Scripts: Psycho (revised draft, 01/Dec/1959) - part 3
EXT. HIGHWAY 99 - LONG SHOT
Mary's car dashing along.
DISSOLVE TO:
MARY IN NEW CAR
Mary looks weary, tired with strain and with hard driving.
Her eyes are heavy with worry and deep thought.
OUT THE WINDSHIELD
We can see that it is much later in the day, almost dusk.
MARY IN NEW CAR
We HEAR the sound of an agitated BUZZ of an intercom system,
a sound emanating from Mary's imagination.
After the second BUZZ, we HEAR the voice of Caroline.
CAROLINE'S VOICE
Yes, Mr. Lowery.
LOWERY'S VOICE
(a worried tone)
Caroline...? Mary still isn't in?
CAROLINE'S VOICE
No, Mr. Lowery... but then she's
always a bit late on Monday mornings.
LOWERY'S VOICE
Buzz me the minute she comes in.
Again Mary shakes her head, forces herself to stop hearing
these "invented" scenes of her imagination.
EXT. HIGHWAY
Now we cut to the view of the road, from Mary's viewpoint.
Darkness of evening is coming. In the dim twilight we see
the neon sign of roadside restaurants and gas stations
beginning to blaze on.
INT. MARY'S NEW CAR
Back on Mary's face, and after a moment, the imagined voices
again:
LOWERY'S VOICE
Call her sister! If no one's answering
at the house....
CAROLINE'S VOICE
I called her sister, Mr. Lowery,
where she works, the Music Makers
Music Store, you know? And she doesn't
know where Mary is any more than we
do.
LOWERY'S VOICE
You better run out to the house.
She may be... unable to answer the
phone...
CAROLINE'S VOICE
Her sister's going to do that. She's
as worried as we are.
A flush of painful guilt and regret rises up in Mary's face.
She closes her eyes for one tight swift moment.
EXT. HIGHWAY
We cut again to the highway. The first oncoming headlights
slash at the windshield.
INT. MARY'S NEW CAR
Cutting back to Mary, we can sense by the tense muscles of
her face that she is driving faster. The oncoming headlights
blurt at her.
Suddenly we HEAR Lowery's voice, loud now and frightened, as
if the anxiety in the man's voice was strong enough to break
through Mary's effort to keep her mind silent and her
imagination blank.
LOWERY'S VOICE
No! I haven't the faintest idea. As
I said, I last saw your sister when
she left this office on Friday...
she said she didn't feel well and
wanted to leave early and I said she
could. And that was the last I saw...
(a pause, a thought)
...wait a minute, I did see her, an
hour or so later, driving...
(a pause, then with
solemn fear)
Ah, I think you'd better come over
here to my office. Quick.
(a pause, a click)
Caroline, get Mr. Cassidy for me.
EXT. HIGHWAY
It is completely dark now, night.
INT. MARY'S NEW CAR
We cut back to her face.
LOWERY'S VOICE
After all, Cassidy, I told you...
all that cash... I'm not taking the
responsibility... Oh, for heaven's
sake, a girl works for you for ten
years, you trust her! All right,
yes, you better come over.
FROM MARY'S VIEWPOINT
EXT. THE ROAD AHEAD INT. MARY'S NEW CAR
Fast cut back to Mary's face. Oncoming headlights throw a
blinding light across her features.
CASSIDY'S VOICE
(undrunk, sharp with
rage)
Well I ain't about to kiss off forty
thousand dollars! I'll get it back
and if any of it's missin' I'll
replace it with her fine soft flesh!
I'll track her, never you doubt it!
LOWERY'S VOICE
Hold on, Cassidy... I still can't
believe... it must be some kind of a
mystery... I can't...
CASSIDY'S VOICE
You checked with the bank, no? They
never laid eyes on her, no? You
still trustin'? Hot creepers, she
sat there while I dumped it out...
hardly even looked at it, plannin'
and... and even flirtin' with me...!
A look of revulsion makes Mary close her eyes.
THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD AGAIN
Big drops of rain begin to appear.
CLOSEUP - MARY
She is becoming aware of the rain starting.
THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD
The rain increasing and backlit by the oncoming headlights.
CLOSEUP - MARY
Mary starts the windshield wipers.
THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD
The wipers are having a battle with the now torrential rain.
CLOSEUP - MARY
Peering through the blurred windshield.
CLOSEUP - THE CAR WHEELS
slowing down in the flooding highway.
CLOSEUP - MARY
peering through the windshield. The oncoming lights are fewer.
