Showing posts with label Joseph Stefano. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joseph Stefano. Show all posts
Sunday, September 25, 2016
Psycho IV: The Quest for Peace
The big attraction of this movie is Joseph Stefano, screenwriter of the original film, returning. Stefano didn't care for what the previous sequels did, so he ignores them, which is bad-ass. There's nothing to outright make the sequels obsolete, you can still fit them in if you choose, but this movie wanted to be and CAN be viewed as a direct follow-up to the original. There's only brief inconsistencies, including with the original, but no worse than the ones II and III created. These inconsistencies are really just a mark of what happens when sequels spiral out of control and you make sequels so far after the original.
Psycho IV is simple, but effective: Norman -- seen living in a nice house and shown to be married -- calls into a radio show, whose topic is matricide, to recount his story. Before I go further, I have to say that if you're watching these movies one after the other and take II and III into consideration, it's unintentionally hilarious just how many chances Norman's been given, despite proving he shouldn't be on the streets. But if Stefano intended for this to be like a Psycho II instead, a direct follow-up to the original, that's not an issue.
Norman calling into this radio show is a bit of a lazy way to frame the flashback scenes, and that's basically what the entirety of this movie is. I'm of the opinion that it's probably best to never depict Norman's past on screen, to leave it a mystery, to leave that ambiguity about the character. (So I have no idea how A&E's Bates Motel show has milked this exact set-up for four seasons now.)
I think probably the strongest part of the movie is the early hint that Norman's wife is pregnant and his confession to the radio host that he has no choice but to kill again, meaning his wife. So it becomes a bit of a tense stand-off, this radio host trying to keep him on the line and trying to prevent him from going through with it. I think this would have made a really good short story, and it's a more interesting part of the movie than the mystery-shattering origin story which is filmed in a corny way, as per the Mick Garris norm. Because this also brings back the sympathy for Norman that was obliterated in II and not even a part of III -- Norman fears he'll pass along his mental problems to his kid. His wife went against his wishes to not have kids and stopped trying to prevent it, so he's upset with her, and feels there's no way out but to kill her. After phoning it in for the last movie, Perkins' performance during this part is effective; there's pain and fear there.
I don't know if this is just something that happens in retrospect or if it was known and intended, but there's a sense of sorrow and finality hanging over the movie. I don't know if this movie was intended to be the end because of diminishing returns or if it might have had to do with Perkins' health, but there's certainly a sense that this is the final Norman Bates story, not only by having him relive his life, but ending with him burning down the Bates residence to be rid of his past. This adds another layer to Perkins' performance, and makes Norman's fear for his offspring, Norman's reluctance to kill again and Norman's all around skittishness and terror more haunting. The other sequels had these moments of "Fuck, yeah! Norman's back" when he gets up to old tricks again, but here in this movie he's terrified. He doesn't like what he was, and could still be. He doesn't feel like he can truly be cured, but he doesn't want to be a killer. II and III are outlandish, but here Norman feels like a person again.
The movie's not exactly scary or suspenseful, but I feel like story is more of its goal than being scary or suspenseful. It's certainly not suspenseful in the sense that most of the movie is devoted to the past, so there's no real stakes or danger -- you know Norman's going to kill, you know he'll get away. And the scenes set in the past are done in a bit of a hokey way -- while this movie makes the wise choice of bringing back Bernard Hermann's classic music from the original, it uses it in predictable, eye-rolling ways. (Norman's first kill? Accompanied by the classic music that screeches when Janet Leigh's Marion is killed. A lightweight mistake.)
I've said before that I'm not really a fan of director Mick Garris. His movies have a plainness to them, and his scare scenes play lighthearted to me, like a Tales From the Crypt episode or something. This movie succeeds on the script and most of its performances, from Perkins to Olivia Hussey, and CCH Pounder to Warren Frost.
