Magazine Research

I have taken cuttings from lots of different magazines such as Empire and DVD review to do with anything remakes or sequels.

Possible Films To Look Into

Exact remakes:

• Psycho

Remakes:

• Texas Chainsaw Masacre (as well as sequels/prequels)
  
• Hills Have Eyes 1+2
• The Wickerman
• Halloween (sequels)
  

Japanese To American:

• The Grudge (1+2)
• The Departed
• Ring

More Than One Sequels Filmed together:

• Back To Future
• Lord Of The Rings
• Pirates Of The Carrabean

Series/Books:

• Harry Potter
• James Bond (character change)
• Hannibal Lector (Books written specially for Film)

TV/Comic spin off/remakes?

• Turtles
• Transformers
• Spiderman
• The Simpsons
  

Others to Look into:

• The Godfather (Oscar winning sequel one of only 2 sequels to win)
• Star Wars (6 films)
• Nightmare on Elm Street
• Alien

The Remake of Psycho (Gus Van Sant, 1998): Creativity or Cinematic Blasphemy?

The Remake of Psycho (Gus Van Sant, 1998): Creativity or Cinematic Blasphemy?

by Constantine Santas

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Constantine Santas is a Professor of Literature and Film at Flagler College, St. Augustine, Florida, and the author of Responding to Film (Burnham, Inc., 2001)

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When Gus Van Sant's Psycho was released in 1998, Hitchcock loyalists were baffled, puzzled, outraged, soured, and in the mood of total rejection - some even before having taken a look at the product. Why do it? they asked. What was the idea? A host of related questions were raised, not the least of which was: what is a remake? Why are movies remade? And in the case of a unique work of art - as Hitchcock's Psycho is, by universal admission - why remake it all?

Not all of these questions can be answered satisfactorily, of course, and no answer can satisfy all those who have decided to seal the doom of the Van Sant movie. But it might be useful to dwell on the subject, for, no matter how one looks at it, this is the first verbatim (and thus worth noticing) remake of a Hitchock classic - though several have been made on a lesser scale, including, Rear Window, as a TV movie with ex-Superman Christopher Reeve on a real wheelchair (and a creditable job), and A Perfect Murder (Andrew Davis, 1998) based on Dial M for Murder, with Michael Douglas and Gweneth Paltrow, a forgettable movie already forgotten. According to Van Sant (as stated in his DVD commentary), it is likely there will be many more attempts at remaking Hitchcock's classics in the future, film being a young art barely a century old, and therefore with plenty of opportunity for repetitions. Repetitions aren't all unfavorable: for one, they help us remember the originals. The other arts repeat: Euripides rewrote the plays of Sophocles; Shakespeare borrowed the Hamlet plot from his Elizabethan predecessors; Racine copied the ancients; opera librettists fed on Greek and Roman mythologies; and sculptors thought it a hobby to copy one another. By the way, not all people were offended by Van Sant's Psycho: Patricia Hitchcock, who played a minor role in the original and was a consultant in this one, said her father would have been flattered by the remake of his movie 40 years later; and Joseph Stefano, the screenwriter of the original Psycho, was more than eager to accept the job of re-writing the second Psycho script.

Remaking movies is not confined to our era of course. Films were remade routinely from the start, and the practice in Hollywood and elsewhere has long been established for a number of reasons, not the least of which has to do with commercial motives, as indeed most of the movies remade over the years were of the commercial/mainstream variety. Epics and action thrillers were sure bets to bring in the cash at the box office if they had done so the first time around. Examples abound: Ben-Hur was made three times (1907, 1925, 1959), with the last version being the most successful in terms of Oscars (11) and dollars earned (37 million); The Ten Commandments (1926, 1925), both epics directed by Cecil B. DeMille, proved equally lucrative at the box office. Not all remakes were so successful financially or otherwise, of course. In more recent times, the remarkable The Day of the Jackal (Fred Zinnemann, 1973) became the poorer and blood-soaked The Jackal (Michael Caton-Jones, 1997), and the popular CasablancaHavana (Sydney Pollack, 1990). Conclusion: remakes were made to emulate the success of the previous version, and this particular reason for making them seems as formulaic and unimaginative as the Hollywood studios themselves. Of course, there is another reason: the vanity of the director himself (or herself), and this includes Hitchcock, who remade The Man Who Knew Too Much in 1955 based on his own version of 1934, a film that some still prefer to its remake. Imitation of a master is also a reason, as in the case of Akira Kurosawa, whose Yojimbo (1960) emulated John Ford westerns, while his own Rashomon (1954) and Seven Samurai (1956) were remade Hollywood-style, The OutrageThe Magnificent Seven (John Sturges, 1960). Kurosawa also imitated great literary works from the west, Throne of Blood (1957), based on Shakespeare's Macbeth, and Ran (1985), based on King Lear. Though Orson Welles' Macbeth had been filmed in 1948, and King Lear by Peter Brook, in 1971, technically, these two Kurosawa films were not remakes but original independent productions spurred by original film and literature models. These show, among other things, that remakes can take many forms, some on a high creative level, independent of a director's vanity or commercialism. This cannot be said for Van Sant's remake of Psycho, however. (Michael Curtis, 1942) petered out as (Martin Ritt, 1964) and

