THE AISLE SEAT - "PSYCHO"
by Mike McGranaghan
When I heard director Gus Van Sant (Good Will Hunting) was going to remake Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho, I thought it was a very, very bad idea. Psycho is one of my all-time favorite movies - not to mention a classic - and remaking it seemed to be inviting criticism. Worse, Van Sant announced that he wasn't just going to remake Psycho, he was going to "recreate" it, duplicating the entire film shot-for-shot using the same Joseph Stefano screenplay. First, I was angry (how dare they tamper with a classic?), then just stunned (do they really think this is a good idea?). I have to confess, though, that the more I thought about it, the more I was willing to admit that a shot-by-shot recreation was an interesting idea. Not a good idea, mind you, but an interesting one.
I entered the theater with an extreme sense of curiosity. Putting aside all my doubts, I settled into my seat, vowing to give the movie a fair shake. I even avoided the temptation to watch the original again before seeing the remake. Realistically, I knew that it would be impossible to lose all memories of the original (and I don't think the remake expects the audience to), but I was determined to view this Psycho for what it was and what it was trying to do.
The movie began with the famous linear credit sequence and Bernard Herrmann's eerie musical score (adapted by my favorite film composer, Danny Elfman). I could feel the excitement building inside me. Was I wrong about this? Could it possibly work? Is this actually an inspired idea whose time has come?
No.
The fact is, if you've ever seen Hitchcock's Psycho, this will seem like what it is - a pointless remake. Vince Vaughn (Swingers) takes over the role of Norman Bates. I like Vaughn a great deal, but he has the thankless task of aping one of the greatest performances in horror history. The rules of doing a shot-for-shot recreation dictate that the actor can't stray too far from what Anthony Perkins did in the same role. Vaughn has little room for his own interpretation of the character; he's tied down to what we already know about Norman Bates. It doesn't help that Vaughn - although talented - has a natural smart-ass quality that always shines through and works counter to Norman's oedipal creepiness. When he shows up dressed as "Mother" during the infamous climax, it's almost laughably funny. I kept waiting for Vaughn to yell his Swingers rallying cry: "Vegas, baby, Vegas!"
The other cast members have it a little easier because their characters were never as vivid as Norman. Anne Heche plays Marion Crane (the Janet Leigh part), Julianne Moore is her sister, Viggo Mortensen is Marion's lover. The best performance comes from William H. Macy, who plays private investigator Arbogast and actually made me put Martin Balsam's superb work in the same role out of my mind. Macy has that same ordinary shlub quality that Balsam did; it works effectively in both versions. I also thought it was a stroke of genius to have Robert Forster (so wonderful in Jackie Brown) play the police psychologist, giving that unnecessarily deadening explanation of Norman's psychoses at the end. The scene has always been out of place, but Forster brings a subtle sense of parody to it. There's even a tip of the hat to Hitchcock's notorious cameos. In the 1960 Psycho, he was briefly seen through an office window as he stood on the sidewalk; unless my eyes deceived me, Van Sant uses Forrest Gump-style technology to insert Hitchcock into the frame - talking to Van Sant himself!
Perhaps one of the most shocking things about the new Psycho is that it seemed a lot slower to me than the original. I remember seeing Hitchcock's version for the first time and being riveted, like things were happening at a breathless pace. In contrast, the remake seems to drag on and on. The shots are the same, the running time is about the same, the order is the same, and yet it never seems as fast-paced as it did when Hitchcock filmed it. Again, everything in the movie is tied down to the original, forbidding it to have a life of its own.
I also couldn't help noticing that there is a sense of raw terror missing. The original's black-and-white photography gave everything a horrific starkness that the color photography here can't match. Whereas the sudden bursts of violence once seemed brutal, they now seem more stylized, like those in a conventional slasher film. Take the shower scene, one of the most famous sequences in all of cinema. As a child, I had seen it on clip shows and highlight reels a hundred times; when I first saw Psycho start to finish with the shower scene in context, I was terrified by it, even though I knew it was coming. In the remake, I obviously still knew what was coming, but it didn't phase me. Something's missing. Color robs the scene of its intensity, drains it of its horror. Same with the sudden murder of Arbogast on that wooden staircase.
I don't think the remade Psycho (I have a hard time calling it Van Sant's Psycho) is very effective. It was a lousy idea to begin with. However, I'd be lying if I said I didn't relish the chance to see this for myself. I'm not thrilled that someone had the idea to remake a classic in this manner. But someone did, and since that cannot be changed, I was intrigued to see it with my own eyes and discuss it with other Hitchcock buffs later. It's more fascinating as an filmmaking exercise than as a movie. Let's just hope that this was a one-shot deal so we don't have to watch the pointless desecration a classic film again.
(
out of four)
Note: If you enjoyed the original Psycho, check out the book "Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho" by Stephen Rebello, available from Harper Perennial.
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