Olivia Hussey's work here is overlooked. I think she does a great job in this movie, but it's become cool to trash her in favor of Vera Farmiga from A&E's TV series. I'm going to risk pissing off a lot of people, but "Mother" has always been kind of cheesily depicted to me. She always has that bad Aunt May wig, the overly large floral dress. Virginia Gregg's voice-over performance is a little too cartoonish. (I know I'm always going on about how I like the subtlety of the original, but I'm always surprised a sequel never had Norman actually wear Mother's corpse. That would have been grisly and over-the-top, perhaps, but creepy. Probably not something you could get away with in 1960. The sequels adhered too close to the original, right down to keeping the EXACT Mother look, which didn't age well and doesn't play in color. Try not to laugh when Henry Thomas is dressed like Mother, dubbed in a woman's voice saying stuff like "Drive, whore!" I don't think you're meant to laugh. There's a reason Hitchcock kept "her" in the shadows, and you only saw Norman dressed as her briefly at the very end.)
So here with this movie, and Hussey's performance, Norma feels like a full character, an unstable character who can be threatening in her fits of rage, but also at turns charming. So you can see, in a more believable way, that Norman inherited her illness as well as being effected by her abuse.
Norman's wife, Connie, was a nurse at the institution Norman was at. She knew all about him, and thought he was husband material? What's wrong with this woman? Also: super professional of you! But the actress is good and likable, so you worry about her at the end there, when Norman takes her to the Bates house, where he plans to kill her. She convinces him not to, to give their kid a chance, and he listens, before going back to the house and burning it down. Throughout the scene, he starts seeing phantoms throughout the house -- Norma, her boyfriend, the first girl he killed -- this was an interesting idea, one that probably read better than it plays. And *if* they knew it would be the last Psycho movie, wouldn't it have been neat to throw in something of Norman's most famous kill, and have a Janet Leigh look-alike?
I think a strong end to this movie would be for Norman to have listened to Connie and sent her away as he burned down the house, but he just stays at the house and lets himself die. Maybe they were hopeful Perkins would have been able to do more? Before the credits roll, they play a sound effect of a baby crying, so they were probably planning to at least pick up and do a "Son of Psycho" thing, which...thankfully they didn't end up doing.
The movie could have used a stronger director, but it's all in all not as weak as I remembered it. I'd probably rank the series like this:
1) Psycho
2) Psycho IV
3) Psycho 2
4) Psycho 3
Friday, August 26, 2016
Psycho Analysis
What's there left to say about Psycho? Especially coming from a smart-ass like me, who respects Hitchcock, but isn't reverent of his work. Psycho is a legendary movie, considered not only one of the (if not the) best horror movies, but one of the best movies of all time, while also considered to be the godfather of slasher films and modern horror, inspiring numerous horror creators. The movie is bullet proof...but has had a couple of dents put into it. Unlike what Hollywood says, I do think remakes can negatively effect originals, and I think the 1998 remake taints the 1960 original a bit. I'm unfortunately going to talk about the remake while talking about the original in this post, and some of the quick fixes that the remake could have made, and maybe have been improved. I hope to go on to talk about the sequels, because I've long dismissed them as inferior, but I haven't watched them for a while.
I first saw the original Psycho in the late '90s. I've never really been a snob about older movies, I had been exposed to a lot of older movies, but I would still be skeptical when I'd hear people talk about how scary or disturbing Psycho was. I had seen things like The Birds and Vertigo and didn't find the former scary, and only eventually enjoyed the latter as a noir mystery. I hate to admit it, but I had that obnoxious youngster point of view of "How scary could that old B&W movie be?"
So I put off watching Psycho. And at the point I first saw it, it had already become a legend, so it was one of those movies I felt like I saw without having seen it -- you know the iconic parts, you know the twists, so there's no real urge to watch it. But you just always hear good things about it. And, at the time, I had a real fear of mental illness and psychological breakdowns, so I gave it a chance thinking maybe, if not actual scares, there would be something unsettling about it. And I had built in my head an idea of what Norman was like, and while it was more outrageous and monstrous than what the movie presents, there was a dread building the longer it took him to appear.
