Blind Spots

Psycho
This post is part of the Blind Spots 2012 series. For back­ground on the series, read the ori­ginal post

Psycho (Director: Alfred Hitchcock): One of the first things I noticed about this classic horror film is how Hitchcock works hard to por­tray “victim” Marion Crane (a gor­geous Janet Leigh) as any­thing but inno­cent. Her first scene is with her lover in a hotel for a lunch­time tryst. When she returns to the real estate office where she works, we know that his money prob­lems are what’s pre­venting them from being mar­ried. And then when a boorish client flirts drunk­enly and leaves $40,000 in cash with her, it’s not a huge stretch for us to see her as the kind of woman who might take this chance to escape her everyday life.

She impuls­ively decides to leave town with the money and go to Sam, her boy­friend, who lives a few hours’ drive away. In the middle of a down­pour, she pulls off to spend the night at the Bates Motel, leading to one of the most famous shower scenes in cine­matic his­tory. I noticed a few things in the film which might be obvious to anyone who has seen it, but as a new­comer to Psycho, I’m hoping you’ll indulge me.

Marion’s sur­name is Crane, which made creepy sense during her con­ver­sa­tion with the motel’s pro­pri­etor Norman Bates. He tells her his hobby is taxi­dermy and that he likes to stuff birds rather than beasts because they’re “passive.”

Hitchcock seems to imply that Marion is killed as a pun­ish­ment for her tran­gres­sion. Even though she has decided to return the money, the first cut away from Marion’s life­less body is to the money, hidden inside a news­paper. Even the rest of the viol­ence that fol­lows from Marion’s murder seems to lead back to her single impulsive act.

The obses­sion by Marion’s employer, sister and boy­friend to keep the police out of things makes it that much harder to actu­ally figure out what has happened. Arbogast, the private invest­ig­ator hired by her boss to recover the money seems to have his own motives that are not as purely “civic” as the police department’s would be. This under­stand­able desire to cover up or hide crimes leads only to bad things for everyone.

Even though I was always aware of the film’s big “reveal,” Psycho still man­ages to hold up as an effective thriller, but I must con­fess that after Marion’s depar­ture, it’s a far less inter­esting film for me. Her motiv­a­tions, and her inter­ac­tions with Norman Bates, are more sub­stan­tial than any­thing and anyone that fol­lows her demise. Her sister and boy­friend are two-dimensional, and exist simply to solve the crime. I espe­cially found the last few minutes, with Simon Oakland’s psy­cho­lo­gist char­acter explaining everything, dis­ap­pointing, though I under­stand that spoon-feeding the audi­ence would make sure nobody missed the point.

Finally, I was never sure where exactly the shower scene occurred in the film. I always thought it was quite close to the begin­ning, and that Norman Bates was the real focus of the film. I was pleas­antly sur­prised that Marion Crane’s char­acter sur­vives until just about the middle, though as I men­tioned, the rest wasn’t quite as enjoyable.

Psycho def­in­itely estab­lished the style of many horror films in the dec­ades to come, and tech­nic­ally, as far as editing and camera work goes, it’s bril­liant. However, even though I have only seen per­haps half a dozen Hitchcock films, it doesn’t seem to me to hold up as well as, say, Rear Window or Vertigo.

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Okay, this is def­in­itely not meant to add to my already bur­den­some film-viewing work­load for 2012, but as I was thinking about the idea of cine­matic blind spots, I wondered about the idea of larger gaps of know­ledge. How many dir­ectors are there whose work I have here­to­fore missed entirely? This could be even more embar­rassing than just listing indi­vidual films, but I thought it might be enter­taining. As well, if you list yours in the com­ments, maybe we could help each other by sug­gesting which film for each dir­ector might make a good intro­duc­tion for someone who hasn’t seen a single one of their films. Here are five of mine:

I got this idea from the cover of the latest issue of 180°, the TIFF Bell Lightbox cata­logue, so I know that I’ll have a chance to catch some Bresson films soon. Okay, your turn!

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Blind Spots

Every time I get together with other film blog­gers here in Toronto, some­body inev­it­ably gasps in horror as someone else admits that they haven’t seen a par­tic­ular movie. This has always been amusing to me, because, you know, everyone has their cine­matic blind spots. Though there is no Official Canon of Films You’re Supposed to Have Seen™, some­times we act as if there is. And there are def­in­itely films that, as a cinephile, I know I should have seen by now, but just have never gotten around to. Hence the idea for the Blind Spot series.

I shared this idea with Ryan McNeil a few weeks back and he’s already gotten the jump on me in posting his list, but the gist of the idea is that I’m going to list a dozen films below. Films I feel somehow guilty or silly for not having seen yet. I’ve some­times nodded along to dis­cus­sions of these films, hoping nobody would ask me my opinion. By the end of 2012, I will be armed with my own opin­ions on them, along with a small sense of accomplishment.

My hope is to watch and post some­thing about each film on this list during 2012. Though I have many many more than 12 on my blind spot list, for this first attempt, I’m going to try to bal­ance Hollywood films with for­eign and doc­u­mentary films. Ideally, I’ll post once a month, but I’m not holding myself to that and neither should you. Here goes (and no gasping!):

  • Raging Bull (1980, Director: Martin Scorsese)*
  • Knife in the Water (1962, Director: Roman Polanski)*
  • Nashville (1975, Director: Robert Altman)
  • L’Atalante (1934, Director: Jean Vigo)*
  • Gone with the Wind (1939, Director: Victor Fleming)
  • Psycho (1960, Director: Alfred Hitchcock)
  • Blue Velvet (1986, Director: David Lynch)*
  • The Conformist (1970, Director: Bernardo Bertolucci)*
  • Jules and Jim (1962, Director: Francois Truffaut)
  • Grey Gardens (1975, Directors: Albert and David Maysles with Ellen Hovde and Muffie Meyer)
  • Cabaret (1972, Director: Bob Fosse)
  • Tokyo Story (1953, Director: Yasujirô Ozu)

Films marked with an asterisk (*) are ones I have actu­ally owned on DVD for quite a while now.

You are more than wel­come to join me in this enter­prise. Come up with your own list, post in the com­ments and/or on your blog, and let’s keep each other account­able for expanding our know­ledge of cinema next year!

Thanks to Flickr user atomische (Tom Geibel) for making his image avail­able under a Creative Commons license.

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