Van Sant claims that his remake of Psycho should be seen as a creative rather than commercial endeavor. As he states in his commentary to the DVD edition of Psycho, he had been toying with the idea for several years, and one motivation was to renew its appeal for the younger generation. With today's young crowd opting for Michael Almereyda's contemporary version of Hamlet (1999) and Andrzei Bartkowiak's Romeo Must Die (1999), names like that of Hitchcock are becoming shadowy memories.

The original Psycho is filmed in black-and-white, not a very attractive medium in itself, and uses archaic language ("We're taking the air", says John Gavin to Vera Miles). One wonders whether Hitchcock's Psycho may have gone the way of Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941), which to a young audience will sound shrill (at times), pompous (the 'March of Time' sequence), and even irrelevant. And yet, it will take considerable audacity on the part of a younger director to try to remake Citizen Kane, shot for shot, using the same script and simulating the techniques (depth of field, montage sequences, camera movement) which made the original famous - and 'the greatest movie ever made' in many critics' lists (a position no longer undisputed, by the way.) This brings us to our point. Remakes of average, run-of the-mill successful movies (let's say, the Prizoner of Zenda, 1939, 1952) are not only possible, but also frequently quite successful at the box office, with nobody seriously minding their ephemeral prominence. A recent example is The Thomas Crown Affair (John McTiernan, 1999), which was an acceptable update of the blockbuster film with Steve McQueen and Faye Dunaway (Norman Jewison, 1968). These are relatively innocent endeavors, hardly worth objecting to, especially by those who view film as mere entertainment, if the entertainment is worth the price of the ticket. But again, great classical movies, whether aging or not, have left their imprint on all subsequent filmmaking. Who indeed will dare remake Griffith's The Birth of a Nation (though objectionable on certain grounds), Eisenstein's Battleship Potemkin, Dreyer's The Passion of Joan of Arc, Fellini's La Strada - and the list continues: the movies of Buñuel, Bergman, Antonioni, Truffaut, Godard, Rohmer, Kiarostami, Scorsese, and, basically, all of the great auteurs of the 20^th century and beyond. These are not to be touched, unless by an equivalent artist, and even then the scrutiny will be intense.

The point here is that some great movies, however one classifies them, have gained the status of significant works of art which are difficult to replace or imitate, though copies (in the plastic arts, for instance) can be made. Plays like Hamlet can be staged again and again, but once one makes a Hamlet on film (Olivier's, 1948), and the film obtains a certain cult status, one has difficulty redoing it, though one can go to the original Hamlet and stage it or re-film it again and again. This point was brought up in the debate over whether Van Sant had a viable argument (he certainly had the right) in remaking a movie like Hitchcock's Psycho, by all standards perfect. The difficulty increased when Van Sant decided to recreate the original not in the usual fashion of remakes, by modernizing plots and changing characters and settings, but as an exact copy, shot for shot. Even the original music by Bernard Herrmann was used in exactly the same scenes, and, as stated earlier, the services of screenwriter Joseph Stefano to supervise and update the original script were enlisted. The only significant change was that the modern Psycho was shot in color, and, of course, the actors were different. It was the decision to recreate an exact Psycho that unsettled critics, Hitchcock devotees, and discriminating viewers in general. Psycho, which had several sequels in the 1980s (Psycho II, III, IV), all undistinguished (but popular), had left an imprint in the American psyche (no pun) as no other film of its time, for many reasons. Though tame by today's standards of violence, it was the first truly violent movie of the American screen, and one that dared eliminate the movie's protagonist before the first half of the movie was over. The murder of Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) in the shower, an incident based on the novel by Robert Bloch, which had borrowed materials for its story from the life of a brutal serial killer, Ed Gein, from Wisconsin, had shaken movie audiences to the point that many (reputedly) were reluctant to step into a shower for months. Since then, many, Janet Leigh included, have considered the shower the most vulnerable part of one's home, where one is naked, unable to see, hear or resist an attacker. The movie brought home the realization that hideous crimes can happen within the closest members of one's family, that men and women can be victims of unrecognized madness. "My mother is ill," says Norman Bates to an innocent Marion Crane, who was in the middle of an enjoyable chat with a seemingly amiable young man in the parlor of his motel. "She sounded strong," says Marion. "I mean ill," retorts Bates, who has little realization that he is talking about himself. The movie is also a moral tale, and an ironic one. Marion, hearing Norman (puns with 'normal') speaking wisely about "private traps" and running to "one's own private island" has a change of heart during this conversation, which to her is salutary, and decides right then and there to return to Phoenix next morning, give back the money and ask for forgiveness. The colossal irony is that a madman who rescued her from her folly was the same madman who later killed her.

