburst (London), January 1985.

Thomson, David, in Film Comment (New York), January-February 1985.

Matthew-Walker, R., "Hitchcock's Little Joke," in Films and Filming (London), July 1986.

Tanner, L., interview with Anthony Perkins, in Films in Review (New York), August-September 1986.

Palmer, R. Barton, "The Metafictional Hitchcock: The Experience of Viewing and the Viewing of Experience in Rear Window and Psycho," in Cinema Journal (Champaign, Illinois), Winter 1986.

Cardullo, B., "Some Notes on Classic Films," in New Orleans Review, no. 2, 1990.

Iskusstvo Kino (Moscow), no. 11, 1990.

Rebello, S., "Alfred Hitchcock Goes Psycho," in American Film (Washington, D.C.), April 1990.

Bruno, M. W., "Bates Motel," in Segnocinema (Vincenza, Italy), September-October 1990.

Recchia, E., "Through a Shower Curtain Darkly: Reflexitivity as a Dramatic Component of Psycho," in Literature/Film Quarterly (Salisbury, Maryland), no. 4, 1991.

Sterritt, D., "The Diabolic Imagination: Hitchcock, Bakhtin, and the Carnivalization of Cinema," in Hitchcock Annual (Gambier, Ohio), no. 1, 1992.

Janisch, A., in Filmvilag (Budapest), no. 10, 1993.

Heijer, J., "Hitchcock's Psycho in Stephen Frears' The Grifters," in Canadian Journal of Film Studies (Ottawa), vol. 3, no. 1, Spring 1994.

Williams, Linda, "Learning to Scream," in Sight & Sound (London), vol. 4, no. 12, December 1994.

Fischer, Dennis K., "Psycho with Limits," in Outré (Evanston), vol. 1, no. 2, Spring 1995.

Hall, John W., "Touch of Psycho ? Hitchcock's Debt to Welles," in Bright Lights (Cincinnati), no. 14, 1995.

Morrison, K., "The Technology of Homicide: Constructions of Evidence and Truth in American Murder Films," in CineAction (Toronto), no. 38, September 1995.

Ankerich, Michael, "Psyched-Up for Psycho: Janet Leigh Remembers the Classic Thriller on the Eve of its 35th Anniversary," in Classic Images (Muscatine), no. 243, September 1995.

Morris, Christopher D., "Psycho 's Allegory of Seeing," in Literature/Film Quarterly (Salisbury), vol. 24, no. 1, January 1996.

Caminer, Sylvia, and John Andrew Gallagher, "Joseph Stefano," in Films in Review (New York), vol. 47, no. 1–2, January-February 1996.

Negra, Diane, "Coveting the Feminine: Victor Frankenstein, Norman Bates, and Buffalo Bill," in Literature/Film Quarterly (Salisbury), vol. 24, no. 2, April 1996.

Griffith, James, "Psycho: Not Guilty as Charged," in Film Comment (New York), vol. 32, no. 4, July-August 1996.

Fischer, D., "A Conversation with Janet Leigh: 'Not Just a Screamer!"' in Filmfax (Evanston), no. 58, October/January 1996/1997.

Thomas, D., "On Being Norman: Performance and Inner Life in Hitchcock's Psycho," in CineAction (Toronto), no. 44, 1997.

Thomson, D., "Ten Films that Showed Hollywood How to Live," in Movieline (Escondido), vol. 8, July 1997.

Lucas, Tim, in Video Watchdog (Cincinnati), no. 47, 1998.

* * *

There are those for whom Alfred Hitchcock is a "master of suspense" the premier technician of the classical narrative cinema; there are those for whom Hitchcock's mastery of film technique, of "pure cinema" as he liked to call it, amount to a species of pandering, or even of an audience-directed cruelty; there are others for whom Hitchcock's fables of emotions trapped and betrayed are seen as self-reflexive, enticing the viewer to participate in the drama of suspense only to call that participation into moral question; and, finally, there are those who find in Hitchcock's films submerged allegories of grace, of mistakes acknowledged, redeemed, and transcended. Despite such general differences of opinion, however, it is commonly agreed among Hitchcock scholars that Psycho raised the issue of Hitchcock's artistic status and intentions (or lack thereof) in its purest form, as if it were his most essential, most essentially Hitchcockian, film.

