Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960)

To fully analyze Psycho is equivalent to categorizing every species in the Amazon; it ain’t going to happen. Psycho is one of the most analyzed, critiqued, and studied movies of all time. It is acclaimed as the best horror film ever. But why is this so? You would think that as time progresses, with the advent of CGI, directors would be more able to scare us, right? Psycho goes toe to toe with all these movies and is just as scary. Movies like The Uninvited, or The Host seem to employ large amounts of special affects, but are they any more effective than Psycho is at scaring our pants off? I would argue no.

Psycho is a master example of a film operating at two distinct levels. First, it has the ability to evoke visceral reactions in the audience, the surface level of the scene. We understand the characters are in danger, and we feel scared. We see the bad guy in the mirror’s reflection, and we are surprised—all films seem to master this feat easily. What doesn’t come as easily to most directors is the ability to operate at the second level. Hitchcock controls the aesthetics of the movie, altering the viewer’s perception of the scene and overwhelming their senses. Psycho is rich in such cinematographic genius, something that raises Psycho above movies like The Ring or Friday the 13^th.

In Phoenix, Arizona, Janet Leigh plays Marion Crane, a secretary having an affair with a stud muffin named Sam Loomis (great name, Loomis). Crane wants more from her adulterous partner, but they never come to a conclusion about their future. Crane works in a real estate agency and on a whim steals 40 G’s that were meant to purchase a home. As she is driving to her home she sees her boss and she becomes panicked. Her paranoia sends her fleeing to California. Along the way she is pulled over by a police officer and being further rattled, she decides to switch cars at a used car lot and stay at the Bates Motel. Norman Bates, played by Anthony Perkins in one of the best performances in film, greets her warmly at the motel. And the rest is film criticism history.

In an era of The Blob and Invaders from Mars, Psycho shocked and disturbed audiences. I will admit that I love this movie and I am biased, but I can also admit it has lost some of its shock value. Psycho’s violent scenes have lost some of their power. The infamous shower scene and the scene in the basement of Bates’ home have lost some of their ability to scare as CGI and special affects sweep our theaters. But this is just the first level of the film. The surface has become dulled and lost its gleam, yet the smooth 1950’s body is still beneath over six decades of technological advancement. One of the most innovative twists in this movie is that (spoiler alert) the main character is killed midway through the movie. Hitchcock allows us to become comfortable with Crane, we want her to succeed, to make it to California, we become attached. This makes her death even more devastating to the audience. The nature of the scene is first person. As much as we identify with Crane, we identify with the danger she is in, in the shower scene. We feel the danger, and thus Hitchcock is successful.

Psycho sets the groundwork for generations of horror films. Psycho creates two things, the lead female in distress and the psychological thrasher. First, Crane defies the norm. She breaks the patriarchal status quo: stealing from her work, sleeping with a married man, evading the police, and being flirtatious with a lonely man. This movie created the sexy starlet in danger. Also Hitchcock creates the most successful psychological killer in a movie to date. Think Mike Meyers in Halloween, or Jason in Friday the 13^th, these killers are Norman Bates’ direct descendants. Hitchcock shows that Bates is a troubled killer, but he also shows the human condition in Bates. The killings are sexually based and thus they are random. He does not kill by choice, rather he is “forced” to kill based on his sexual desires. Hitchcock plays on our innate fears of those around us. Psycho, and Bates can only be looked at through a psychological lens, another feat the Hitchcock mastered, when others had just attempted it.

Psycho defies normalcy. The quiet 1950’s home and family is nowhere to be found. The main character is killed halfway through the movie, it is in black and white, and even the quick-witted detective is killed off early. Hitchcock defies normalcy, and thus creates this film with the abnormal power to still scare our pants off decades later.

Conor Dowdle
Film Club President

Federico Fellini’s 8 ½ (1963)

In Federico Fellini’s 8 1/2 fantasy and emotional stratum coalesce in a visceral story centered on the egotism that motivated Fellini. This iconic film accounts Guido Anselmi’s (Marcello Mastroianni) attempt to make another hit film. Ultimately an autobiographical confession, based on Fellini’s own self-doubt and emotional state, 8 1/2 delves into the realms of narrative obfuscation and internalized moral skirmish through the self-righteous protagonist, Guido.

Federico Fellini’s last film shot in black and white, 8 1/2 exhibits radical changes from his previous neorealist films. This film centers on the theme of egotism and introspection, which is arguably what Fellini’s earlier films focus on also, but 8 1/2 tackles the subject differently. Instead of the focusing on a brooding search for acceptance of oneself and the absurdities of life Fellini tackles the subject of failure and the artistic process.

He diverges from his connection with Guido towards the end of the film. Plagued by procrastination and the malady of idleness, Guido retreats into himself, he becomes his primary focus. This self-involvement however is not constructive. Guido fails to complete the film he is working on, unlike Fellini. Fellini narrates the difficulty of the artistic process through Guido, describing the sensations that accompany.

Copious with surrealist and absurdist imagery Fellini draws the audience into a world similar and dissimilar to reality. Connected to the emotional response invoked by these scenes the audience fixates on ambiance of the film and less on empiricism. It enraptures the audience bringing them closer to the actualities of life that most commonplace cinema possesses.

It is the application of surrealism that makes this film so celebrated. Interweaving fantasy, memory, realism, and absurdism it is considered to be Fellini’s most influential film. By describing the difficulties of film making he created a masterpiece. This intimate exposure is what makes the film special. Not circumventing self-criticism or immorality Fellini admits to fault in a spritely way.

Lauded, this film has received two Academy Awards for Best Foreign Language Film and Best Costume Design was nominated for Best Director, Best Original Screenplay, and Best Art Direction. It has received praise from the New York Film Critics Circle, and received all seven prizes at the Italian Natioal Syndicate of Film Journalists.

Ella Coon
Film Club