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It is the mystique of this movie that made Van Sant's understandable artistic intentions seem so foolhardy and frustrating. In imitating the master, he had to rise to the occasion, and might have gotten away with lesser results had he not decided to remake the original exactly and faithfully. The fact that the original was remade shot for shot, with the same dialogue (basically), the same music, and even the same screenwriter heightened the expectations of audiences, but also increased their skepticism. If one was to make the exact copy of a previous movie, what was there to be achieved? Couldn't the original movie do? Whatever the motivation, however, the fact remains that a classic remade with such ambitious standards was bound to be subjected to intense scrutiny. Comparisons were inevitable, especially by the unforgiving older audiences. For one thing, Hitchock's awesome reputation stood in the way of a fair judgment. Still, one has to be fair to Van Sant and to his honestly stated motives - to attract younger audiences, and to revive interest in Hitchcock's classic work. He certainly did attract attention, and comparisons of his film to Hitchcock's were indeed made. But being fair to his efforts does not mean giving him a free passage. In the final analysis, Van Sant's motives do not matter. One must judge the product by the results, based on one's perception of this movie on aesthetic grounds. And on such grounds the movie fails on at least three levels. First, the medium itself; the transition of black-and-white to color does not seem a happy choice, though this was one of Van Sant's stated reasons for modernizing the movie. Secondly, the actors - especially the leads - fail to achieve dimensions of character demanded by roles that have left an imprint on the art of moviemaking. And, thirdly, Van Sant fails to measure up to Hitchcock's artistic vision. Let us examine these points more closely.

Of course color seems an inevitable choice in contemporary moviemaking. Aside from Van Sant's stated reasons for choosing color, today color in film is so dominant it seems almost unthinkable that a modern movie, even of the darkest subject, could be filmed in anything but color. And yet, even in relatively recent times, black-and-white films have been made (Spielberg Schindler's List, 1993, Woody Allen's Celebrity, 1997), when the subject called for such means of expression. It must be remembered that Hitchcock himself had already made several movies in color prior to 1960 (Dial M for Murder, Rear Window, The Man Who Knew Too Much, North by Northwest, Vertigo), and that his choice of black-and white was deliberate, to mitigate the shock of blood swirling down the drain in the shower scene, and to invest the film's gothic subject-matter with an aura of gloom. But in the Van Sant version, the color itself is not so much the problem as the choice of colors. Pastel colors - pink, orange, light brown, green - predominate throughout, altering the tone of the grim tale into what seems a carefree holiday adventure. Anne Heche (who plays Marion Crane) wears a green slip in her apartment before she leaves (compared to Leigh's black), a pink dress as she flees Phoenix, and sports a pink parasol at the car lot. Even as she enters the office of the Bates motel, pink-orange-brown colors are dominant, in the walls, the desk, and the umbrella Vince Vaughn totes as he trots down the steps to meet her. The sign at the Bates motel ("newly renovated") is pink, the blood gurgling down the drain pink/orange, and later, the walls of the Loomis back room are in orange tints. This veritable deluge of oranges, pinks and light browns forces the viewer to notice the lapse of mood from the seriousness of the original to the light-hearted and essentially frivolous tone of the remake. Color and color tone affect the viewer's psychological disposition and help determine the emotions a film, and a violent film to boot, will evoke. And the lapse of mood, here from dark to rosy, is what counts against Psycho '98.