CLOSEUP - THE CAR WHEELS
almost coming to a slow turn.
THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD
just blackness and rain.
CLOSEUP - MARY
peering.
MARY'S VIEWPOINT
An almost undiscernible light in the far distance, a neon
sign blurred by the rain-sheeted windshield.
MARY'S CAR
She presses down, forces the car to move on through the
flooded road.
EXT. THE ROAD
As we move closer, we see the neon sign more clearly and can
faintly make out the large letters which read "Motel." Mary
stops the car, lowers the window slightly, looks out. We see
the sign clearly now: "BATES MOTEL." Mary opens the car door
and dashes out into the rain and up onto the porch of the
motel office.
EXT. BATES' MOTEL - (NIGHT)
Mary pauses on the porch. The lights are on within the office.
She tries door, finds it open, goes into office. CAMERA
FOLLOWS her into office. There is no one present. Mary goes
to the desk, rings a small pushbell. There is no response.
Mary rubs her forehead in weariness and frustration, goes
back out onto the porch. She looks off in another direction,
slightly behind the office, and sees...
MARY'S VIEWPOINT - A LARGE OLD HOUSE - (NIGHT)
A path from the motel office leads directly up to this house.
There is a light on in one of the upstairs rooms. A WOMAN
passes the window, pauses, peers out.
We see her in clear silhouette. She quickly goes away from
the window.
EXT. PORCH OF BATES' MOTEL - (NIGHT)
Mary, having seen the woman, expects now that she will get
some attention. She stands a few moments, waiting.
No one comes. Impatience and anger rise in Mary. She dashes
out into the rain, to her car, gets in, opens the side window,
begins to honk the horn. After a moment, a YOUNG MAN open
the front door of the house, pauses, starts down the path.
After a few steps, he turns and runs back into the house.
Mary leaves her car, starts a dash for the shelter of the
porch. As she runs, we see that the Young Man has gone back
only to get an umbrella. Seeing that Mary is on her way to
the porch, he runs quickly, the umbrella unopened in his
hand. He gets to the porch a moment after Mary has reached
it.
He stops short, looks at her, then at the umbrella hanging
useless in his hand, then back to her.
There is something sadly touching in his manner, in his look.
Mary's impatience goes and she smiles and this makes him
almost smile. He gestures her into the office, standing back
to indicate that he will go after her. She goes into the
office.
INT. OFFICE OF BATES' MOTEL - (NIGHT)
The Young Man follows Mary in, closes the door. He is NORMAN
BATES, somewhere in his late twenties, thin and tall, soft-
spoken and hesitant.
NORMAN
Dirty night.
MARY
(not really a question)
You have a vacancy?
NORMAN
(simply, almost
cheerfully)
We have twelve vacancies. Twelve
cabins, twelve vacancies.
(a pause)
They moved away the highway.
MARY
I thought I'd gotten off the main...
NORMAN
I knew you must have. No one stops
here anymore unless they do.
He is behind the counter now, pushing forward the registration
book.
NORMAN
But it's no good dwelling on our
losses, is it. We go right ahead
lighting signs and following the
formalities... Would you sign,
please.
Mary has placed her handbag on the counter. She takes the
registration book, picks up the pen, is suddenly struck with
the realization that she'd better use an alias. She writes
the name Marie Samuels.
NORMAN
Your home address. Oh, just the town
will do.
MARY
(glancing at newspaper
sticking out of her
handbag)
Los Angeles.
She realizes he didn't ask her to tell him, merely to write
it down. She smiles, writes Los Angeles beside the false
name. Norman smiles, stops smiling out of embarrassment.
NORMAN
Cabin One. It's closer in case you
want anything... right next to the
office.
CLOSEUP - NORMAN
He removes a key for Cabin One. We see that there is a
remaining key on the board.
TWO SHOT - MARY AND NORMAN
MARY
I want sleep more than anything.
Except maybe, food.
NORMAN
There's a big diner about ten miles
on up... just outside Fairvale.
MARY
Am I that close to Fairvale?
NORMAN
Fifteen miles. I'll get your bags.
He goes to door, opens it. The rain has slowed down
considerably. He smiles at this fact, as if to communicate
some pleasure he finds in it. Mary follows him to the door,
goes out on the porch, waits and watches as Norman runs to
her car, gets in, drives it to the parking space in front of
Cabin One. Mary walks along the porch, waits before the door
of Cabin One.
Norman gets out of car, with suitcase, runs to the door,
opens it, pushes the door open, puts his hand in and switches
on a light. Mary goes into the cabin. Norman follows her.
