Scripts: Psycho (revised draft, 01/Dec/1959) - part 1
"PSYCHO"
By
Joseph Stefano
Based on the novel by Robert Bloch
REVISED December 1, 1959
FADE IN:
EXT. PHOENIX, ARIZONA - (DAY) - HELICOPTER SHOT
Above Midtown section of the city. It is early afternoon, a
hot mid-summer day. The city is sun-sunblanched white and
its drifted-up noises are muted in blanched their own echoes.
We fly low, heading in a downtown direction, passing over
traffic-clogged streets, parking lots, white business
buildings, neatly patterned residential districts. As we
approach downtown section, the character of the city begins
to change. It is darker and shabby with age and industry. We
see railroad tracks, smokestacks, wholesale fruit-and-
vegetable markets, old municipal buildings, empty lots.
vegetable The very geography seems to give us a climate of
nefariousness, of back-doorness, dark and shadowy. And secret.
We fly lower and faster now, as if seeking out a specific
location. A skinny, high old hotel comes into view. On its
exposed brick side great painted letters advertise "Transients-
Low Weekly Rates-Radio in Every Room." We pause long enough
to establish the shoddy character of this hotel. Its open,
curtainless windows, its silent resigned look so
characteristic of such hole-and-corner hotels. We move forward
with purposefulness and-toward a certain window. The sash is
raised as high as it can go, but the shade is pulled down to
three or four inches of the inside sill, as if the occupants
of the room within wanted privacy but needed air. We are
close now, so that only the lower half of the window frame
is in shot. No sounds come from within the room.
Suddenly, we tip downward, go to the narrow space between
shade and sill, peep into the room.
A young woman is stretched out on the mussed bed. She wears
a full slip, stockings, no shoes. She lies in and attitude
of physical relaxation, but her face, seen in the dimness of
the room, betrays a certain inner-tension, worrisome
conflicts. She is MARY CRANE, an tension, attractive girl
nearing the end of her twenties and her rope.
A man stands beside the bed, only the lower half of his figure
visible. We hold on this tableau for a long moment, then
start forward. As we pass under the window shade,
CUT TO:
INT. THE HOTEL ROOM - (DAY)
A small room, a slow fan buzzing on a shelf above the narrow
bed. A card of hotel rules is pasted on the mirror above the
bureau. An unopened suitcase and a woman's large, straw open-
top handbag are on the bureau.
On the table beside the bed there are a container of Coco-
Cola and an unwrapped, untouched egg-salad sandwich. There
is no radio.
The man standing by the bed, wearing only trousers, T-shirt
and sox, is SAM LOOMIS, a good-looking, sensual shirt man
with warm humorous eyes and a compelling smile. He is blotting
his neck and face with a thin towel, and is staring down at
Mary, a small sweet smile playing about his mouth. Mary keeps
her face turned away from him.
After a moment, Sam drops the towel, sits on the bed, leans
over and takes Mary into his arms, kisses her long and warmly,
holds her with a firm possessiveness. The kiss is disturbed
and finally interrupted by the buzzing closeness of an
inconsiderate fly. Sam smiles, pulls away enough to allow
Mary to relax again against the pillow. He studies her, frowns
at her unresponsiveness, then speaks in a low, intimate,
playful voice.
SAM
Never did eat your lunch, did you.
Mary looks at his smile, has to respond, pulls him to her,
kisses him. Then, and without breaking the kiss, she swings
her legs over the side of the bed, toe-searches around, finds
her shoes, slips her feet into searches them. And finally
pulls away and sits up.
MARY
I better get back to the office.
These extended lunch hours give my
boss excess acid.
She rises, goes to the bureau, takes a pair of small earrings
out of her bag, begins putting them on, not bothering or
perhaps not wanting to look at herself in the mirror. Sam
watches her, concerned but unable to inhibit his cheery,
humorous good mood. Throughout remainder of this scene, they
occupy themselves with dressing, hair-combing, etc.
SAM
Call your boss and tell him you're
taking the rest of the afternoon
off. It's Friday anyway... and hot.
MARY
(soft sarcasm)
What do I do with my free afternoon,
walk you to the airport?
SAM
(meaningfully)
We could laze around here a while
longer.
MARY
Checking out time is three P.M. Hotels
of this sort aren't interested in
you when you come in, but when your
time's up...
(a small anguish)
Sam, I hate having to be with you in
a place like this.
SAM
I've heard of married couples who
deliberately spend occasional nights
in cheap hotels. They say it...
