How Norman Bates changed the way we think about movie 'heroes'

This weekend I revisited the better-than-it-has-any-business being first sequel to Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho. Released nearly 25 years after the original in 1983, Psycho II does some really clever things with the traumatic life of Norman Bates, who is freshly returning to civilization after years under psychiatric treatment.

Anthony Perkins once again does peerless work as an oddly sympathetic serial killer -- who, this time, is being tormented by the relatives of some of his former victims, as well as some of his own inner demons. What is amazing about the character is that he is the nominal 'hero' of both stories.

I have always found that concept -- of being forced to identify with and in some cases, even root for, someone who should be the bad guy, one of the uniquely special experiences in the movies.

In original 1960 Psycho there is a scene the beautifully illustrates this idea. Once Bates/Perkins has infamously dispatched with Janet Leigh's character, the movie's focus shifts to his socially awkward creep of a character. He meticulously cleans up that aftermath of her death and seeks to submerge her car in a nearby swamp, in order to cover his/her tracks.

Hitchcock creates a moment where it seems like the car just might not sink -- and the audience is meant to feel Bates' frustration and fear when the vehicle doesn't go down. Eventually it does, and a funny thing happens, we feel relief. Is it that we just want this macabre story to continue? Or is that in the moment we are reveling in the thrill of watching Bates try to get away with a crime?

Before Norman Bates and Psycho, heroes were pretty cut a dry. If you murdered someone in cold blood -- even if you were crazy or possessed -- you were usually the 'bad guy' and you almost certainly would see that character pay a price in the end for their 'sins.'

But -- SPOILER ALERT -- both in the original film and its first sequel, Bates subversively gets away with it. First go round, it was the relatively novel for its time insanity defense. In the sequel, he simply manages the pin the blame on others.

As an audience we aren't meant to be upset that he isn't receiving 'justice.' And perhaps Hitchcock's decision to keep the 'bad guy' in circulation -- and front and center in the narrative -- changed movies forever. In the following decades you'd seen plenty of movies with charismatic killers and scenarios where we are not even begrudgingly cheering on the a maniac.

It's not surprising that many people see Psycho as the godfather of the modern horror movie. Part of the kinky thrill of movies like Halloween and Nightmare on Elm Street, which came in its wake, is that part of the enjoyment of those movies is in the murder and mayhem.

Freddy Krueger is the real hero of the Nightmare films. He's infinitely more interesting and appealing than the teens he stalks and torments, and you want him to come back again and again

Obviously, this can become tiresome and painfully lazy -- hence the upcoming Jigsaw reboot of the already overplayed Saw franchise. But at least we no longer have to accept uniformly identifiable heroes and villains anymore. The whole playing field is muddier now, just like the real world.

Norman Bates may be a bit of a caricature too, but he's a figure of terror you can't just dismiss out of hand, he makes you feel something for him too.