"It's sad, when a mother has to speak the words that condemn her own son. But I couldn't allow them to believe that I would commit murder. They'll put him away now, as I should have years ago. He was always bad, and in the end he intended to tell them I killed those girls and that man... as if I could do anything but just sit and stare, like one of his stuffed birds. They know I can't move a finger, and I won't. I'll just sit here and be quiet, just in case they do... suspect me. They're probably watching me. Well, let them. Let them see what kind of a person I am. I'm not even going to swat that fly. I hope they are watching... they'll see. They'll see and they'll know, and they'll say, 'Why, she wouldn't even harm a fly...'." These last few lines are really responsible for ensuring Psycho's legacy. If the film had ended on the psychiatrist's plodding, pandering speech that spells out Norman Bates' condition in excruciating detail, we might not think so well of it. Bates has completely retreated into his own mind, the manifestation of his mother having finally taken over. The juxtaposition of Anthony Perkins ever so slightly off-center against a stark white background with an elderly woman's voice stating her case is profoundly chilling. And just when we think it can't get any creepier, he tilts his head down and grins, staring directly into the camera.
Audrey Fox is an ex-film student, which means that she prefers to spend her days in the dark, watching movies and pondering the director's use of diegetic sound. She currently works as an entertainment writer, joyfully rambling about all things film and television related. Add her on Twitter at @audonamission and check out her film blog at 1001moviesandbeyond.com.
