It's not much of a murder-mystery(we have an idea who the killer is), there
aren't many shocks(three jolts: the shower, the stairs, and the cellar), and
there's minimal suspense(mostly it's exposition and build-up), but "Psycho"
is still quite chilling. Why? I think it's all in Anthony Perkins'
tightly-controlled performance, his boyish good looks(which can go either
way, gangly-cute or crazed & disconnected), and his eyes, which are frantic.
I didn't care much for Simon Oakland's psychology report at the end(how did
he manage to get so much out of Norman Bates' "mother"?), but the film is
silvery black-and-white, beautiful-eerie, and the smooth camerawork and
clever production touches make it fun to watch on repeated viewings. It's
not exactly a black comedy--it's much too merciless towards it's characters
to be funny--but it does entertain on it's modest scale and I discover
something new in the woodwork every time I watch. ***1/2 out of
****.
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