So, in the wee hours one day, I sat down and watched Psycho. And I was into it! It didn't make me hide behind my couch or anything, but there were some effectively eerie scenes and shots, it had great atmosphere, and it was, of course, well made and acted. And then shortly afterward that horrible remake hit, and I found a further appreciation for the original and how subtle it is. And it's important to remember its subtlety, because...
I then read the book by Robert Bloch. The book comes across to me as a sleazy pulp -- it's one of the rare instances of a movie greatly improving on the book. And, in the book, Norman was the biggest serial killer cliche you can imagine -- kept to himself, lived at home, in his 40s, fat, balding, four-eyed, alcoholic, cross-dresser, peeping tom, porno addict, into the occult, etc. He really just checked off every box possible in the Skeevy Stereotype Cliche List(tm). Now, the movie obviously keeps a couple of those ingredients, but goes against the expected by toning down the character and casting Anthony Perkins, who had been known for playing nice, average guys. And you can't overstate the importance of Anthony Perkins' casting and performance, because rather than overplay Norman as a repulsive creep, there's a sympathetic quality to his performance, a youthful joy and a likability which the sequels will get mileage out of and would be complete failures without. Perkins was Hitchcock's choice, and it was an inspired one.
Perkins' Norman is immediately friendly and seemingly well-meaning; sure, he's awkward, but that's chalked up to the motel not seeing many customers and his being isolated. There's a few moments of oddness, like he can seem defensive or irritable, but I find pretty much every character in this movie acting a little odd. And, at any rate, he's not acting like an out and out creep. I hate to bring up the remake, but that was a big problem with Vince Vaughn -- from the first frame he's in, he's just a weasely little creep.
(Imagine if, instead of being a lazy, pointless shot-for-shot remake of Hitchcock's film, the remake had decided to be closer to the book. With apologies to Jason Alexander, I pictured him as Norman when I read the book. Imagine Jason Alexander as Norman -- I think Alexander could have actually turned on the charm and thrown you off. I don't know why Hollywood always mistakenly thinks Vince Vaughn is a good dramatic actor. In fact, I feel like a lot of the remake's problem lies in the casting. Gus Van Sant tried too hard to cast people who had the most buzz at the time, all to make his movie "hip," rather than who would be good for the role. The remake would still be pointless, but I think a different cast would have helped somewhat. Or maybe even just shuffle around some of the people. I'll get to more of that in a second.)
Even when you rewatch it or already know all of its secrets, you just feel a pity for Perkins' Norman, as he cleans the scene of Marion's murder in a panic. You watch that scene initially thinking he's covering for his mother, when he's really covering for himself, but Perkins sells the way Norman is disgusted, pained, shocked and saddened by Marion's death and his "mother's" crime. While Norman has a split personality, and therefore is unaware of what he does as "mother," it's kind of interesting to watch this movie and pick apart dialogue, like when Norman is talking about his mother, think of it as him talking about himself. (Like when he knowingly describes what it's like inside a psychiatric hospital.) He's cleaning up his own crime scene, but the film lingers on that scene, and wants you to be as nervous as he is about the possibility of being caught. This movie would not work without Perkins. Hitchcock's a manipulative bastard for wanting you to root for Marion ripping off that guy's money and wanting you to sigh in relief when Norman disposes of bodies.
One interesting aspect of the Marion character, that I don't think I've seen many people talk about, is the way that her conversation with Norman influences her decision to return to Phoenix with the money. Norman's talking about the traps you'll find in life, Marion realizing the trap she's set for herself; she thinks stealing money and running to Sam will guarantee a life of happiness, when she'll be trapping herself and Sam in the paranoid lives of criminals, never comfortable for they're always be looking over their shoulders. So, she decided to do the right thing and face the consequences, seeing the light in a conversation with the man who will shortly end her life and prevent her from carrying out that decision.