If verisimilitude were the sole criterion for accepting the Psycho remake, one would grant this movie some respite. But the result is more one of conscientious effort than ingenuity. It helps that the horizontal and vertical bars in the opening shots are the same, but the repetition seems just that - repetition, if one does not discount the now green color. The jarring notes of strings by Bernard Herrmann are now in surround sound - not that this makes any real difference. The time of day is flashed on the screen - two forty three PM, as in the original. The panning shots over Phoenix are the same, though now a helicopter shot zooms smoothly toward the hotel window, modern technology having made this possible. Inside the hotel room, Viggo Mortensen and Anne Heche, who play Sam Loomis and Marion Crane, lie in bed, she half-naked, he entirely so, in what seems to have been a prolonged sexual bout. Their conversation, though copied almost verbatim from the original film, seems flippant, lacking the urgency of the original scene. These seem two casual lovers in a nonessential fling, and the scene elapses without establishing any real suspense, as Hitchcock's does. Their complaint of not being able to see each other except in her mother's house does not sound believable near the start of the 21^st century, when this action takes place. They seem mature grown-ups not bound by the sexual inhibitions of their forbears 40 years ago. The progress from this scene to that in Marion's boss' office, with the obnoxious (in both movies), half-drunk Cassidy flaunting a pile of cash is convincing enough, though $400,000 in $1,000 bills seems far, far too much to carry in one's pocket even in today's world, where cash transactions are rare. (The $40,000 of the original movie's sum is enough to temp, but not large enough to defy logic.) The next transition, to Heche's apartment, is also smooth, though here there is a striking difference, in the colors of Heche's underwear (already noted), but also in her mood. Heche does not seem overawed by her action - as Janet Leigh was in the original - to steal the money and run. Though the camera pans to the yellow envelope on her bed, replicating the Hitchcockian finger-pointing camera movement and establishing the necessary suspense, Heche's demeanor seems too light-hearted for one who from now on will be a fugitive from the law. To her, the action of running away with that much money seems a thrill - not a fearsome plunge into guilt and delusion. The only moment Heche becomes apprehensive, and somewhat frantic, is during her encounter with the road policeman, who is a menacing presence in both movies.

Heche's light-hearted approach (which in her DVD commentary she says she adopted consciously) may be partly responsible for the deterioration of this movie's dynamics. For one thing, she does not possess Janet Leigh's extraordinary features - wide face, curved, expressive eyebrows, and large dark eyes where her inner confusion but also her determination is reflected. As she drives to her destination, Fairville, California, where she will meet her lover, Leigh appears guilty and persecuted, but also empowered. The smirk on her face when in voice-over she mimics Cassidy's surprise when he discovers she stole his money Monday morning indicates her vindictive spite against the male dominated atmosphere of her office to which she had said good-bye. Heche smiles a bit too broadly, showing more delight than fear, less guilt and more satisfaction, as she drives through the storm. A point of comparison between the two actresses' styles relates to their entrance into the motel itself. Leigh's image, full of apprehension, is reflected in the mirror in the Bates office, but Heche enters casually, hiding but not overwrought by her guilt, and still in the adventure mode. Up to this point, she has carried the movie on a relatively tolerable level of interest, having gained some sympathy from the viewer. But her performance is affected significantly, and the tone of the film in general changed, by the first appearance of Vince Vaughn as Norman Bates.

Many have argued that this film's alleged failure is owed to Vaughn's inability to measure up to Anthony Perkins' performance. Vaughn is as tall as Perkins, strong-boned, and physical, where Perkins is of a delicate, almost fragile frame, more female than male in his body language, suggesting perhaps his half female nature, since, in the psychiatrist's explanation at the end, he is entirely dominated by his mother. Perkins is also childlike (a doll is found in his room by Marion's sister, Lila, later), since his mother's half has prevented his full adult maturity. Vaughn does not capture these qualities. Unlike Perkins, he does not stutter (the 'fal-fal-falsity' of Perkins when talking of bird habits), thus depriving this scene of important nuances captured in the Perkins performance. Instead, he projects an image of a male overpowered by sexual desire, as witnessed by his masturbating when he removes the picture on the wall to peep at the undressing Heche. He thus fails to suggest a moral struggle that the 'mother side' in Norman must be undergoing while deciding to kill Marion. This struggle is betrayed in Perkins' darkening features, but no such evidence of struggle is seen in Vaughn's bland facial expressions. More important than anything else is the failure of both Vaughn and Heche to evoke any chemistry between them. Leigh's Marion is almost in a mystical mode when she enters the parlor and sees the stuffed birds, and is profoundly moved by Norman's story about his mother. She wants his mother to get well, perhaps unconsciously forming her own desire to see Norman unburdened by his gnawing anxieties and living a happy life. She is in fact so moved by his story that she resolves, right then and there, to go back to Phoenix and return the money, thus showing us, among other things, that Norman's painful human side had a healing effect on her. This meeting at the parlor between the two is in the original Psycho the crux of the movie, what makes this a morality tale rather than a common slasher/thriller, which is what it has become in the popular mind. In the Perkins version, Norman Bates is a suffering human being, crushed under unbearable guilt, destroyed by the maniacal half that is his "mother", and unable to get out of his "trap," where he is to remain in infernal flames forever. Leigh's Marion pities the young man profoundly, fathoming his anguish, though not knowing his split personality, pitying him but unable to fear him - which is her downfall. This drama is only played on the surface by the Heche/Vaughn duo, who simply repeat the lines; Vaughn in particular remains a stranger both to the levels of psychological symbolism present in the scene and also, in some ways, indifferent to Heche herself. His desire is for a woman, but not this woman specifically. In the parlor scene they are just two casual acquaintances, flirting a little, sparring on a superficial level, and in the end one does not care whether Heche's Marion has reformed and has decided to return to Phoenix or not.