MARY
(interrupting)
When you're married you can do a lot
of things deliberately.
SAM
You sure talk like a girl who's been
married.
MARY
Sam!
SAM
I'm sorry, Mary.
(after a moment)
My old Dad used to say 'when you
can't change a situation, laugh at
it.' Nothing ridicules a thing like
laughing at it.
MARY
I've lost my girlish laughter.
SAM
(observing)
The only girlish thing you have lost.
MARY
(a meaningful quiet,
then, with difficulty:)
Sam. This is the last time.
SAM
For what?
MARY
This! Meeting you in secret so we
can be... secretive! You come down
here on business trips and we steal
lunch hours and... I wish you wouldn't
even come.
SAM
Okay. What do we do instead, write
each other lurid love letters?
MARY
(about to argue, then
turning away)
I haven't time to argue. I'm a working
girl.
SAM
And I'm a working man! We're a regular
working-class tragedy!
(he laughs)
MARY
It is tragic! Or it will be... if we
go on meeting in shabby hotels
whenever you can find a tax-deductible
excuse for flying down deductible
here...
SAM
(interrupting,
seriously)
You can't laugh at it, huh?
MARY
Can you?
SAM
Sure. It's like laughing through a
broken jaw, but...
He breaks off, his cheeriness dissolved, goes to the window,
tries to raise the shade. It sticks. He pulls at it.
It comes down entirely, and the hot sun glares into the room,
revealing it in all its shabbiness and sordidness as if
corroborating Mary's words and attitude. Sam kicks at the
fallen shade, laughs in frustration, grabs on to his humor
again.
SAM
And besides, when you say I make tax-
deductible excuses you make me out a
criminal.
MARY
(having to smile)
You couldn't be a criminal if you
committed a major crime.
SAM
I wish I were. Not an active criminal
but... a nice guy with the conscience
of a criminal.
(goes close to mary,
touches her)
Next best thing to no conscience at
all.
MARY
(pulling away)
I have to go, Sam.
SAM
I can come down next week.
MARY
No.
SAM
Not even just to see you, to have
lunch... in public?
MARY
We can see each other, we can even
have dinner... but respectably, in
my house with my mother's picture on
the mantel and my sister helping me
broil a big steak for three!
SAM
And after the steak... do we send
Sister to the movies and turn Mama's
picture to the wall?
MARY
Sam! No!
SAM
(after a pause, simply)
All right.
She stares at him, surprised at his willingness to continue
the affair on her terms, as girls are so often surprised
when they discover men will continue to want them even after
the sexual bait has been pulled in. Sam smiles reassuringly,
places his hands gently on her arms, speaks with gentle and
simple sincerity.
SAM
Mary, whenever it's possible, tax-
deductible or not, I want to see
deductible you. And under any
conditions.
(a smile)
Even respectability.
MARY
You make respectability sound...
disrespectful.
SAM
(brightly)
I'm all for it! It requires patience
and temperance and a lot of sweating-
out... otherwise, though, it's only
hard work.
(a pause)
But if I can see you, touch you even
as simply as this... I won't mind.
He moves away and again the weight of his pain and problems
crushes away his good humor. There is a quiet moment.
SAM
I'm fed up with sweating for people
who aren't there. I sweat to pay off
my father's debts... and he's in his
grave... I sweat to pay my ex-wife
alimony, and she's living on the
other side of the world somewhere.
MARY
(a smile)
I pay, too. They also pay who meet
in hotel rooms.
SAM
A couple of years and the debts will
be paid off. And if she ever re-
marries, the alimony stops... and
then...
MARY
I haven't even been married once
yet!
SAM
Yeah, but when you do... you'll swing.
MARY
(smiling, then with a
terrible urgency)
Sam, let's go get married.
SAM
And live with me in a storeroom behind
a hardware store in Fairvale. We'll
have a lot of laughs. When I send my
ex-wife her money, you can lick the
stamps.
MARY
(a deep desperation)
I'll lick the stamps.
He looks at her, long, pulls her close, kisses her lightly,
looks out the window and stares at the wide sky.
SAM
You know what I'd like? A clear,
empty sky... and a plane, and us in
it... and somewhere a private island
for sale, where we can run around
without our... shoes on. And the
wherewithal to buy what I'd like.
(he moves away,
suddenly serious)
Mary, you want to cut this off, go
out and find yourself someone
available.
MARY
I'm thinking of it.
