Analysis of the Swamp in Psycho

Analysis of the Swamp in Psycho Adrian Secter Murder, Candy and Chains: An Analysis of the Swamp in Psycho â€Å" Show me a sane man and I will cure him for you.† — Carl Jung Understanding a swamp is to understand what exists in shadow. Not the shadow of night or shroud, but that of the mute. The marginal. To know the scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho where Marion Crane’s corpse-filled car is disposed of, is to know the film. Bogs have always been a place in flux, the last remainder of a primordial ooze. They serve as a place where strange organisms, many of which cannot survive elsewhere, can breed and grow. The same holds true for ideas. For a man such as Norman Bates, the swamp affords him (and his mother) the luxury of anonymity. Removed from the scrutiny of dry land, the rigors of reality, Bates’ imagination does as swamp creatures do. It experiments, it mutates and most importantly, it uses its natural habitat to dispose of any outsiders who threaten it. Given that t he absorptive nature of the swamp scene is both literal and metaphorical, Michael Fried’s â€Å"Absorption and Theatricality† readily lends itself to this analysis. While Fried ostensibly concerns himself with Denis Diderot and 18 th century French paintings, the case he presents all but begs to be deftly applied to film. A plea heard anachronistically by Psycho . This 1960 film is replete with striking scenes, and indeed it could be argued that the movie is comprised entirely of such scenes. It is however, the alluded to â€Å"swamp scene† that is most pertinent. In this scene, Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) hides the car that his most recent victim, Marion Crane (Janet Leigh). After murdering Crane in her motel room and disposing of all the evidence thereof, Crane’s body and 1957 Ford remain. Cleverly vanishing both corpse and car, Bates wraps Crane in a shower curtain, dumps her in the trunk and rolls the car into a nearby swamp. All of this expositi on appears fairly straightforward, and would be, were the film not directed by Alfred Hitchcock. With Hitchcock behind the camera, the scene is elevated beyond mere plot and into a realm worthy of Fried and analysis. The crucial point of this scene is that the only remaining proof of Crane’s murder, the car, does not go quietly into the swamp. In filming this descent of woman, Hitchcock positions the car on a controllable platform, allowing him to adjust the speed with which the car is lowered into the murky gloom. The car is swallowed up, but only piecemeal. At first it proceeds smoothly, as the muddy waters seep into the front of the car. Then it stops. Half of a bone-white car still sticks out of the darkness. The trunk, with Crane inside, stares back at a watchful Bates. He stares back, munching on candy corn. The water finds its strength again and consumes more of the car. Then it stops. The trunk lies like a Nile crocodile, its back above the water. On the shore, Bates continues watching. At last, the water covers the trunk and its morbid contents. The camera lingers on the last bubbles, expiring as they flee towards the shore.