The failure of the two leads to connect in the parlor scene, a crucial scene according to Joseph Stefano (see "The Making of Psycho"), is responsible for the remake's lagging emotional interest. In following scenes, in particular when the detective Arbogast (played well by William H. Macy) questions Bates, Vaughn seems more animated, and he now stutters like Perkins ('my mother is in-in-invalid'). But by now the viewer's empathy with his persona has fallen out of orbit, and Vaughn remains a liability for the rest of the film. We do not pity him, as we did when Leigh's Marion reached out to Perkins' Bates. Lack of interest in what happens next is also partly due to Viggo Mortensen, whose Sam Loomis is no match for the vigorous performance of John Gavin. Neither is Julianne Moore's somewhat outlandish Lila totally effective, and these two actors also do not connect well. Gavin is smart and heroic, pressuring Bates to elicit information and saving Lila in the nick of time, while Mortensen seems to be wasting time with Vaughn at the office as Moore is prying into the upstairs rooms of the Perkins house without much purpose. Similarly, the scene at the psychiatrist's office seems just the wrap-up of a minor episode in the lives of various uninteresting people, rather than the fitting closure of a compelling drama.

But the failure of Psycho '98 must be attributed primarily to Van Sant himself and to his apparent lack of artistic vision. Again, one can ask, what was it that he was trying to achieve? A mere repetition of Hitchcock's movie? What can an exact copy do for a viewer, especially a viewer to whom the original is so readily available? More specifically, an exact copy of a movie made 40 years earlier, even with minor modifications of style, does not seem a realistic endeavor. Times change, and so do people's outlooks. Most of the successful remakes have taken this factor into consideration, adjusting levels of violence and other aspects to meet contemporary audience sophistication. Hitchcock's audiences were relatively innocent and more susceptible to shock when violence erupted on the screen. Today's audiences are gorged with violent spectacle. The shower scene, though still shocking and frightening, can no longer traumatize them to the degree that it did then. Van Sant could have brought violence to a significantly more intense level, or delivered it with more innovation. Still, the level of violence alone could not have saved his film. For Hitchcock's Psycho does rely entirely on violent scenes, like the stabbing scenes, to produce its effects; it had a director who could penetrate audience's inner fears, irrational desires, and mad urges, and actors who could simulate these feelings perfectly. Hitchcock, above all, wanted to communicate with his audiences; their pity and fear mattered to him. Without a sufficient expression of these mental states, the tragic drama, what the original Psycho is, remains on a level of emotional liquidation and indifference.

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© Constantine Santas, October 2000
http://www.sensesofcinema.com/contents/00/10/psycho.html

Why remake PSYCHO? Gus Van Sant Interview

Why remake PSYCHO?

For almost four decades the very concept of motion picture suspense has been synonymous with the title Psycho. When Alfred Hitchcock originally made Psycho in 1960, it was the most frankly sexual and violent motion picture ever made by Hollywood, frighteningly so. Audiences were stunned by the stark portrait of a maniacal killer, and thousands thought twice about their personal hygiene choices after the relentless experience. Since then, the techniques Hitchcock used to compel viewers to the edges of their seats have been often imitated yet nothing could ever usurp the first-time viewing of Psycho. In fact, the movie was recently named the second most scariest movie ever made in a TV Guide poll and was chosen by the American Film Institute for its list of the 100 most important American movies.

Psycho penetrated deeply, indelibly, under the skin of all who entered the lurid yet undeniably alluring world of the Bates Motel, overseen by its unusual owners Norman Bates and his elderly, domineering mother. This effect was entirely due to the taut, suspenseful screenplay by Joseph Stefano and the masterful filmmaking of Hitchcock, whose voyeuristic camera, staccato cuts and willingness to plunge fully into the darkest recesses of human psychology made the film unlike any cinematic experience that had come before. By all accounts, Psycho was then and remains today a masterpiece. So why would anyone mess with it?

Director Gus Van Sant has stood up to one of the biggest taboos in contemporary filmmaking by recreating the motion picture Psycho. Although it has never been done before, Van Sant was intrigued by the notion of taking an intact, undeniable classic and seeing what would happen if it were made again-with a nearly identical shooting script-but with contemporary filmmaking techniques.

Part tribute to Hitchcock, part new introduction for younger audiences, part bold experiment, the recreated Psycho is not even remotely intended to supplant the 1960 masterwork. Rather it is a fresh look-a sort of inquiry into what happens when someone from a new generation wields the same razor-sharp blade.

Gus Van Sant has had a Psycho fixation for a long time. It all began when he started thinking about the notion of Hollywood remakes. Van Sant noticed that, almost without exception, only those films that had fallen out of popularity, relegated to lonely midnight movies and late-night cable, were ever remade. Big, enduring classics were rarely tackled, except in cases where they were altered beyond recognition.

