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Mother Knows Best: The Identity of Evil in “Bates Motel” vs. “Psycho”

bates_motel_101Follow the author of this article on Twitter: @joeynolfi

What ruins Norman Bates?

It’s the question on everyone’s mind as they tune in (in record numbers) to A&E’s drama series “Bates Motel,” the “before” to Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. As we approach the series finale (airing Monday), are we any closer to identifying the source of Norman’s otherness—or at least a probable catalyst which makes Psycho a credible “after” for one of the most prominently disturbed characters in cinema history?

At what point does a slightly awkward, attractive, brainy do-gooder of a teenager become a sexually confused, murderous social deviant? The answer has yet to be found within “Bates Motel,” which is just beginning to find its legs as a drama as we come to the conclusion of its first ten-episode season.

If Psycho is Hitchcock horror at its finest, “Bates Motel” is a few Asian sex slaves ahead of being a watered-down Nancy Drew mystery, with the ending already set in stone nearly fifty years ago.

Psycho teaches us that evil has an inherent home within his mother, after all.

…that has to be it, right? We need someone to blame, and if Hitchcock’s extensive filmography has taught us anything, it’s to never trust a woman.

But, the assumption that Norma’s ways are cloying and possessive (damagingly so) has implicated her since the release of Psycho. “Bates Motel” hasn’t exactly shown us otherwise, and for good reason. It’s a classic argument made against the infamous maternal presence in Norman’s life, which is never anything more than a corpse and sloppy-drag incarnate in Hitchcock’s horror masterpiece, but a much more tangible presence in “Bates Motel,” as Norma Bates’ relationship with her son serves as the framework for the series instead of a thematic crutch. If “Bates Motel” were in clumsier hands, the ideology of the 1960 classic might have bled into the contemporary cloth. Norma isn’t worth exploring as a character; she is now and has always been the pre-established burden of femininity; the bane of Norman’s existence; the origin of blame and the source of Norman’s life and his demise. But it’s time we view such analysis as archaic, much like Alfred Hitchcock’s objectification of women in nearly every film he ever made. It’s time to move past old assumptions because, frankly, “Bates Motel” is in some ways the worst potential multi-season narrative ever conceived. With a conclusion that’s become common knowledge far outside just the film community, how does a series earn its legs as a prelude for an already-exposed ending? The answer lies in its treatment of gender and its disregard for Hitchcock’s ideologies.

“Bates Motel” doesn’t incriminate Norma as a woman, but rather as someone on, in the simplest terms, an intense power trip. Having the series set amidst a modern backdrop (complete with iPhones and high school raves) alleviates the foreboding presence of old-timey perspectives on the issues of transvestitism, motherhood, and gender identity which made Psycho at once a blessing and a curse for the queer identity in cinema and society. The time is here and the time is now; dressing Norman up in women’s clothing simply wouldn’t have the same immediately-othering effect as it did in the 60s.

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The strength of “Bates Motel” lies in its insistence on not equating anything, from convoluted morals to pure murderous evil, with gender. Whereas Hitchcock’s Psycho epilogue seeks to explain, bit by bit, Norman’s psychological and gender-based transformation from a man’s mentality to a woman’s, “Bates Motel” instead sifts through the psychobabble bullshit and delivers a pure representation of actions without generalized implications.

The series begins as Norma (Vera Farmiga) and Norman (Freddie Highmore) move to the fictional town of White Pine Bay, Oregon (a town with a local economy supported by Marijuana distribution and patrolled by corrupt police officers staking a cut), to start afresh after the demise of the family patriarch. Norma is a woman, but she’s also in a position of power, enough power and conviction to move her son across the country to build a placid state of blissful isolation from the past. Here, “mother” is not inherently synonymous with “possessive,” but Norma’s relationship with Norman is, at least we’re to believe, almost solely responsible for his social ostracizing in White Pine Bay. When Norma is in trouble (which happens shortly after the move), Norman’s life is put on hold. He needs to “be there” for her, as he often explains, which often gets in the way of his social land sexual progress. Norma is raped in the first episode of the season, and Norman aides in the fending off (and eventual death and disposal of) the attacker. Norma hides the evidence, and Norman assists. Norma is found out, and Norman puts his life on hold to assure her freedom. Whatever the circumstance, Norman is implicated alongside Norma by pure choice. It isn’t until the midway point that we come to understand that Norman’s clingy behavior is predisposed. He has a mental deficiency, one which makes him hallucinate, to see things that aren’t there. Often, it’s images of his mother telling him what to do. We’ve come to observe in waking life that Norma is far more subtle in her controlling ways. She likes to imply, to suggest, and to coax, but never command Norman to do her bidding. Their bond is assumed, and Norman has simply grown to subconsciously accept it as normal, even in the face of strong opposition to the relationship from his brother, Dylan (Max Thieriot), and English teacher, Miss Watson (Keegan Connor Tracy). Norman is constantly overshadowed by people far more influential than he. Acting on the advice and whim of others is Norman’s specialty.