INT. CABIN ONE - (NIGHT)
Norman places suitcase on bed, goes to the window, opens it.
NORMAN
Stuffy in here.
(turns to her)
Well... the mattress is soft and
there're hangers in the closet and...
stationary with "Bates' Motel" printed
on it in case you want to make your
friends back home envious... and...
the... over there....
(he points to the
bathroom, fairly
blushes)
MARY
The bathroom.
NORMAN
(quickly, starting to
leave)
I'll be in the office if you want
anything... just tap on the wall.
MARY
Thank you, Mr. Bates.
NORMAN
Norman Bates.
He pauses at the door, gazes at her. She smiles.
NORMAN
You have something most girls never
have.
MARY
I have?
NORMAN
There's no name for it... But it's
something that, that puts a person
at ease.
MARY
Thank you. Again.
NORMAN
(not really a question)
You're not going to go out again and
drive up to that diner, are you?
MARY
No.
NORMAN
Then will you do me a favor?
(without waiting for
her response)
Will you have supper here? I was
just about to, myself... nothing
more than some sandwiches and a lot
of milk, but I'd like it if you'd
come up to the house and... I don't
set a fancy table but... the kitchen's
awful homey.
MARY
I'd like to.
NORMAN
All right, you get your dresses
hanging out and... change those wet
shoes, and I'll come for you soon as
it's ready...
(starts out)
...with my trusty umbrella.
(he laughs a small
laugh, runs off)
Mary closes the door, goes to suitcase, opens it, starts to
take out a dress. Her handbag is next to the suitcase. She
glances down into it, pauses, drops the dress, reaches into
the handbag, takes out the money-filled envelope, stares at
it, almost with regret, filled contemplates hiding it, decides
to, starts looking for a reasonable hiding place. She looks
about, at the closet, the drawers etc., realizes all such
places are obvious. Catching sight of the newspaper in her
bag, she hits on a solution. She opens the newspaper, places
the envelope within it, lock-folds the paper again and then
places it on the bedside table as if it were there for later
reading. She considers this for a moment, accepts it, goes
to her suitcase to start unpacking.
Suddenly the quiet is shattered by the shrill, ugly sound of
a woman's voice, raised in anger.
WOMAN'S VOICE
No! I tell you no!
Mary walks slowly to the window, realizing that the terrible
voice is coming from the house behind the cabins. CAMERA
FOLLOWS her to window and once there we see the light is
still on in the upstairs bedroom and the voice is coming
from that room. The rain has stopped and the moon is out.
WOMAN'S VOICE
I won't have you bringing strange
young girls in for supper...
(an ugly, sneering
note creeps into the
voice)
...by candlelight, I suppose, in the
cheap erotic fashion of young men
with cheap, erotic minds!
NORMAN'S VOICE
Mother, please...
WOMAN'S VOICE
And then what? After supper, music?
Whispers?
NORMAN'S VOICE
Mother, she's just a stranger...
hungry, and the weather's bad...
WOMAN'S VOICE
(mimicking cruelly)
Mother, she's just a stranger!
(hard, cruel again)
As if men don't desire strangers, as
if... oh, I refuse to speak of
disgusting things because they disgust
me! You understand, Boy?
WOMAN'S VOICE
(pause)
Go on, go tell her she'll not be
appeasing her ugly appetite with my
food... or my son! Or do I have to
tell her, cause you don't have the
guts? Huh, boy? You have the guts,
boy?
NORMAN'S VOICE
(blurted cut fury and
shame)
Shut up! Shut up!
There is the SOUND of a door closing in that room up there.
Mary has stood by the window, listening with mounting distress
and concern and sympathy. She turns her face away now, gazes
sadly at the little empty room.
In a moment there is the SOUND of the house's front door
slamming shut. Mary turns, looks out the window.
FROM MARY'S VIEWPOINT - (NIGHT)
We see Norman coming down the path, carrying a napkin-covered
tray.
INT. CABIN ONE - (NIGHT)
Mary looks at him for a moment, then turns quickly, goes to
the door, opens it and goes out onto the porch.
EXT. THE MOTEL PORCH - (NIGHT)
Mary pauses outside the door, is about to start forward when
Norman comes round the building and walks along the porch,
past the office, stopping only when he is close to her. He
stares with painful embarrassment at the knowing look in her
eye.
MARY
I've caused you some trouble.
NORMAN
Mother...
(a hollow little laugh,
an attempt at sardonic
humor)
...what is the phrase... "she isn't
herself today"... I think that's it.