Van Sant, known for his bold choices in filmmaking, wanted to take on the challenge of truly recreating an incredible, landmark movie, in the same way that different directors repeatedly tackle the material of Shakespeare's Hamlet because it is so rich and resonant. He chose the ultimate American classic: Psycho, a film that had been far ahead of its time in 1960 and still surprises viewers today.

The initial reaction from almost all quarters was astonishment: "Why on earth would you want to do that?" Some thought it outrageous, others thought it sacrilege.

But Van Sant had an answer.

"I felt that, sure, there were film students, cinephiles and people in the business who were familiar with Psycho but that there was also a whole generation of movie-goers who probably hadn't seen it," he says. "I thought this was a way of popularizing a classic, a way I'd never seen before. It was like staging a contemporary production of a classic play while remaining true to the original."

Like many film-watchers of his generation, Van Sant first saw Hitchcock's Psycho on television. It wasn't until years later that he got the opportunity to enter the full-scale nightmare on the big screen, and then only because he was a film student. He wondered if millions of potential Psycho viewers of the future would ever have a chance to check into the Bates Motel on the big screen, and if they would increasingly be put off by the film's 60s-era film stock, fashions and mores.

He continues: "There is an attitude that cinema is a relatively new art and therefore there's no reason to 'restage' a film. But as cinema gets older there is also an audience that is increasingly unpracticed at watching old films, silent films, black and white films. Psycho is perfect to refashion as a modern piece. Reflections are a major theme in the original, with mirrors everywhere, characters who reflect each other. This version holds up a mirror to the original film: it's sort of its schizophrenic twin." As Van Sant began to formulate his argument for a 1990s Psycho recreation, the reaction from Universal Pictures (which owns the material), the Hitchcock estate, screenwriter Joseph Stefano and Van Sant's new producing partner Brian Grazer of Imagine Entertainment, began to bolster his ambitions. Grazer was one of the project's earliest champions, having had his own fascination with it.

Says Grazer: "I always saw Psycho as being the first truly scary movie that operated independent of time. It doesn't deal with trends or fashions; the drama, suspense and horror work independently of any particular era. I liked the idea that Gus would follow Hitchcock's lead taking the same script, the same basic plans for the sets, the same schedule and infuse it with a new sensibility, with different actors."

"Of course in theatre, that happens all the time because it's not only the production we value but the play itself," he continues. "Restating it offers people the opportunity to re-experience a great work. And now we're experimenting, trying to do the same thing with a film."

Adds executive producer Dany Wolf: "Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho is something that's precious to everybody here and something Universal is very proud of. But it seemed possible to do this and at the same time be very reverential in our treatment of the film."

But the real test for Van Sant came in approaching those who had worked with Hitchcock in 1960. Would they call foul and protest? Patricia Hitchcock O'Connell, the director's daughter who also acted in the original film and serves as technical consultant on the current one, set the tone by opining: "I think it's very flattering. I know my father would be flattered that Psycho is considered such a great movie that it deserves to be remade. My father always made his pictures for the audience. He didn't make them for the critics. He didn't make them for himself. His number one reason was the audience and audiences don't change."

She adds: "Of course every director has his own style. I think Gus' style is great and I think my father's was great. Seeing Gus remake my father's picture in his own style has been fascinating to watch."

As for others, typical of the reaction was this from Marshall Schlom, the original script supervisor. "When I got the call," recalls Schlom, "I just didn't really believe what I was hearing. Gus Van Sant wanted to do an homage to Hitchcock. The film was essentially going to be the same film we shot, just brought up-to-date. I thought of it as an indication of how much this film has meant to people. It will offer young people today an opportunity to see it and maybe they will also go back and watch the original."

He continues: "When we were shooting the film in 1959, we didn't know we were making a classic. It didn't cost much money. Mr. Hitchcock made it with his television film crew. It didn't seem to have the magnitude of Rear Window or North by Northwest. It was just a little picture. And you should see it in those terms-just as if you were being led down a garden path beautifully by a man who wants to tell you a story."

