The shooting at Fort Hood, Texas, last week and the execution of the D.C. sniper on Tuesday served as painful reminders of the atrocities man is capable of. Psychology, biology and other sciences all have their take on what drives people over the brink, but two of the best that look at the depths of depravity come from the cinema: Francis Ford Coppola’s “Apocalypse Now” and Alfred Hitchcock’s “Psycho.” While the style and scope of the movies are radically different, both attempt to address the darker side of human nature by showing it to audiences.
Courtesy of Miramax Films and Paramount Pictures
In many ways, it’s astonishing that “Apocalypse Now” is around to talk about at all. Released in 1979, the production was mired in delays and mishaps of every conceivable variety. The sets on location in the Philippines were hit by hurricanes and floods, star Martin Sheen nearly died from tropical disease, the movie was fantastically over budget and Marlon Brando caused a unique train wreck all his own (we’ll get to that in a moment). Yet in spite of all these problems, “Apocalypse Now” remains near the apex of Coppola’s directorial career, an achievement surpassed only by “The Godfather” and (perhaps) “The Godfather, Part II.”
Inspired by Joseph Conrad’s novel “Heart of Darkness” and set against the backdrop of the Vietnam War, “Apocalypse Now” relates the journey of Army Capt. Benjamin Willard (Sheen) as he travels up the fictional Nung River to go after the renegade Col. Kurtz (Brando), whose methods have become “unsound.” As Willard continues up the river toward Kurtz, he encounters increasingly disturbing evidence of those unsound methods and how much the war has damaged everyone involved. As one character puts it about halfway through the film, Willard and his crew are in “the asshole of the world.”
“Apocalypse Now,” contains a number of standout sequences, none more famous than the helicopter attack on the beach about 45 minutes into the film. With Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries,” triumphantly blaring in the background, the helicopters lay waste to a Viet Cong compound with ruthless efficiency. Since the film was made prior to the advent of computer-generated effects, this scene had to be filmed with old fashioned stunts, doubles and explosions, which makes it all the more impressive. The level of detail is such it appears as if Coppola had an actual army following him around.
The way all of these sequences are shot also lends power to the overall effect of “Apocalypse Now” on the viewer. All of the jungle locations are shot so that the lush, sumptuous colors make a forceful impression. But there’s also a dreamlike effect to many of these moments, or rather a nightmarish one. This effect is heightened by the striking sound design by Walter Murch, a frequent collaborator of Coppola’s. An early flashback by Willard of helicopters flying through the jungle fades to him sitting in a hotel in Saigon, the helicopter blades replaced by a spinning fan, with the rotor sound still echoing in Willard’s head. The seamless sound transition illustrates how Willard has already been impacted by his previous tours, yet is still eager to get to the front and fight “Charlie” for some reason.
Yet for all the praiseworthy aspects of “Apocalypse Now,” the entire production is nearly undone by Marlon Brando’s dismal portrayal of Kurtz. From the moment he appears on screen, with about 30 minutes left to go in the film, the movie goes into free fall. Brando babbles on about the horrors he’s witnessed and how the generals back in Saigon lack the will to really take the fight to the VC while spouting off random bits of poetry and philosophy. Instead of sounding profound in any way, Kurtz comes off as a mumbling, incoherent wreck of a man. It’s a shame that Brando threatens to derail all that’s come before, because the scenes in his camp are spectacularly gorgeous, with shadows looming over everyone amidst splashes of psychedelic yellow and orange.
However, Brando does have one moment where his pompous bravado fades and he offers an insight into the god-awful mess that was Vietnam. As he breathes his last breath, Kurtz’s eyes go wide and he whispers, “The horror…the horror.” Even though the words are said softly, Brando still manages to infuse them with urgent terror. They are the words of a man who has crawled in the deepest corners of hell, but cannot find his way back out. It’s a haunting ending to a haunting movie.
While “Apocalypse Now” is Coppola’s statement about the universal evil embedded in us all, “Psycho” is Alfred Hitchcock’s case study of one singularly delusional individual. But the madness consuming that person is uniquely twisted, and thus one of cinema’s most fascinating and repulsive figures is revealed.
Yet “Psycho” takes its time before we figure out just what kind of ride we’re in for. The film opens by introducing us to Marion Crane (Janet Leigh), a secretary in Phoenix who steals $40,000 so she can run off and get married. For the first third of the movie’s running length, it looks like this will be a typical suspense thriller as Marion has to evade the police to make it to her destination. Desperate and tired, she winds up at the rundown Bates Motel and meets the manager, Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins).
They have dinner together, and Marion engages Norman in a conversation about being trapped in bad situations. While Marion convinces herself she has to return the money, Norman can’t bring himself to leave the motel, even if it’s falling apart. After all, who would take care of his mother?
“A man’s best friend is his mother,” Norman says quietly. He sounds sincere, but there’s something just fractionally off in his voice. Norman and Marion part, she goes into her room to take a shower, and then…well, everybody knows what happens then. The movie then shifts to the perspective of Marion’s boyfriend and sister as they attempt to track her down and also end up as guests at the Bates Motel.
Courtesy of Paramount Pictures and Universal Pictures
The famous shower scene is only one of several genuine shocks in “Psycho.” I won’t reveal what the others are, but they’re all effective because of two factors: pacing and tone. By making sure the shocks are carefully set up, Hitchcock makes sure they lose none of their impact.
The pacing in “Psycho” is determined by Hitchcock’s decision to let us get to know the characters and set them up in believable scenes. The first kill in “Psycho” (there are only two) doesn’t happen until well into the film. But we care when we see the knife plunging toward Marion because Hitchcock has established her as a complex, sympathetic character. She’s flawed, but fundamentally a decent person. She’s even ready to redeem herself before her untimely demise.
The other critical character in “Psycho” is Norman Bates. Perkins does a phenomenal job of hinting at the deep layers bubbling underneath his shy exterior. Norman welcomes Marion and the other guests with a very open demeanor and even has an “aw shucks” quality to him, his hands jammed in his pockets as he makes corny jokes. But when his mother comes up in conversation, his eyes focus, the stuttering stops, a slight edge creeps into his voice. The role proved to define Perkins’ career and stands out as one of the creepiest performances this side of Hannibal Lecter.
But it’s the composition of the film that pulls all these threads together. In particular, the Bates Motel and Norman’s house on the hill behind it are very gloomy, disturbing buildings. When Marion and Norman are talking in the motel, Norman’s collection of stuffed birds hang over her and look as if they’re ready to strike. The black and white color scheme makes the atmosphere that much creepier and is used for tremendous impact in the scenes in the motel.
The influence of “Psycho” on the horror and thriller genres cannot be understated. It’s the first in a long line of films about bad guys with knives stalking innocent victims. The line was accelerated by John Carpenter’s equally scary “Halloween,” which lifts many elements from “Psycho” (the heroes’ names are the same and Jamie Lee Curtis is the daughter of Janet Leigh). But “Psycho” paved the way, and stands up as a remarkable example of how to give an audience thrills and chills.
Contact CU Independent Entertainment Editor Rob Ryan at Rryan@colorado.edu.
