Bates Motel (1987) - Fresh Essay and Final Remarks

Bates Motel (1987), you might say, was one of the first to create a series “multiverse” as it forgoes the second and third films, deciding instead to focus on an institution patient played by Bud Cort, who befriends Norman when the two are introduced by their doctor inside. Cort even tells us in narration that Norman sort of served as a surrogate to him, eulogizing him at his funeral. So the film kills off Norman altogether and instead decides to focus on the Bates Motel as a character instead of Norman. I think if you went into this as a Pilot for a series, not long after Perkins released his sequel to the franchise in theaters (to little fanfare), thinking it might focus on Norman’s exploits at the Bates, disappointment would be an understatement. I realize those behind the creation of the Pilot and the series idea needed to somehow create the means for a fresh start, with a clean slate, so to the speak, and maybe felt that do this Norman needed to be completely out of the picture. I think the critical mistake was killing him off instead of at least allowing him to live in the institution as a safeguard—a “break in case of emergency” failsafe, you could say—because in committing to this, it sort of functions similarly to Friday the 13^th: The Series: there is the name but if what pop culture attaches to it is purposely missing the ensuing disinterest or outright dismissal of what is offered instead must have been anticipated. How could it not? Just look at “Halloween: Season of the Witch” as a case in point.

But if you do decide to remove Norman from the series, what is offered as an alternative really needed to land with some impact…not a thud. No matter of spunk Lori Petty has can salvage a new story involving the Bates Motel if what provided doesn’t offer some degree of tension or weird atmosphere. But on television in the late 80s what was allowed already meant that those involved in the creative process for the Pilot were limited in what they could show content-wise. And the Bates Motel/Norman story wasn’t particularly PG television content for the family hour. So in order to hopefully produce a series for NBC, Rothstein tries to offer a collection of characters (and proposes stories of others who visit as customers) at the Bates as series regulars—Cort as the meek, sad-eyed hotel-success hopeful, Petty as the spirited cook-wannabe, and Moses Gunn as the contractor who gets his chance to renovate the hotel and live onsite (with Gregg Henry as the bank loan officer secretly harboring an agenda)—and a third act story involving suicide prevention where a three-time divorcee takes a room at the Bates to slit her wrists in a tub, interrupted by the spirits of teens from the 50s who had killed themselves (!) sort of serving as an ill-advised example of what might be offered as anthology week-to-week tales involving visitors to the hotel and the supernatural. When Cort and company renovate the Bates and give it a desert motif look, complete with a water fountain and café, removing what made the setting so eerie, taking away its mystique and sinister spell, only the Bates home still resting on the hill remains to remind us of why “Psycho” was such a success. And the syrupy score Rothstein includes and Cort addressing us the viewer to visit the Bates, not a lick of suspense left at all, fans of “Psycho” will need to go watch one of the Perkins’ films, even Garris’ fourth film, in order to get the bad taste out.

 I was surprised to see that the television film was included in a four-disc set I almost bought at Walmart one afternoon but never did…it was nice that fans of the Psycho series had the option to own “Bates Motel” (1987) but I can’t imagine many will want to watch it more than a few times. I remember my uncle telling me way back then that he felt nothing for it and I was even underwhelmed as a child back then. And after watching the first three “Psycho” films just recently, “Bates Motel” certainly makes you shrug. I mean when Cort and Picardo’s doc speak so sweetly about Norman while he’s in the institution, and “poor” Norman is often considered such a victim of his cruel mother, this show bends over backwards to make him completely sympathetic. Marion Crane, Sam Loomis, and Lila are never even mentioned. 

If you are a diehard like me of the Hitchcock classic, this series does really only hint at it and to completely alter the look of the creepy Bates Motel, I can’t imagine how that would get over with anybody watching it on television in their home. And the unfortunate decision to use Henry as a villain using Norman’s mom as a means to scare Cort away, removing the mystique of a possible ghost haunting the Bates home, while Petty has a taped recording of his criminality (he wants the property and wishes to fraudulently screw Cort out of the Bates) in order for the loan to be paid over a period of time instead of a lot at once, just serves as a final error in creative judgment…if you tell the audience there is no Mama Bates haunting the premises and cosmetically change the look of the Bates, what interest will an audience have to watch this supposed show? Nostalgia will only get you so far. 

I think after fifteen or so years, you barely remember the Pilot and it does give you that brief, ever so brief first arrival as Cort sees the Bates for the first time, eventually encountering Petty who had been squatting there. When you see the Bates Motel and Bates home, it grabs you much like when we are introduced to the location at the onset of Perkins’ “Psycho III” (1986), just a year prior to this series…rundown, left to ruins, a relic practically forgotten, willed to Cort by Norman Bates, it is a triumph of spookhouse atmosphere. 

While the Pilot gradually sifts the atmosphere from the presentation (there are a few good bits involving bodies found where a construction worker quips, “this isn’t a hotel, it is a burial ground”, even commenting on Norman’s father, and why his mother treated him so terribly), the Bates home is almost a Universal Studios prop rather than a true character as it is in the films…those involved in the Pilot seemed to lean on it for shots but then offer Henry as a trickster in costume with a cackling voice. If the suicide prevention tale doesn’t stop you dead—I thought this just takes the viewer right out of what was supposed to appeal to anyone watching the series—Henry and Petty dressed as a ghoulish Halloween costume Mama Bates probably will. I couldn’t help feel as the Pilot ends that this was just a very bad idea conceived to capitalize on certain parts of what “Psycho” (1960) contributed to pop culture history without offering anything of quality conceptually or creatively.

 It was an approach looking to perhaps offer something new instead of simply following formula (which, by Part III, was starting to diminish in interest or popularity), but when NBC realized that Rothstein’s proposal with the Pilot was to go completely in a different direction, they passed. As did anyone watching the Pilot. Sometimes the heart is in the right place but your idea and execution leave much to be desired. Nonetheless there will inevitably be those who see value in the show. And those who love Petty will want to see this if just as a curio…or just to see her in a chicken suit.