The terror in Psycho doesn’t come from what we see, but from how we see it: through keyholes and from behind curtains. In Psycho, the shadow isn’t just a cinematographic choice—it’s a confession. The true genius of the Oedipal buffet of Psycho lies in the mirror it holds up. We scream at our own shadows. Psycho forces us to look at the parts of ourselves we’d rather flush away.
