Check-In at the Bates Motel
There is a dream a lot of us Psycho fans have. It goes like this:
"What if you could see Psycho without knowing ANYTHING about the story?"
I didn't get to. When Psycho entered my consciousness (in 1965 with its first re-release), kids on the block and family members got the word out fast: "Oh, that's the one with the stabbing of Janet Leigh in the shower...and the killer is Tony Perkins in a dress, thinking he's his own mother!"
Wah--WAH (cue sour trumpets.)
Oh, well -- Psycho STILL affected me, excited me, stuck around in my head for a long time.
But what if....you didn't know ANYTHING?
Well, Janet Leigh's check-in to the Bates Motel would sure feel like a different scene, yes? And yet, still...there's something ominous to it.
Let's back up. In one of the great sequences in ANY movie, Marion Crane's frenzied night drive though a driving storm with Herrmann's strings a sawin' away and our blood pressure rising just from the craziness of it...suddenly gives way to utter silence(Herrmann's strings cut off as if the conductor just got stabbed.) We just hear the drizzle of the rain, watch it splash on the windshield as we hear the wiper blades swish and chop and there...it...is:
BATES MOTEL -- VACANCY.
Cinematic greatness on a grand scale. In 1960...mystery and curiosity. What's gonna happen at this motel? Forever after: BATES MOTEL -- VACANCY is as meaningful as movies get.
Marion pulls up, stops the car, gets out by scooting across the passenger seat(to avoid the rain) and examines the premises: a door open to an office that is closed, dark...empty. (How chilling this is TODAY -- that office is like a "stage waiting to be lit," to be INHABITED, by Norman Bates and various guests -- Marion, Arbogast, Sam, and Lila. But for now, it is a space full of nothing, and nobody.)
Marion strolls the porch and looks up at there it is: the Bates mansion, seen for the first time from that classic angle: from down the hill to the left(it had been seen before that, but was very hard to make out, up in the rainy darkness above the motel, its windows like gleaming eyes). And we see the lit window on the upstairs floor. And then the camera goes closer(Marion's eyes are focussing) and there she is: Mother, gliding across the lit window like a ghostly apparition yet solid and of flesh. (The shot by shot classicism of Psycho is astounding to me.)
Marion missed the sign on the outside wall that says "Ring Bell for Service" so she rather brusquely gets back in her car and honks the horn loudly. Its a mark of Marion's pushy forthrightness all through the film. She wants SERVICE. Now. (But oh how lucky she would have been if she just drove away.)
A young, thin male figure appears, runs down the hill, appears before Marion(hey, its ANTHONY PERKINS! What a cute guy; we forgot he was in this movie) and defuses Marion's customer-is-always-right impatience.
"I'm sorry , I didn't hear you in all this rain. Go ahead in, please."
And in Marion goes, following Norman as he turns on the light in the office, and circles round to the service side of the motel office desk. Hitchcock here shows his deft flair for the choreography of human movement; Norman and Marion assume their positions across from each other with crisp moves.
There will be three major sequences set in this motel office: Marion's; Arbogast's, and Sam and Lila's. And each time, Hitchocck films the scene DIFFERENTLY. Here, he relies on back and forth over the shoulder shots of Marion and Norman, from a short distance, edging in for close-ups as the scene goes on. The room is well-lit for night. Later, with Arbogast, the lighting will go all nourish and shadowy; later still, with Sam and Lila in the light of day, the room will be flooded with daylight. This first motel office scene is "in between."
The first line in the office scene is Norman's:
"Dirty night." An interesting choice of words. Not "rainy night" or "stormy night," or "bad night." Dirty night. There's something dirty about the word "Dirty."
Marion responds by getting down to business.
Marion: Do you have a vacancy? (Its what you ask, ever since I learned this line, I use it at any motel or hotel I enter without a reservation.)
Norman: We have twelve vacancies Twelve cabins , twelve vacancies.
Aha! A little joke. This handsome young fellow is witty. But it is a SAD joke, yes. He's telling Marion that this motel doesn't do much business. And it will become a running joke -- he will say it to Arbogast later. And it becomes a SCARY joke. Twelve cabins, twelve vacancies. Marion is ALL ALONE here.
Norman: They moved away the highway.
Now, the sad little joke becomes sadder still. We realize: this business will never recover, NORMAN is all alone.
Marion: I thought I'd gotten off the main road
Norman: Nobody comes here anymore unless they've done that.
Prosaic and profound.