Watching ‘Psycho’

Next week is Halloween, and scary movie season is back.

For some reason, everywhere I go this year I’m confronted with the question, “What’s the scariest movie you’ve ever seen?”

Having recently indulged in a rewatch with the family, I have been saying, “Silence of the Lambs,” but the truth is a classic of the genre made a greater impression. Any time the scariest movie question has come up in watercooler talk at the office, as an ice breaker question in meetings or as the topic of a podcast, I immediately think about a dark and stormy night in the mid-1990s when I embarked on a viewing of the Alfred Hitchock classic, “Psycho.”

At the time I was living in an apartment above the garage behind the historic home of Mercer English professor Mike Cass and his wife, Lynn, then publisher of Macon Magazine. They were wonderful landlords, and their collie, Eudora, had a pen next to the garage. She was a good guard dog and would howl along when I played the harmonica on the screened in porch.

With Eudora on watch, I felt it was safe enough to finally dive in and see what all the fuss was about with the 1960 horror classic. I also thought the fact it was shot in black-and-white might blunt my normal squeamishness over the sight of blood. How gory could a dark gray liquid be?

I underestimated the movie on so many levels, which is why it stuck with me for 30 years. I’ve not seen “Psycho” since that introductory viewing, and I didn’t attempt a re-watch for this reminiscence. It wasn’t necessary.

I remember being surprised by the sordidness of Janet Leigh’s circumstances. It must have been pretty scandalous in 1960 for a woman to be depicted on screen having an affair and embezzling money from her employer. 

I should have seen the morality tale that unfolded coming.

And how about that Norman Bates, huh? The polite young man killer in slasher films is such a trope now that we have been trained to immediately suspect every nice guy we see in movies and TV shows. In a movie named “Psycho,” there were plenty of clues that the helpful Norman might not be the most trustworthy hotelier.

The score also pulled a fast one on me. Of course I was familiar with the blaring strains of violins that punctuated the most famous scene, but I didn’t anticipate the general level of creepiness the music sustained throughout.

I am quite sure that if I were to plan a rewatch now, I wouldn’t have the same reaction. You can’t recreate an experience like that once you know what happens and when. In truth, rather than the scariest movie, I would say “Psycho” is more accurately described as the movie experience that scared me the most. I credit Hitchcock and blame the series of choices I made that inadvertently enhanced the tension.

It was dark.

It was late at night.

I was alone.

I didn’t spoil the movie ahead of time, which was easier to avoid back in the pre-internet world.

I had to continue to take showers for the rest of my life.

Horror isn’t my favorite genre. I tend to avoid it with my oft repeated excuse, “It’ll give me nightmares.” However, that throwaway line originated with my viewing of “Psycho.” Just revisiting this memory will speed up my showers for the next few weeks.

If you are a horror person and love being scared, this is your time of the year. Live it up.

And if you haven’t treated yourself to a viewing of “Psycho,” I recommend picking a dark and stormy night when you’re all alone, making some popcorn the old fashioned way and curling up on your sofa without any other lights on in the house. “Psycho” might not become your most frightening movie experience of all time, but it will be memorable.

Just wait until sunrise to take your shower.

What’s your favorite scary movie? What was your most frightening movie watching experience? Share your picks in a comment below, so we can make your trauma a collective nightmare.