To go for that same purity of experience audiences received in 1960-being led down the garden path to somewhere chillingly dark and horrifying-Van Sant hoped to use Joseph Stefano's original shooting script. But the question remained: would the writer of one of the most analyzed, imitated and psychologically rich scripts ever in American cinema be interested in a revisitation of his work?

http://www.psychomovie.com/production/productionwhy.html

Books on remakes/sequels

Film Remakes by Constantine Verevis http://www.amazon.co.uk/Film-Remakes-Constantine-Verevis/dp/0748621873/ref=sr_1_1/026-5893833-1973208?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1188079933&sr=1-1

The Horror Film (Inside Film) by Peter Hutchingson
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Horror-Film-Inside/dp/0582437946/ref=sr_1_4/026-5893833-1973208?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1188079477&sr=1-4

Cinema Sequels and Remakes, 1903-1987 by Robert A. Nowlan
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Cinema-Sequels-Remakes-1903-1987-Robert/dp/0786409371/ref=sr_1_1/026-5893833-1973208?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1188079584&sr=1-1

Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror Film Series and Remakes: An Illustrated Filmography, with Plot Synopses and Critical Commentary (Hardcover) by Ingrid Pitt
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Science-Fiction-Fantasy-Horror-Remakes/dp/0786401559/ref=sr_11_1/026-5893833-1973208?ie=UTF8&qid=1188078876&sr=11-1

DVD Confidential 2: The Sequel
http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=Boj0DqI2LuQC&pg=PA15&dq=movie+sequels&sig=WzM5j1lmcr8RJ09PucULzS9B0nE#PPP1,M1

Which sequels are better than their originals?

Here's an interesting question that's always asked but I never feel really addressed. Which sequels that have been made are actually better than their originals? I'm sure you'd be happy to admit that in most cases the original is never beaten, and it's quite rare to see the sequel do any better, but is that really what happens, and are there sequels that do actually turn out better?

There are a number of things to actually think about here. Are the sequels judged to be better if they make more money or on popular opinion? It's something that people have been thinking of over at Wikipedia in two different articles. One covers sequels that are considered to be better than the originals, and the other covers sequels that are better due to box office improvement. Let's look at both and see what the general trend is before we all wade in with what we know to be true - that is, what sequels we all consider to be better than the original.

Without looking at box office figures, the article at Wikipedia looks at IMDB ratings and does a clever little comparison, these are the results it comes to on which sequels are better:

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982) better than Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979)
Mad Max 2 (1981) better than Mad Max (1979)
X2 (2003) better than X-Men (2000)
Spider-Man 2 (2004) better than Spider-Man (2002)
Before Sunset (2004) better than Before Sunrise (1995)
For a Few Dollars More (1965) better than A Fistful of Dollars (1964)
Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991) better than The Terminator (1984)
Evil Dead II (1987) better than The Evil Dead (1981)
The Bourne Supremacy (2004) better than The Bourne Identity (2002)
Bride of Frankenstein (1935) better than Frankenstein (1931)
Toy Story 2 (1999) better than Toy Story (1995)
Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back (1980) better than Star Wars (1977)

Now that is an interesting list, and I have to say that I'd agree with most of it. I'm not so sure about Mad Max, Evil Dead or Bourne, but the rest I would have to agree with. I think if they looked again and considered the new Batman they might find a new addition to the list.

The other listing looks at box office difference, and it's here that there are big surprises. The biggest being that there are a full thirty nine sequels hitting this category. Here's a list of some of the interesting or bigger ones:

Terminator 2: Judgment Day returns were 434% better than The Terminator
Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me returns were 282% better than Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery
Dawn of the Dead returns were 233% better than Night of the Living Dead
Rambo: First Blood Part II returns were 219% better than First Blood
The Road Warrior returns were 170% better than Mad Max
Highlander II: The Quickening returns were 164% better than Highlander
Evil Dead 2 returns were 147% better than The Evil Dead
Lethal Weapon 2 returns were 126% better than Lethal Weapon
Shrek 2 returns were 65% better than Shrek
The Matrix Reloaded returns were 64% better than The Matrix
Saw II returns were 58% better than Saw
The Chronicles of Riddick returns were 47% better than Pitch Black
The Bourne Supremacy returns were 45% better than The Bourne Identity
Die Hard 2: Die Harder returns were 42% better than Die Hard
X2: X-Men United returns were 37% better than X-Men
Toy Story 2 returns were 28% better than Toy Story
The Karate Kid Part II returns were 27% better than The Karate Kid
Hannibal returns were 26% better than The Silence of the Lambs
Resident Evil: Apocalypse returns were 25% better than Resident Evil
Mission: Impossible 2 returns were 19% better than Mission: Impossible
A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2 returns were 18% better than A Nightmare on Elm Street
Blade II returns were 17% better than Blade
The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers returns were 9% better than The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
Aliens returns were 8% better than Alien

I'm shocked by things like Rambo, Mad Max, Die Hard, Karate Kid, Hannibal, Resident Evil and Blade II, yet you can understand these sorts of figures. They represent people going to see it, and you're going on the back of the previous film and how good it was as well as all the new sequel hype. The audience are paying to see it and it's only after they have paid they might have realised how poor it is.

Any there that you would say are inidicitive of people paying and then wishing they hadn't?