Marion's a sorrowful character, stuck in a rut and not wanting to let a good thing and better sounding life get away from her. So when she sees a door of opportunity, she dashes through it, another man's money in her hands. Janet Leigh was only around 33 at the time of this movie, but she makes the character come across as older, beaten down. Unhappy. And because of the film's time period, and the societal judgments and taboos of that era, her desperation to marry Sam instead of all of the sneaking around makes more sense.
Marion's story just doesn't seem to work as well in that remake, between the modern setting and the technological advances in police procedure making her caper and motivation seem a bit unbelievable. And Anne Heche is horribly miscast; you don't like her, she doesn't convey the unhappiness or desperation. Just a terrible casting choice. Heche was 28 at the time of the movie, when Marion should have been a little older...I think it would have helped if she and Julianne Moore swapped roles, Moore as the more mature Marion and Heche as the young, rebellious sister Lila, searching for her missing older sister and not taking shit from anyone who gets in her way.
I always thought John Gavin was a problem as Sam; he's just a stiff, awkward performer, like when an athlete takes a stab at acting. (I can't believe we were close to having Gavin as James Bond.) You don't really get the impression he even worries about Marion that much, which is how viewers (and sequel writers) make the leap that he ends up with Lila, which just makes Sam seem like a bastard. Viggo Mortensen's not much of an improvement in the remake, but here's another time when maybe the remake should have swapped cast members: I think Mortensen would have been a more interesting, chilling Norman than Vaughn. Let Vaughn play Sam, that would have been against type at the time. And lastly: replace William H. Macy with Robert Forster as Arbogast. Forster, hot off of Jackie Brown, was wasted as Dr. Exposition in the final act, while Macy looks and sounds like a kid playing private detective. See? Maybe the remake could have turned out slightly more watchable with just some cast swapping. The shot-for-shot approach was still an idiotic mistake, though. If you're going to "modernize" the movie and make it "hip" for the new kids, why would you just Xerox a movie from over 30 years ago? Either truly update it, adapt the book more faithfully, or take a new approach. (How about Norma Bates with a split Norman personality? What about a daughter with a father fixation?)
I don't care how Millennial and n00b it sounds, but it's hard to watch this movie now and not wonder how moviegoers at the time didn't feel massively cheated. You spend about forty minutes with Marion and she's disposed of, then you spend the rest of the movie with the murderer who's covering his ass.
Did the audience start the movie, seeing its initial robbery plot and be like "Why's this called Psycho? Who's supposed to be the Psycho? What's Psycho about stealing some cash? That happens in every movie. Where's Anthony Perkins? He has top billing. Is Janet Leigh the Psycho? She seems OK. She likes to imagine detailed conversations on her drives a little too much, but she seems OK. Oh, here's Anthony Perkins. He's a little twitchy, but he doesn't seem like a Psycho. OK, he's a peeping tom, but that's not really Psycho, is it? Why's he have top-billing if he's just going to be a weird side character on Janet Leigh's road trip? What the...who's this old broad hacking into Janet Leigh? I guess we found our Psycho! Why don't they ever show her? Couldn't they cast her? That's weird. Why name the movie after a character you don't see? Wait, Anthony Perkins is covering up the murder. Maybe he IS the Psycho! Or a Psycho. What...what the hell am I watching here? Wait, there is no old broad, it's Anthony Perkins playing dress up? OK, he's the Psycho. What was all that stuff with Janet Leigh then, that average love affair/rip-off plot? I'll tell you what's Psycho, making us sit through that stuff. Takes 40 minutes to get to the actual Psycho! I'll tell you who the Psycho is, Alfred Hitchcock, that's the Psycho! What a weird movie."
What a weird movie indeed. And the sequels only get weirder. Stay tuned.
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