From its early scenesof self-censored sex in an anonymous hotel room, to Janet Leigh's coldpursuit of hard cash, to a cop-car chase shown almost entirely in asmall rear-view mirror, Psycho is a study in chilling frustration,effectively photographed in varying shades of gray. Ironically, thingsonly begin to warm up at the Bates Motel (a family establishment) whereAnthony Perkins' Norman Bates brings the film its first elements ofvulnerable humanity; his relationship with his mother, its first hint ofintimacy. His vulnerability is both off-putting and contagious, and itrubs off on Janet...hence, the shower. Those of us who have neverforgotten this macabre set-piece might be more confounded than comfortedby Hitchcock's statement that Psycho was "made with a great sense ofamusement on my part. To me it's a fun picture."