There’s only one explanation (or exposition, one might argue) for this that’s been given thus far. After guiding our suspicions onto Norma for the death of her husband, it is revealed midway through the season that it is Norman, in a fit of all-encompassing psychotic rage after his father harms Norma, who commits murder. This had apparently been going on for quite some time as Dylan, who left the family a few months prior to escape Norma’s manipulative ways, consistently reminds her of the turbulent marriage and its damaging effect on her sons. While Norman is directly responsible for his father’s death, he only did so because of Norma’s involvement. It is a subconscious trigger which fondles Norman’s psychotic nerve to protect his mother, manifesting itself in other ways in his conscious state, particularly within his skepticism regarding her relationship with Officer Shelby (Mike Vogel). The bond is psychological, physical only to the extent of Norma’s keen insistence that her son’s proximity remain consistently close. The bond is not gendered, but rather familial. Would these implications against Norma be any different if the roles were reversed? If Norma had been the physically abusive spouse instead of her husband? Understanding the bond and its balance between mental and physical (and Norman’s inability to accept casual affections from anyone else including Bradley, his crush and first sexual partner) is key to understanding the effects of possession itself versus lumping everything into the category of maternal smothering.

Although Norma is obsessively possessive of Norman, her power as a character is derived from her strong-headed will and conviction to her actions, not solely based on active sexual power or pull on Norman’s sexuality or any other man’s. We’ve been given enough information at this point to know that she’s more than capable of getting herself out of complex situations where coupling is only a loose connection versus a binding commitment. Shelby is a sexual deviant (he traffics sex slaves in and out of his house) Norma sees fit to use for her benefit only after he initiates an attraction. Norma falls into the right line of attraction at the right time. She doesn’t proposition him and serve her vagina with a side of deception, rather it is Shelby who pursues a relationship while Norma falls for him outside the net of intent she’d originally cast by complying with his advances; she grows more invested than simply indulging his desire for her own gain (and the opportunity he presents, on the opposite side of the law but willing to do things like steal incriminating evidence from the storage room to ensure it won’t be used against her), so her power over him transcends both of their sexual desires into something emotionally-based. He wants to protect her, and she is more than willing to accept the help without lording sex over his head; she doesn’t have to. “I love you, you idiot,” he tells her in Episode 4, and she smiles; they kiss as Shelby pushes Norma against her car amidst a backdrop of the misty bay. It’s almost sickeningly reminiscent of a romantic melodrama of the 1950s, indicating that Norma is able to have “real” relationships outside of the one she has with Norman. While sex might be a component, it’s not the definition. And Norma’s frustrations about her son’s budding sexuality seem to stem more from her knowledge of how she experiences sex as a would-be tool for manipulation rather than an all-out attempt to smother him. Again, this is not inherently a “gendered” issue, working against Hitchcock’s insistence on adorning Norman in women’s clothing and a wig as an immediate sign of othering.

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Norma’s ability to have an onscreen sexual relationship with a man who isn’t Norman’s father only strengthens “Bates Motel” as a challenger of Psycho-era ideals of female sexuality. In 1960 her son is a social deviant, a feminized male demonized not only for his murderous ways but also because he kills under the guise of being a woman—of believing he is a woman, of actively making himself a woman. His mother, dead throughout the entirety of the film, lives on only in Norman’s mind. He becomes his mother, or whatever memory of her Norman keeps alive within his own psyche, an unimaginably taboo subject for an audience not nearly as socially evolved (or accepting) as the one watching “Bates Motel” today. With or without being a killer, Norman is othered purely by gendered deviance. The “normal” side of him is calculating and precise; he is fully aware that there is a hole in the parlor wall into the adjacent hotel room. He actively peeps through it, wanting to see a young woman undress, which ultimately triggers the maternal murders. The clothes don’t materialize on his body. It is Norman who puts the dress and wig on, who grabs the knife from its resting state, and plunges it into Marion Crane’s body. It’s a female-driven, female-executed act of male sexuality (even the word penetration resonates masculinity). In “Bates Motel,” we’re still exploring a Norman who is unquestionably uncomfortable with the murderous dreams he has of Bradley (Nicola Peltz), after she reveals that their one-night stand was in fact just a one-night stand. Norman still passively receives the thoughts from his subconscious.

