SEEING PSYCHO WITH THE NOVICES (Segue of the Day: 9/1/15)

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So Psycho came to the local college theater (the big one with the stadium seating this time) and I had a chance to see it on a big screen, with an audience, for the second time since I started this blog.

I wrote about the first experience here and, just from a film school standpoint, everything was the same, only more so. Vera Miles still keeps the whole thing from dissolving with a flicker of the eyelid here, a sideways glance there, an occasional quaver of barely contained emotion appropriate to actual human responses bubbling up through the movie’s otherwise completely flat, almost robotic surfaces.

Anyway, the audience told the tale.

The main difference between the two viewings was that, this time around, I was clearly with kids who had mostly not seen it. That’s maybe another sign, perhaps a slightly surprising one, of how times have changed.

Last time I saw Psycho with a college audience was in the mid-eighties, with VHS players a recent phenomena and public screenings of classic film outside of major cities relatively rare.

Back then, people were competing to see who could recite the most dialog back to the screen. This time around, with opportunities to see popular classics having been in abundance for the entire lifetimes of most of the audience, even the most famous surprises were clearly surprises. Except, of course, for the one surprise almost nobody can avoid knowing about, which is the shower scene.

So the shower scene evoked relatively little response and the screams and shouts and warnings were all at the end, meaning the part real film buffs are always claiming they stop watching after they’ve seen the movie a time or two, because, well, the first part of the movie is where all the film buff stuff is at.

Look, Anthony Perkins’ performance is all that. He deserves every accolade he’s ever received. And Janet Leigh is fine, too. It’s a nicely nuanced turn.

But, as I intimated in the earlier piece, there’s no edge or shadow in her performance (or her persona, such as it was/is) that suggests her character is really the type to steal $40,000 for some reason other than to set a fever dream plot in motion. I suspect that’s why the shower scene has little emotional resonance with audiences these days, when the violence is no longer anywhere near the edge and the “shock” aspects have faded, especially for kids who barely know who Janet Leigh was and have no reason to think she won’t be killed by the sociopath at the Bates Motel just because she’s too big a star to die halfway through the movie.

All of that leaves the movie right where it really always was…with Miles to do the heavy lifting at the climax which, had it not worked so perfectly, would have left the movie a curio for the benighted to discuss among themselves, like Rope or Marnie, instead of, at one and the same time, in the conversation for the greatest horror film and the greatest noir.

Interestingly enough, it’s the end sequence, the foundational, “don’t go in the basement” moment, that is the most iconic. I have no idea if it’s the absolute first of its type, but that hardly matters because it was rare-to-unheard-of before Psycho and, unlike the inimitable shower scene, has been imitated four thousand times since.

All of which adds to my growing and now close to irreversible belief that Hitchcock either truly lost his nerve or let his vendetta against Miles (who had backed out of Vertigo because she was pregnant and refused to get an abortion) obscure his judgment. I love the movie as it is. It’s as great and disturbing as its reputation (something I concede about few Hitchcock movies, as much as I enjoy them).

But I’m convinced it would have been even greater and more disturbing if he had cast Miles in both parts.

And what, may you ask does any of that have to do with the Segue of the Day?

Absolutely nothing.

All the screening did was reinforce some of my already formed opinions (albeit under very different and illuminating circumstances).

Happens all the time.

What I don’t get to do enough of, these days, is smile.

Which is what hearing this…

and this…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sum4Esubx-w

on the sound system, while waiting for the lights to go down so I could watch Psycho with the twenty-year-olds made me do all over.

WHAT IMPRESSED ME THIS WEEK (Burt Kennedy and James Garner Look at the Future Looking at the Past….Or Something Like That)

Support Your Local Sheriff (1969) (Burt Kennedy, director; starring James Garner, Joan Hackett, Bruce Dern, Walter Brennan and a cast sent from God.)

I mean, except for a nice Christmas and all, it’s been a dreary, slogging couple of weeks. So, with depression hovering, I did what I oft-times do and fired up a couple of westerns.

First up, was The Tin Star, Anthony Mann’s superbly balanced town-tamer from 1957, with Henry Fonda’s old school flint sparking Anthony Perkins’ whet-stone Methodology. This was my umpteenth visit and it never gets old.

Then, just by coincidence, my eyes roamed the shelves and alighted on this:

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Now, if anything, I’ve seen this even more often than The Tin Star…but I don’t think it ever made me laugh until I stopped breathing before (believe me, I’d remember, because not much ever does).

It may have just been the burden of the times being lifted for a few moments, but I suspect another element was the proximity (in my personal viewing lexicon) to this.

I mean, Support Your Local Sheriff is a specific kind of spoof–not only of westerns but of the “town-tamer” tropes in particular (there are plenty of direct references to Rio Bravo, My Darling Clementine and High Noon, among many others).

But, take all the elements…a reluctant sheriff:

SUPPORT5a wide open town…

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with muddy streets and, er, “construction issues”

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touchy moral dilemmas…

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shady back room deals…

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a winsome, “complicated” heroine…

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a bemused sidekick…

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villains who embody consummate evil…

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spine-tingling showdowns…

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further moral dilemmas…

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and a sort of happy ending…

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..and what have you got, but Deadwood with all the “realistic” dreariness supplanted by gut-busting laughter and touching human drama!

Not to mention a tight script, a dream cast (every one of whom would have served the “seriousness” of the later project better than their modern stand-ins) and a fine sense of the absurd.

A spot-on parody of the past is one thing.

But parodying the future forty years before it gets around to “revising” that same past?

That’s genius.