MARY
(looking at the tray)
You shouldn't have bothered. I really
don't have that much of an appetite.
Norman flinches, realizing she has heard his mother's
reference to Mary's appetite.
NORMAN
I'm sorry. I wish... people could
apologize for other people.
MARY
Don't worry about it.
(a warm smile)
But as long as you've made us supper,
we may as well eat it. Huh?
She begins to back into her room. Norman starts to follow,
hesitates as he sees the total picture of an attractive young
woman and a motel room. Bringing down the tray of food, in
defiance of his mother's orders, is about the limit of his
defiance for one day. He cannot go into Mary's room.
NORMAN
It might be nicer... warmer in the
office.
Without waiting for approval or disapproval, he turns, hurries
to the office. Mary looks after him, her face showing amused
sympathy, then follows.
INT. THE MOTEL OFFICE - (NIGHT)
Norman looks about, tray in hand, sees there is no reasonable
place to spread out a supper. He turns, sees Mary standing
in the doorway.
NORMAN
Eating in an office...
(a rueful smile)
...to officious, even for me. I have
the parlor behind this... if you'd
like.
Mary nods. Norman walks on, behind the counter and into the
darkened parlor. Mary follows.
INT. NORMAN'S PARLOR -(NIGHT)
In the darkened room, lit only by the light from the office
spilling in, we see Norman placing the tray on a table. Mary
comes to the doorway, pauses. Norman straightens up, goes to
lamp, turns on the light.
Mary is startled by the room. Even in the dimness of one
lamp, the strange, extraordinary nature of the room rushes
up at one. It is a room of birds. Stuffed birds, all over
the room, on every available surface, one even clinging to
the old fashioned fringed shade of the lamp. The birds are
of many varieties, beautiful, grand, horrible, preying. Mary
stares in awe and a certain fascinated horror.
CLOSE UP - THE VARIOUS BIRDS TWO SHOT - MARY AND NORMAN
NORMAN
Please sit down. On the sofa.
As Norman goes about spreading out the bread and ham and
pouring the milk, we follow Mary across the room. She studies
the birds as she walks, briefly examines a bookcase stacked
with books on the subject of "Taxidermy."
CLOSE UP - THE BOOKS ON TAXIDERMY MED. CLOSE SHOT - MARY
She notices, too, the paintings on the wall; nudes, primarily,
and many with a vaguely religious overtone.
Finally Mary reaches the sofa, sits down, looks at the spread.
MARY
You're very... kind.
NORMAN
It's all for you. I'm not hungry.
Please go ahead.
Mary begins to eat, her attitude a bit tense. She takes up a
small slice of ham, bites off a tiny bite, nibbles at it in
the manner of one disturbed and preoccupied.
Norman gazes at her, at the tiny bite she has taken, smiles
and then laughs.
NORMAN
You eat like a bird.
MARY
You'd know, of course.
NORMAN
Not really. I hear that expression,
that one eats "like a bird," is really
a falsie, I mean a falsity, because
birds eat a tremendous lot.
(A pause, then
explaining)
Oh, I don't know anything about birds.
My hobby is stuffing things...
taxidermy. And I guess I'd just rather
stuff birds because... well, I hate
the look of beasts when they're
stuffed, foxes and chimps and all...
some people even stuff dogs and
cats... but I can't... I think only
birds look well stuffed because
they're rather... passive, to begin
with... most of them...
He trails off, his exuberance failing in the rushing return
of his natural hesitancy and discomfort. Mary looks at him,
with some compression, smiles.
MARY
It's a strange hobby. Curious, I
mean.
NORMAN
Uncommon, too.
MARY
I imagine so.
NORMAN
It's not as expensive as you'd think.
Cheap, really. Needles, thread,
sawdust .. the chemicals are all
that cost anything.
(He goes quiet, looks
disturbed)
MARY
A man should have a hobby.
NORMAN
It's more than a hobby... sometimes...
a hobby is supposed to pass the time,
not fill it.
MARY
(after a pause, softly)
Is your time so empty?
NORMAN
Oh, no!
(forcing brightness
again)
I run the office, tend the cabins
and grounds, do little chores for
mother... the ones she allows I might
be capable of doing.
MARY
You go out... with friends?
NORMAN
Friends? Who needs friends.
(Laughs, then with
gallows humor)
A boy's best friend is his mother.
(Stops laughing)
You've never had an empty moment in
your whole life. Have you?
MARY
Only my share.
NORMAN
Where are you going? I don't mean to
pry...