Indeed, the shower murder sequence in Psycho— wherein Janet Leigh's almost confessional cleansing is cut short by the knife wielding "Mrs. Bates"—is frequently cited as a textbook instance of cinematic suspense and formal (montage) perfection. Moreover, it is this murder of the film's ostensible heroine, roughly a third of the way through the narrative, that most critics focus on when discussing the significance of the entire film, as if it were the film writ small, as if the film were itself an act of murder that we are commanded, via Hitchcock's expert use of subjective camera, to take part and pleasure in.

Two kinds of evidence are typically invoked to support such a reading of Psycho and of Hitchcock generally. One of these is Hitchcock's lifelong commitment to popular cinematic genres, mainly the thriller. The underlying premise here is that Hitchcock had ample opportunity to break out of the thriller format, to become an "artist" in the way that Fellini and Antonioni are (it is often pointed out that Psycho and L'avventura were released within a year of each other), so that his apparent decision not to do so can be read as a matter either of obsession (as if he feared to) or satisfaction (as if he aspired no higher). And underlying this premise is the conviction that popular genres, of their very nature, are inimical to serious art, are too much the product of popular tastes and box-office calculation to allow for humane insights or serious artistic self-expression—hence O. B. Hardison's argument that Hitchcock is less an artist than a "rhetorician."

A second sort of evidence is also cited to support the claim that neither Hitchcock nor Psycho need be taken seriously—his comments to interviewers, especially regarding his working methods and intentions. Hitchcock's description of Psycho as "a fun picture," one that takes its audience through an emotional process "like taking them through the haunted house at the fairground" (in Movie 6), is a notorious instance of this apparent dissociation between the seriousness of his ostensible subjects (crime, murder, sexuality) and the triviality of Hitchcock's approach. As David Thomson puts it, "Psycho is just the cocky leer of evil genius flaunting tragic material but never brave enough to explore it."

The case against Psycho is grounded in a reading of intention and effect, the charge being that Hitchcock's intentions are mercenary and that the effect of the film is a kind of brutality, directed equally at the film's characters and its audience. The accepted case for the film follows a similar line of reasoning, though to different conclusions. Thus critics like Robin Wood and Leo Braudy would agree that in Psycho Hitchcock "forces the audience . . . to face the most sinister connotations of our audience role" by playing with, yet disturbing, our normal expectation "that our moral sympathies and our aesthetic sympathies [will] remain fixed throughout the movie." Our desire to "identify" with sympathetic characters is thus called increasingly into question as our "identification" shifts from the reasonably normal Marion Crane to the seemingly normal Norman Bates—who finally becomes "Mrs. Bates" in an epiphany of confused identity. Indeed, it is this voyeuristic tendency to identify with others, or to identify them as the views we take of them, often without their knowledge, that the film calls into ethical doubt, forcing viewers "to see the dark potentialities within all of us."

Such arguments for and against Psycho are problematic, however, on several counts—not the least of which is the common assumption that the film, of its very essence, is "naturally voyeuristic." Is it more or less voyeuristic than still photography, or painting, or sight generally? Also a problem is the clear implication in both arguments that audience response is so thoroughly under Hitchcock's control that "the spectator becomes the chief protagonist." Upon what grounds can we claim to know how all members of a given audience, much less all members of all possible audiences, will respond to a particular film? Furthermore, what warrants our generalizing from predicted audience response to authorial intention? And of what relevance is intention to our evaluation of Psycho in any event? Much discussion of Psycho assumes that our decision to take Psycho seriously as a work of art depends upon our reading of Hitchcock's intentions regarding it; but one can more reasonably argue that the very decision to treat the film as an aesthetic object renders intention ir relevant. As Stanley Cavell puts it, all that matters for our experience of any film is "in front of your eyes."

A final reason for doubting the wisdom of the accepted approaches to Psycho is the focus they place on individual psychology, of the characters, of the viewer, at the expense of other facts of the text. One such fact, often read as an Hitchcockian irrelevancy (a "MacGuffin"), is money—as personified by the oil-rich Mr. Cassidy and as an implicit factor in the attitudes and actions of nearly every major character. It is Sam's lack of money that prompts Marion in the first place to steal Cassidy's $40,000. Sam and Lila assume that money is behind Norman's silence regarding Marion (Norman himself hints that money played a part in the relationship of his widowed mother to her lover); the Sheriff assumes that money is behind Arbogast's disappearance. Indeed, Psycho can be read as a meditation on money and its effects—negative effects as far as the film's characters are concerned, but also positive effects in regard to the audience, or at least in regard to those members of the audience who take Psycho seriously as a warning of the deadly effects that money can have. It is in such terms that the audience can become an implicit "character" in the film— the character who does benefit from the past mistakes and who is therefore capable of transcending them.

—Leland Poague