OK, ALL YOU movie buffs out there, name the picture that began the trend of blockbusters opening "wide" — in theaters all over the country on the same day — during the summer.
If you said "Jaws," you get fallback points. That movie really did start the trend that continues today. But there was a forerunner 15 years earlier.
Would you believe "Psycho"?
That's right, Alfred Hitchcock's chiller was the first movie to have an early premiere in New York (debuting on June 16, 1960), then in Chicago, Boston, Philadelphia and Los Angeles — followed by simultaneous openings across the country.
Of course, it didn't open in all that many theaters by today's standards but definitely pointed the way for what was to come. (Actually, "Jaws" only opened "wide" in 464 theaters in 1975, which is nothing compared to, say, "Shrek Forever After," which opened on 4,468 screens!)
I discovered this tidbit while exploring David Thomson's book "The Moment of Psycho," an engrossing 184-page quick-read on the subject, written in Thomson's chatty style as if he were engaging you in a conversation in your living room.
Knowing that "Psycho's" 50th anniversary was at hand, I read it through — and then found myself researching the film further, just because it's so fascinating on so many levels, and its impact on the culture of cinema cannot be overstated.
Not that many films have had such an impact on me that I remember when I saw them for the first time. But "Psycho" is one.
It was summer 1960 in Southern California, where I grew up — and at the time one of the major attractions of going to the movies was the air-conditioned auditorium in a single-screen, stand-alone movie house. I can still remember the banner dangling below the marquee: "Cool Air-Conditioning," with blue letters that looked like icicles. On the marquee: "Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho — see it from the beginning."
I was 12 when my parents took me with them to see Hitchcock's latest, a black-and-white fright film. And why not? I had seen Hitchcock's previous film with them — "North By Northwest" — and loved it. And we had all seen Janet Leigh's two previous movies together, the fluffy comedies "Who Was That Lady?" and "The Perfect Furlough."
So we went in with certain expectations. It was Hitchcock! It was Janet Leigh! How bad could it be?
Awesome bad, as it turns out. Not only did it scare the socks off me while I watched it, but I gave up showers and went back to taking baths. And I wasn't the only one.
So let's look at some of the things — besides the shower scene being one of the most famous moments in movie history — that make "Psycho" stand out.
Hitchcock was ensconced at Paramount Pictures with one more film on his contract, but the studio balked at "Psycho," afraid it would bring down the wrath of the industry's censors. So Hitch financed it himself, filming primarily on the Universal studio backlot and keeping the budget to approximately $800,000.
Studio contracts often allowed a star/director to make a movie "on loan" to another studio, which is what Hitchcock had done with his previous film, "North By Northwest," giving MGM a hit. Paramount didn't want that to happen again, so, despite misgivings, the studio agreed to distribute "Psycho" — but only after Hitchcock deferred his contractual directing fee of $250,000 in exchange for 60 percent ownership of the picture. "Psycho" became his biggest hit, and Hitch got rich. (This was his last Paramount film; he finished out his career at Universal, which now also has rights to "Psycho.")
"Psycho" was the first American movie to forbid entry after the film began, as indicated by a cardboard standee of Hitch outside theaters. Exhibitors balked because, at the time, patrons regularly came in during the middle of a movie, then stayed through the next showing until they caught up. But lines around the block convinced them that Hitchcock was right — and eventually the nation's moviegoing habits changed.
Hitchcock shot the film quickly using the crew from his half-hour television anthology program, "Alfred Hitchcock Presents." He filmed it in black and white for two reasons: It was cheaper than color at the time, and he feared color would make the shower scene too gory and hard to take.
The brief but shocking shower sequence was the most difficult aspect to film. It took a full week and used 77 different camera angles. The blood is actually chocolate syrup. A knife plunged into a melon created the stabbing sound.
Hitchcock had planned for the shower scene to run without music, with only ambient sound. But composer Bernard Herrmann wrote the famous "screeching violins" piece anyway, and when Hitchcock heard it, he changed his mind. (Along with John Williams' theme for "Jaws," it is considered the scariest and most famous movie-music cue of all time.)
The members of the censorship board objected to a toilet being shown onscreen and scenes of Janet Leigh in her bra, but they particularly objected to one shot in the shower sequence, demanding that Hitchcock make an edit. Knowing how fast the sequence flies by, Hitch waited a few days and then resubmitted the same print with no changes. The censors watched it again, thinking the change had been made, and allowed the film to pass muster.
"Psycho" was the first film to kill off its primary star in the first third of the movie, a real risk at the time.
Anthony Perkins' first-rate performance as Norman Bates haunted his career thereafter until he embraced the character for a string of sequels more than 20 years later.
In 1960, the reviews were almost entirely negative, although by the end of the year even some critics who hated it had changed their minds. Today, of course, it's considered a classic.
"Psycho" is one of the most imitated films in history, from a string of similar black-and-white B-movies in the 1960s ("Strait-Jacket," "Maniac," "Paranoiac," "Hysteria," "Fanatic," "Homicidal," etc.) to reverential references in movies of the 1970s and '80s ("Halloween," "Dressed to Kill," etc.) to a nearly shot-for-shot remake in 1998 (Gus Van Sant's "Psycho") to lampoons in myriad movies and TV shows ("High Anxiety," "The Simpsons," etc.).
And there's much more. But let's allow Hitchcock the last word, from his famous interviews with critic/filmmaker Fran?is Truffaut:
"It's the kind of picture in which the camera takes over. Of course, since critics are more concerned with the scenario, it won't necessarily get you the best notices, but you have to design your film just as Shakespeare did his plays — for the audience."
e-mail: hicks@desnews.com