Psycho Still Makes The Cut
Hitchcock’s characteristic touches of black humor are very evident in
Psycho, most notably in Norman’s hobby -- taxidermy. Norman likes to stuff
things. Birds. Mrs. Bates? Perhaps. The stuffed birds that adorn the walls of Norman’s
office were prophetic, for the master of suspense would, in his next film, offer these
members of the animal kingdom an opportunity to stuff themselves by snacking on human
heads in 1963’s The Birds, Hitchcock’s last film of special merit. Birds have
often been used by Hitchcock to symbolize good (In Foreign Correspondent, the
kidnapped dignitary played by Albert Basserman, is extremely fond of birds, and, in one
early scene, suggests that even on the eve of a world war, there is still hope for mankind
when people still take time to feed them). In Psycho, those ever watchful yet
dead eyes seem to represent Norman’s voyeurism, his only mode of sexual expression, not
only before the murder of Marion Crane when he watches her undress through a peephole,
but throughout the film. When not cutting loose with a kitchen knife, Norman is passive,
watching, and seemingly waiting for the kill.
The film deteriorates a little at the end, not as badly as Mrs. Bates whose
hollow-eyed corpse hogs a well deserved close-up at the film’s climax, but enough to
prevent Psycho from achieving perfection. A lengthy denouement in which a
psychologist (Simon Oakland) attempts to explain the motives behind Norman’s behavior
is filled with a lot of sophomoric psychology that would be embarrassing if it wasn’t so
dull. Rigormortis sets in at this point, and the scene seems longer than the 108 minute running time of the entire picture. Fortunately, there is a payoff in the final
moments when Anthony Perkins returns to the screen for a brief but brilliant moment as
both mother and son.
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