There's a further twenty that are listed under the category of second sequel returning more than the first sequel, and I'll copy them all here because it makes for interesting reading.

Once Upon a Time in Mexico returns were 122% better than Desperado
Goldfinger returns were 106% better than From Russia with Love
Army of Darkness returns were 94% better than Evil Dead 2
Friday the 13th Part 3 returns were 69% better than Friday the 13th Part 2
Scary Movie 3 returns were 54% better than Scary Movie 2
Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome returns were 53% better than The Road Warrior
A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 3 returns were 49% better than A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2
Rocky III returns were 47% better than Rocky II
Clear and Present Danger returns were 47% better than Patriot Games
National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation returns were 45% better than National Lampoon's European Vacation
Spy Kids 3D: Game Over returns were 30% better than Spy Kids 2: The Island of Lost Dreams
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly returns were 27% better than For a Few Dollars More
Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith returns were 26% better than Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones
The Enforcer returns were 16% better than Magnum Force
Batman Forever returns were 13% better than Batman Returns
The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King returns were 10% better than The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade returns were 10% better than Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi returns were 7% better than Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back
Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth returns were 4% better than Hellraiser II
Austin Powers in Goldmember returns were 4% better than Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me

Again you can see the reasons why, with Star Wars, Lord of the Rings and Evil Dead, but who would have guessed the order? Some you just realise the audience were coming out wondering why they had wasted their money. Which do you think show poor judgement from the audience?

So, with all those figures and other peoples lists, the real question remains. What, in your mind, are the list of sequels that are better than the original? I think we can safely base that question on enjoyment and rating after the film rather than box office returns!

http://www.filmstalker.co.uk/archives/2006/03/sequels_that_were_better_than.html

Halloween Remake: Rob Zombie Interview

E X C L U S I V E

READ THE OFFICIAL PRESS RELEASE

JUNE 16, 2006
We begin our coverage of the next HALLOWEEN film with a short interview with writer/director Rob Zombie. Thanks to all the fans that submitted a question to Rob... we received over 2000!

QUESTION: Why do you feel that you are the person to take on this project? (from Anna in Florida)
RZ: Because I have a vision that I believe can work. If I didn't I would go near it.

QUESTION: Can you please clarify what you mean when you say you are "not making a sequel" and that your Halloween will be a "re-imagining" of the series? Isn't that just another word for "remake"? (from Cole in Chicago)
RZ: Well, sort of. I am basically making a prequel and a semi-remake of the first film all in one. So really in theory there will be more original content than remake content. That's why I don't like the word "remake."

QUESTION: What is the title of the next movie, and are you finished with the script yet? What can you reveal about the storyline of the new movie? (from Eric in Canada)
RZ: HALLOWEEN, no and not much.

QUESTION: For the next film, are you planning to maybe go into what Michael's childhood was like and how and why he became the serial killer he is? Is it at least going to take place in 1978? (from Sylvain)
RZ: Yes, I think this aspect of the story is very important in order to bring new life to the character of Michael Myers. The film begins in 1978.

QUESTION: Halloween is the most influential horror movie ever made and I for one am not happy about a remake. All of the remakes to hit theaters - from Texas Chainsaw to The Omen - were total crap. Why touch a classic like Halloween? Why would you even risk this? (from Mike in New York)
RZ: Like I said in Question 1, I wouldn't even go near this project if I didn't feel like a had a fresh, worthwhile approach to the material. Besides, I'm not touching one single frame of Carpenter's classic. That film will remain as it always has.

QUESTION: The masks in the past 4 Halloween films were all different, and some of them weren't scary. Are you going to re-design the mask, or will you stick to the Captain Kirk version that was used in the original film? (from Todd)
RZ: I want to keep the mask classic.

QUESTION: Are you you planning on using any previous characters from the first 8 films (like Laurie Strode and Dr. Loomis) or are you planning something entirely new with no old characters? (from Jamie in Scotland)
RZ: Both, but I won't tell you which just yet.

QUESTION: Since you are a musician, will you be doing the entire music score for the film, or will you be collaborating with anyone else? And will you integrate any of John Carpenter's classic themes into the score? (from Craig)
RZ: I do not plan on doing the score for this film myself other than in a supervisor position. I have already done some work with the composer and we both feel that Carpenter's themes are classic and will play an important role.

QUESTION: Your films are known for their gore, but the Halloween films haven't been very gory, they have been more suspensful. Do you plan to focus on gore or suspense in your version of Halloween? (from Paula)
RZ: I plan to focus on character, mood and terror.

QUESTION: How does John Carpenter feel about your involvement in the new Halloween? (from Zack in Georgia)
RZ: I talked to John about it and he was vey supportive. He basically said, "That's great Rob, go for it and make it your own." What more do I need?





http://www.halloweenmovies.com/h9_lobby.html