If ever there was a movie that defined horror films and launched the genre to a new level, it is Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. So impactful was the film upon the popular consensus, that it would shift the perspective and inspire future filmmakers but upon its release it would not receive such high accolades, mainly directed at the melodramatic choices and these sensationalistic tendencies from Hitchcock were based purely on shock value, labelling Psycho as a gimmick.

The reason Psycho holds such a lofty position over 60 years since its release, is not just the shift in tone, whether it was the surprise murder of Marion (Janet Leigh) a third of the way through the movie, or the identity of Norman’s mother, but the psychological components that drive deep into the heart of the narrative. The stylised elements that Hitchcock adds to the film are the eloquent touches that allow these conceptual components to flourish.

Like Peeping Tom released earlier in the year, Psycho plays with the voyeuristic approach to the narrative, luring the viewer into the seemingly fragile Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins), a man traumatised by the emotional abuse of his mother. This is more noticeable when Bates removes the painting to look through a peephole at the unwitting Marion has she undressed. The male gaze and the seduction has never before been dallied with in a high-profile feature.

There are also strong symbolisms embedded throughout that entrench the foundations that it was built upon. Amongst the questionable character traits that keep the audience guessing, there are also twists and turns of vulnerability and exploitation that thread throughout. These executions on delivery would leave audiences feeling anxious or unease, daring to go where movies had feared or were unable to do so relaxed views on the Production Code; an act of self-censorship imposed by the industry. The fact that Psycho overshadowed Peeping Tom for broaching similar themes seems unjust, where one director would rise to prominence and be forever remembered for his film, whereas the other would be doomed to a fallen career as a  result.

That’s not to say that Psycho doesn’t deserve to have the recognition bestowed upon it, The performances by the film’s leads, Janet Leigh, Anthony Perkins and Vera Myles are at their most renowned and for good reason. Perkins’ flickers around with Bates’ personality casually swinging from likeable charm and gaining our sympathy to an unsettling picture of a man who is on the brink of reality. 

I’ve yet to remark on the score by Bernard Herrmann, whose jarring strings punctuate the now infamous shower scene in stark contrast to the muted, darker and intense scenes. The use of tension as it slowly wrenches up though Arbogast’s (Martin Barlsam) investigations and the pursuit of truth from Marion’s sister Lila (Leigh) and Sam Loomis (John Gavin), Marion’s lover drive our own hopes that our suspected protagonist will prevail before the veil is firmly drawn from before our eyes.

There are countless areas that I could wax lyrical on but these have been discussed on other platforms before, Needless to say, it takes place here (rightfully) for its entry into the 1960s horror retrospective. With three sequels, a dubious remake, and a TV series all centred around Norman Bates have further cemented its status and will forever be immersed in our collective psyche.

– Saul Muerte

1960s Horror Retrospective

The Flesh and the Fiend

Eyes Without A Face

Peeping Tom