MARY
(A wistful smile)
I'm looking for a private island.
NORMAN
What are you running away from?
MARY
(Alert)
Why do you ask that?
NORMAN
No. People never run away from
anything.
(A pause)
The rain didn't last very long.
(Turning suddenly)
You know what I think? I think we're
all in our private traps, clamped in
them, and none of us can ever climb
out. We scratch and claw... but only
at the air, only at each other, and
for all of it, we never budge an
inch.
MARY
Sometimes we deliberately step into
those traps.
NORMAN
I was born in mine. I don't mind it
anymore.
MARY
You should... mind it.
NORMAN
Oh I do... but I say I don't.
(Laughs boyishly)
MARY
(Staring at him,
shaking her head
softly.)
If anyone ever spoke to me, the way
I heard... The way she spoke to you,
I don't think I could ever laugh
again.
NORMAN
(Controlled resentment)
Sometimes when she talks that way to
me I'd like to... curse her out and
leave her forever!
(A rueful smile)
Or at least, defy her.
(A pause, a hopeless
shrug)
But I couldn't. She's ill.
MARY
She sounded strong...
NORMAN
I mean... ill.
(A pause)
She had to raise me all by herself
after my dad died... I was only
five... and it must have been a
strain. Oh, she didn't have to go
out to work or anything, Dad left us
with a little something... anyway, a
few years ago... Mother met a man.
He talked her into building this
motel... We could have talked her
into anything... and when. Well...
It was just too much for her when he
died, too... And the way he died...
Oh, it's nothing to talk about when
you're eating.
(Pauses, smiles)
Anyway, it was too much of a loss
for my mother... she had nothing
left.
MARY
(Critically)
Except you.
NORMAN
A son is a poor substitute for a
lover.
(Turns away as if in
distaste of the word)
MARY
Why don't you go away?
NORMAN
To a private island, like you?
MARY
No, not like me.
NORMAN
It's too late for me. And besides...
who'd look after her? She'd be alone
up there, the fire would go out...
damp and cold, like a grave. When
you love someone, you don't do that
to them, even if you hate them. Oh,
I don't hate her. I hate... what
she's become. I hate... the illness.
MARY
(Slowly, carefully)
Wouldn't it be better if you put her
in... someplace...
She hesitates. Norman turns, slowly, looking at her with a
striking coldness.
NORMAN
An Institution? A madhouse? People
always call a madhouse "someplace."
(Mimicing coldly)
Put her in Someplace!
MARY
I'm sorry... I didn't mean it to
sound uncaring...
NORMAN
(The coldness turning
to tight fury)
What do you mean about caring? Have
you ever seen one of those places?
Inside? Laughing and tears and cruel
eyes studying you... and my mother
there? Why? has she harmed you?
She's as harmless as... one of these
stuffed birds.
MARY
I am sorry. I only felt... it seemed
she was harming you. I meant...
NORMAN
(High fury now)
Well? You meant well? People always
mean well, they cluck their thick
tongues and shake their heads and
suggest so very delicately that...
The fury suddenly dies, abruptly and completely, and he sinks
back into his chair. There is a brief silence.
Mary watches the troubled man, is almost physically pained
by his anguish.
NORMAN
(Quietly)
I've suggested it myself. But I hate
to even think such a thing. She
needs me... and it isn't...
(Looks up with a
childlike pleading
in his eyes)
...it isn't as if she were a maniac,
a raving thing... it's just that...
sometimes she goes a little mad. We
all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't
you?
MARY
(After a long
thoughtful pause)
Yes, and just one time can be enough.
(Rises)
Thank you.
NORMAN
(Cheerfully, correcting)
Thank you, Norman.
MARY
Norman.
NORMAN
You're not going to... to your room
already?
MARY
I'm very tired. And I'll have a long
drive tomorrow. All the way back to
Phoenix.
NORMAN
Phoenix?
MARY
I stepped into a private trap back
there -- and I want to go back and...
try to pull myself out.
(Looking close at
Norman)
Before it's too late for me, too.
NORMAN
(Looking at her)
Why don't you stay a little while,
just for talking.
MARY
I'd like to, but...
NORMAN
Alright. I'll see you in the morning.
I'll bring you breakfast. What time
will you...
MARY
Very early. Dawn.
NORMAN
Alright, Miss...
(He has forgotten her
name)
MARY
Crane.
NORMAN
That's it.
(He frowns, as if
bothered by not being
able to match the
name to the memory
of the name in the
registration book)
MARY
Good night.
...continue to part 4