SAM
(a cheerful shout)
How can you even think a thing like
that!
MARY
(picking up handbag,
starting for door)
Don't miss your plane.
SAM
Hey, we can leave together can't we?
MARY
(at door)
I'm late... and you have to put your
shoes on.
Mary goes out quickly, closing door behind her. As Sam stares
down at his shoeless feet,
CUT TO:
EXT. DOWNTOWN STREET - (DAY) - HIGH ANGLE
Shooting down at hotel entrance. Mary comes out, walks quickly
to a parked cab, gets in. The cab zooms up the awful street.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. LOWERY REAL ESTATE OFFICE - (DAY)
A small, moderately successful office off the main street. A
cab pulls up at the curb. We see Mary get out of cab, pay
driver, cross pavement to the office door.
INT. OUTER OFFICE - (DAY)
Mary enters office, crosses to her desk, sits down, rubs her
temples, finally looks over at Caroline, a girl in the last
of her teens.
MARY
Isn't Mr. Lowery back from lunch?
CAROLINE
(a high, bright, eager-
to-talk voice laced
to-with a vague Texan
accent)
He's lunching with the man who's
buying the Harris Street property,
you know, that oil lease man... so
that's why he's late.
(a pause, then, as
Mary does not respond
to the pointed thrust)
You getting a headache?
MARY
It'll pass. Headaches are like
resolutions... you forget them soon
as they stop hurting.
CAROLINE
You got aspirins? I have something...
not aspirins, but
(cheerfully takes
bottle of pills out
of desk drawer)
my mother's doctor gave these to me
the day of my wedding.
(laughs)
Teddy was furious when he found out
I'd taken tranquilizers!
She rises, starts for Mary's desk, pills in hand.
MARY
Were there any calls?
CAROLINE
Teddy called. Me... And my mother
called to see if Teddy called. Oh,
and your sister called to say she's
going to Tucson to do some buying
and she'll be gone the whole weekend
and...
She breaks off, distracted by the SOUND of the door opening.
MR. LOWERY and his oil-lease client, TOM CASSIDY enter the
office. Lowery is a pleasant, worried-faced man, big and a
trifle pompous. Cassidy is very faced loud and has a lunch-
hour load on. He is a gross man, exuding a kind of pitiful
vulgarity.
CASSIDY
Wow! Hot as fresh milk! You girls
should get your boss to air-condition
you up. He can afford it today.
Lowery flashes an embarrassed smile at Mary, tries to lead
Cassidy toward the private office.
LOWERY
Mary, will you get those copies of
the deed ready for Mr. Cassidy.
Cassidy pauses beside Mary's desk, hooks a haunch onto the
desktop, smiles a wet smile at Mary.
CASSIDY
Tomorrow's the day! My sweet little
girl...
(laughs as Mary looks
up at him)
Not you, my daughter! A baby, and
tomorrow she stands up there and
gets her sweet self married away
from me!
(pulling out wallet)
I want you to look at my baby.
Eighteen years old... and she's never
had an unhappy day in any one of
those years!
(flashes photo)
Mary glances, cannot bring herself to smile or make some
remark, continues sorting out the deed copies, tries to ignore
the man's hot-breath closeness.
LOWERY
Come on, Tom, my office is air-
conditioned.
CASSIDY
(ignoring Lowery)
You know what I do with unhappiness?
I buy it off! You unhappy?
MARY
Not inordinately.
(puts deed copy into
Cassidy's too-close
hand)
CASSIDY
I'm buying this house for my baby's
wedding present. Forty thousand
dollars, cash! Now that ain't buying
happiness, that's buying off
unhappiness! That penniless punk
she's marryin'...
(laughs)
Probably a good kid... it's just
that I hate him.
(looks at deed)
Yup! Forty thousand, says here...
(to Lowery)
Casharoonie!
He takes out of his inside pocket, two separate bundles of
new $100 bills and throws them onto the desk, under Mary's
nose. Caroline's eyes go wide at the sight of the glorious
green bundles of bills, and she comes close to the desk.
Cassidy leans terribly close to Mary, flicks through the
bills, laughs wickedly.
CASSIDY
I never carry more than I can afford
to lose!
(closer to Mary)
Count 'em!
LOWERY
(shocked, worried)
Tom... cash transactions of this
size! Most irregular...
CASSIDY
So what? It's my private money!
(laughs, winks, elbows
Lowery)
And now it's yours.
CAROLINE
(staring at the money)
I declare!
