Psycho: A Review (of sorts) of the 4K Restoration
Ever since the restored, 4K version of Psycho had been promised, like most Hitchcock fans, I’d waited for its release with bated breath.
The movie’s latest iteration is an ‘extended version’ featuring 13 seconds of restored footage, cut by the censors after its initial theatrical release. Most articles covering it declared it’s how Psycho was originally seen in cinemas in 1960 (true-ish), exactly as intended by Alfred Hitchcock (untrue-ish). The director’s battles with the censors were waged over more than those 13 seconds, but hey, the opportunity to see Psycho on the big screen, pristine and intact, was appealing…
What surprised me was how little marketing effort was put into Norman’s return to the cinema, and how few screenings the film received. I discovered – quite by chance – that Psycho was showing at my local Odeon on the day it received its single outing. The auditorium was pleasingly full, but there were empty seats and when I mentioned the one-off event to friends, some were gutted they’d not heard about the solitary showing in advance.
A quick word about the audience demographic in terms of age: broad. Under-20s. Over 60s. And lots in-between. Good to see Hitch’s appeal remains wide, although I’m under no illusions the room would have verged on empty if Odeon was treating us to say, Young and Innocent.
It was an absolute joy to watch Psycho on the big screen, and an almost equal joy to hear it.
But let’s get this out of the way from the off. The shower scene is something of a let-down. I mean, it’s a brilliant, brutal let-down. But a let-down nevertheless, because it’s so familiar and so lauded. It’s as if we’re witnessing an exercise in film-making, as opposed to a film.
After seeing the murder of Marion Crane so many times, we anticipate every cut, and every cut. When the scene ends with that famous pullback, it’s hard not to think about what a great job Janet Leigh does to remain unblinking. We know what the actress was thinking (thanks to her fascinating book devoted entirely to the making of Psycho) and we know how long the previous few seconds had taken to shoot and who the stand-in actress was, and what she was wearing and how –
You get the picture.
It’s a little like, ‘to be or not to be’. It’s no longer a question of whether to live or die; more a karaoke cliché that an audience can join in with, if it feels so inclined.
But that’s not Shakespeare’s fault, no more than the over-familiarity of the shower scene is an element for which Hitchcock can be blamed. And – controversial, I know – I always preferred the murder of Arbogast, anyway…
The restoration is a zinger. I mean, obviously, but what impressed me was that it still looked like a 1960 movie. I’ve seen some restorations of black and white classics which to my eyes look too upgraded. Yes, this Psycho is immaculate, but it’s not too immaculate, if that makes any sense. No? Oh, well. Welcome to my world…
In a 1963 interview with Cinema, Hitch called Psycho ‘…one of the most cinematic pictures I’ve ever made’ yet famously it was shot using personnel largely drawn from the team that made his TV output. This version somehow catches that contradiction. Roger Ebert might have been stretching it when he commented, ‘Hitchcock deliberately wanted Psycho to look like a cheap exploitation film’ but there’s something about the work that demands to be seen imperfectly. Cleaning the movie up too much would be like photoshopping a bigger smile on the Mona Lisa.
There’s a lot I can say about Psycho that hasn’t already been said. It continually yields more, a fact that bears testament to its director’s genius. But here are just 3 thoughts about the shocker which, as he told Francois Truffaut, ‘…belongs to filmmakers, to you and me…’
Janet Leigh is awesome. Not just the shower scene. Every scene. Brilliantly nuanced. In her every breath she’s a strong, confident woman impaled by passion and misfortune. Yes, Anthony Perkins is utterly superb as Norman, but I continually marvel at Janet Leigh’s performance. Scarily good.
The restored 13 seconds of footage jarred for me. I’m not sure we need them. Not now. They’re so obviously ‘new’ to us that their addition jolted me from the experience of following Marion, Sam et al and reminded me I was viewing a film. And – heresy, I know – I prefer Norman’s spying on his guest to be less on the nose. We get that it’s sexual. Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t hate what the scene has become. But the restored footage stabs home the point just a little too keenly for me.
It’s a beautiful mess. Not in its execution, but the narrative unfurling. Characters constantly misunderstand the situation. People are wildly misjudged. Some clues lead nowhere. Matters (such as the money) suddenly cease to be important and are discarded, as bigger problems arise. There’s an authentic ambiguity to many of the players in this grim little tale that adds to that messiness, from the ominous cop to the dogged detective. The laughing and the tears… I love all this about Psycho. The direction is sublime but the script is in itself an absolute masterpiece.
But you can see for yourself as this restored version is now available on Blu-ray. Do I have a screen that will do it justice? No. Will I buy it? Yes. Madness, I know. But then again, we all go a little mad sometimes... Haven’t you?
