Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho is a movie that really needs no introduction. Still highly ranking amongst some of the Master of Suspense’s greatest works as well as the best horror film ever made, and rightly so, Psycho is one of our favourite films around here. A masterful example of building mystery and tension along a winding road, the movie holds up incredibly after 58 years. It isn’t just the work of Hitchcock that excels the material, of course, as the script is also wonderful and tightly written. But words on a page can only go so far, and their power lays at the hands of the actor. And though everyone brings great work, this is, after a certain point, a one man show.

     While one can call the role of Norman Bates, in essence, a supporting role (supporting lead, even), and Alfred Hitchcock is a great director, it is worth saying that Psycho lived or died by the character. If Norman Bates had been miscast, it wouldn’t have had the power or the response to it as it did, and who knows how it would have ended up being looked upon in hindsight. But it wasn’t.

     Anthony Perkins was always a fantastic actor, receiving a Best Supporting Actor Academy Award nomination for his second movie, Friendly Persuasion, four years prior to this. The fact that he’s mostly remembered for this film is kind of a shame, but how could he not be? He gives a subtle performance in this that still overshadows everything else around him, and I feel as though there hasn’t been enough talk about how difficult the role of Norman Bates is. He is introduced as complete innocent, a man who is still very child-like and sweet and believably harmless. He’s pretty much the poster boy for one of those people you meet who would be considered as one of the nicest you’ve ever met. Any kind of awkwardness you may feel comes primarily from the fact that you know he probably hasn’t had that much social interaction but still means well. He’s kind and, most importantly, genuine.
     Then something happens.

     Marion and Norman sit down to have sandwiches and chat after she’s all set up in her room. Norman, having been put on the subject of his mother by Marion, complains about her, in a nice way, and talks about how sometimes he just wants to walk away. When Marion mentions if he’s ever thought of putting her in a home, Norman immediately shifts. Perkins face goes blank, almost emotionless, and stiffens, before going on about how the people that look after all of those in mental institutions look down on their patients and how his mother is harmless “like one of those stuffed birds.” Then, he reverts back to ‘himself’ almost as quick, like nothing happened.

     Marion reacts to this the way women probably have to guys that try to start conversations in bars.

     I should mention here, I love Janet Leigh in this film as well. She has a very important role in making sure the audience is brought into the world and the story proper, keeping them interested in her character in a lot of scenes that end up being her driving and thinking things through in her head, as well as facial reactions. She does a fantastic job in making Marion someone who is never really antagonized, and you feel for her and what she is going through even though she may have not made the best choice.
     She sells this moment between the two of them absolutely marvellously. Though she reacts the way she does, she plays it off as less full-on fear of Norman and more of a shock. This is like having that friend that you always know is soft spoken and then, one day, they lose it on a topic of conversation and you realize they have this boiling, passionate anger or hatred towards something. It may be something you agree with, and makes you as angry, but you’re still going to have that shock at this moment of lashing out from someone that you didn’t think had it in them. It changes your opinion of them, even though you obviously don’t think that they’re dangerous or anything.

     And that’s what’s so great about Perkins here. You know something is wrong, that there is that underlying darkness there, but the genuine niceness of his character from before never feels like an act. Up until this point, literally a few lines prior leading up to this, his most rebellious and defining act, in his mind, would be turning away from his mother and walking away when she scolds and yells at him. Afterwards, he smiles and half-heartedly laughs it off, as if knowing that he messed up in saying too much or making her feel uncomfortable. He plays it off as a seeming lapse in judgment, and you buy it because he’s been so obviously, incredibly sheltered from the real world and any kind of real social interaction from other human beings.

     Even when things start hitting the fan, you never fully assume that Norman is necessarily a dangerous individual. Even when he acts less ‘playful’, so to speak, when he’s hounded by Loomis, you just see him as Norman. He’s someone who obviously would get flustered and confused when dealing with such in-your-face questioning not because he’s guilty, but because this isn’t what he’s used to. Yet this balancing act is so incredibly and perfectly performed by Anthony Perkins that when the big reveal comes, you understand and buy it.

     It’s a tightrope act that Perkins plays magnificently. I mentioned above that Psycho is one of our favourite films around here, and in all honesty, Perkins as Norman Bates is one of my personal favourite roles in a film. You genuinely like Norman, to the point that, with the few things we know and hear about the relationship between him and his mother, you feel bad for him. It would have been easy for a lesser actor to make him way too creepy in those early scenes, and I don’t doubt that that would have ruined the mood and atmosphere of the film. His performance lends towards the mystery of it all as you kind of don’t want him to be involved. It works.

     After all, we all go a little mad sometimes.