CASSIDY
(whispering)
I don't! That's how I'm able to keep
it!
(laughs)
LOWERY
(hastily interrupting)
Suppose we just put this in the safe
and then Monday morning when you're
feeling good...
CASSIDY
Speakin' of feeling good, where's
that bottle you said you had in your
desk...
(laughs, as if having
given away Lowery's
secret)
Oops!
(to Mary, patting her
arm)
Usually I can keep my mouth shut!
He rises, reels toward Lowery's office, pauses, turns, speaks
to Mary, meaningfully.
CASSIDY
Honest. I can keep any private
transaction a secret... any pri....
(stopped by Mary's
cold gaze)
Lowery! I'm dyin' of thirstaroonie!
Lowery starts after him, pauses, turns to Mary. Cassidy has
gone into Lower's office.
LOWERY
(quietly)
I don't even want it in the office
over the weekend. Put it in the safe
deposit box, at the bank, Mary. And
we'll get him to give us a check on
Monday - instead.
He starts quickly away when it looks like Cassidy is going
to come and pull him bodily into the office. When the men
are gone and the door is closed, Caroline picks up a bundle,
smiles at it.
CAROLINE
He was flirting with you. I guess he
noticed my wedding ring.
Mary has put one bundle into a large envelope and takes the
other from Caroline. When the bills are away, she puts the
filled envelope in her handbag, notices the remaining deed
copies on her desk, picks them up, goes to the private office
door, knocks, starts to open door as:
LOWERY (O.S.)
Come in.
INT. LOWERY'S PRIVATE OFFICE - (DAY)
Mary opens door, looks in. Cassidy is drinking from a large
tumbler, winks at her without pausing in his drinking. Mary
remains on threshold a moment, then crosses to the desk,
talking as she goes.
MARY
The copies. Mr. Lowery, if you don't
mind, I'd like to go right on home
after the bank. I have a slight...
CASSIDY
You go right home! Me and your boss
are going out to get ourselves a
little drinkin' done!
(to Lowery)
Right?
LOWERY
(to Mary)
Of course. You feeling ill?
MARY
A headache.
CASSIDY
You need a week-end in Las Vegas...
playground of the world!
MARY
I'm going to spend this week-end in
bed.
(starts out)
CASSIDY
(to Lowery)
Only playground that beats Las Vegas!
Mary goes back out into the outer office, closes door.
INT. OUTER OFFICE - (DAY)
Mary goes to her desk, takes the handbag, checks to make
sure the money-filled envelope is tucked well down into it.
During this:
CAROLINE
Aren't you going to take the pills?
(as Mary shakes her
head)
They'll knock that headache out.
MARY
I don't need pills... just sleep.
She goes to the door.
DISSOLVE:
INT. MARY'S BEDROOM - (DAY)
A double bed in the foreground. We just see the far side as
the CAMERA SHOOTS across. Mary enters the scene, clad only
in her slip. Perhaps she is about to get into bed. Behind
her is an open closet, but too dark inside for us to see any
contents. As Mary turns to the closet the CAMERA LOWERS to
show a close view of the $40,000 in the envelope on our side
of the bed.
Mary takes a dress from the closet and starts to put it on
as the CAMERA RETREATS to reveal a packed but not yet closed
suitcase also on the bed. Mary zips up her dress and then
brings some final garments from the closet.
She comes around to the suitcase and puts them on the top.
Mary works with haste and in tension, as if acting on an
impulse which might vanish as quickly as it came.
The suitcase filled now, she checks around the room, then
takes her handbag to the bed, puts in the money-filled
envelope, and then slams the suitcase shut. Then filled she
looks at her small bedroom desk, goes to it, removes a small
file-envelope from one of the drawers. It is one of those
brown envelopes in which one keeps important papers and
policies and certificates. She checks its contents briefly,
puts it on the bed, opens another desk drawer, takes out her
bank book, tosses it on the bed. Then she packs both the
file-envelope and the bank book, into her handbag, takes one
quick last look around the room, picks up the handbag and
the suitcase and goes out of the room.
CUT TO:
EXT. MARY'S GARAGE - (DAY)
A two-car garage. One car is gone. Mary's car is parked in
the driveway. The CAMERA is low enough so that we can easily
read the Arizona number plate in the foreground.
Mary comes out of house, starts for the trunk, intending to
put the suitcase in, changes her mind, places the suitcase
and her handbag on the front seat, gets in, starts the car,
begins to back out of driveway.
...continue to part 2
