When larcenous real estate clerk Marion Crane goes on the lam with a wad of cash and hopes of starting a new life, she ends up at the notorious Bates Motel, where manager Norman Bates cares for his housebound mother. The place seems quirky, but fine… until Marion decides to take a shower.
|Release Date||:||June 16, 1960|
|Genres||:||Drama, Horror, Thriller|
|Production Company||:||Shamley Productions|
|Production Countries||:||United States of America|
|Director||:||Alfred Hitchcock, Hilton A. Green, Lester Wm. Berke|
|Writers||:||Robert Bloch, Joseph Stefano|
|Casts||:||Anthony Perkins, Vera Miles, John Gavin, Janet Leigh, Martin Balsam, John McIntire, Simon Oakland, Frank Albertson, Patricia Hitchcock, Vaughn Taylor, Lurene Tuttle, Mort Mills, John Anderson, Alfred Hitchcock, Walter Bacon, Francis De Sales, George Dockstader, Harper Flaherty, Lillian O'Malley, Fred Scheiwiller, George Eldredge, Sam Flint, Virginia Gregg, Jeanette Nolan, Frank Killmond, Ted Knight, Pat McCaffrie, Hans Moebus, Helen Wallace, Robert Osborne|
|Plot Keywords||:||hotel, clerk, arizona, shower, rain, motel, money, secretary, corpse, murderer, theft, private detective, proto-slasher|
Most modern-day horror films make the killer to be an absolutely inhuman, grotesque, unimaginable monster in order to scare the audience out of its wits. Most of the time, however, these stereotypes create a generic murderer a raving, ranting, clearly demented psychopath. One of the few memorable cinematic killers that does not adhere to these restraints and cliches is, of course, Anthony Hopkins' Hannibal Lecter, whom manages to effectively cause the audience to recoil without such drek as the aforementioned devices.
Anthony Perkins' skillfully crafts his performance as Norman Bates, avoiding a ranting, raving, drooling, murder-happy, manic characterization; instead his performance as Norman is subtle, creepy, cool, and unsettling. He is brilliant; from his quiet conversations with Marion Crane amidst the stuffed birds, to his weasling wimpiness when confronted by Arbogast, his performance is so exact that it chills the viewer, all without the unnecessary disturbing images prevalent in more modern films (read The Cell, Henry: Portrait of A Serial Killer).
Perkin's fine performance, a tight script, and Bernstein's classic score make Psycho a film that is now and will always be remembered as one of the pinnacles of the horror genre.