Well, mother is, umm, what’s the phrase? She’s not quite herself today.
I love William H Macy in this movie, as Arbogast, but his hat nearly eats his head it’s so friggin’ big. He is kind of that rather likable but pesky character that kind of needles the truth out of you, resilient at attempts of evasion or avoidance towards his questions. His size and face don’t exactly strike fear in those he questions but the method behind his interrogation is more than enough to get some inkling of possible guilt or criminal act. Once again, Van Sant can’t help himself during that crucial scene where Arbogast talks to Marion’s sister, Lila (played by a motor-mouthed Julianne Moore) inside a phone booth (God, I miss phone booths, such devices are so cinematic to me for some reason) and the box is located near a bar, I guess, because you can hear wailing and rowdy roars in the background (this and the scene in the Phoenix motel room where Marion and Sam are in bed and you can hear a couple in the next room gettin’ ziggy with it..). When Macy’s time in the film is over and he gets a couple of gashes on the face from mommy’s knife, Van Sant places the image of a naughty woman with a mask and a cow in the middle of the road as inserts, really pissing a ton of Psycho fans off in the process. This is the kind of crap that brought such vitriol to the remake.
Let me get my walkman.