Present-day Norman is not mentally unstable because his mother is a woman with similar mental complexes; it is authority, rather, and the convolution of authority above Norman, which contributes to his state of being. Norman’s father, as we glimpsed a few episodes back, is abusive; lazy; violent. His mother, pushed into a corner far too many times, retaliates. She wins. But she wins through Norman, as her victimization triggers Norman’s patricide. It is Norman rebelling against the male side he’s yet to fully explore (his budding sexual escapades with Bradley, confused emotional attachment to Emma, his acceptance of Dylan as a pseudo father figure, etc., each indicate that Norman is not yet a “man,” but very much still an inexperienced boy on the verge of technical adulthood). Gender plays a role in Norman’s transformation, but it is far from the defining factor of his psychological evils. Similarly, Norma’s relationship with Shelby is not deviant because it is sexual, but rather pathetic in its teetering between legitimacy and fraudulence. Norma enjoys the romantics, but the burden of murderous guilt (and the benefits screwing a crooked cop with ways to decriminalize her public name) prompts her to keep the relationship from gaining as much momentum as Shelby would like. Shelby desires a nuclear family. He wants to claim both Norma and Norman as his own. The problem is he already asserts himself as a dominant sexual force as a sex-slave trafficker. He owns “vagina,” but not “sexuality,” and Norma is far too concerned with preserving an ideal state of illusion to toy with a man predisposed with old-fashioned perspectives on female sexual and domestic possession.

I’ve heard many fans of “Bates Motel,” new to the world of Psycho or longtime Hitchcock savants criticize Norma’s newly personified presence in this TV series. “Sure, blame it all on the woman,” I remember reading on Twitter after the premiere episode, the budding feminist anger building to a slow boil as the show continues. If the viewer is angry that Norma is a convoluted person, or angered by the fact that she’s a woman, or interprets that anger as the show being anti-woman, that’s simply the viewer’s responsibility and lazy projection. Norma is not evil because she’s a woman. At no point does “Bates Motel” offer us any indication that women are inherently deceptive and smothering with the intent to turn their sons into serial killers; Norma’s gender is treated as happenstance, as an afterthought; she is simply Norma. Do we need someone to blame? Is Psycho going to be any less impactful if “Bates Motel” offers an alternative framework to the one we’ve believed for fifty years? More importantly, is it inherently evil of us to assume that a male’s source of deviant corruption can only come from his mother? She’s a mother with questionable parenting skills, but skills which can’t be seen as the sole ingredient in the murderous monster mix of an adult Norman Bates—that is, perhaps, until season 2.

Follow the author of this article on Twitter: @joeynolfi

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“Top Model”-gate; Bianca, Shannon, respond; WHAT DA $*#& HAPPENED!?

 

It was a fitting conclusion, the “America’s Next Top Model: All Stars” finale was. The aftershocks of which are currently rippling through the entertainment industry. By “entertainment industry” I mean the 18 gays and their hags (and those on the RTV + IMDB forums, holla!) who still watch this shit (The CW’s core demographic, you know).

 “Top Model” has cemented itself as part of a dying breed of reality programs aimed at authenticating a weekly “competition,” validating its winner with the promise of household name status. We’ve seen them come and go on “Making the Band,” release-and-drop from a label on “Idol,” hawk a collection on BlueFly.com and fade away into some costume design gig for local theatre post-“Runway”. But “Top Model” has always taken the cake for showcasing some of the most rotund of egos out there, regardless of their post-show “work” including an AppleBottoms spread as its biggest accomplishment (I’m looking at you, Jade) or a successful career in something that isn’t…well…modeling (I throw a side eye to you, Ms. Yaya).

Sadly, “All-Stars” did nothing but reaffirm that this is a show whose battle cry has been reduced to the sounding off of its various contestants via Twitter, which ultimately happens to be far more entertaining than anything that’s happened to “Top Model” all year (yes, I’m looking at you too, Cycle 16). Although that whole “Lisa popping up on the wrong side of the pool” thing was fucking tight).

The “All-Star” season was nothing more than a platform which gave already self-inflated (attached to under-producing “models”) egos the impression that they’re actually entitled to a place in an industry the “competition” suggested they were part of. 14 “icons” (as some of their Twitter account biographies self-proclaim) duked it out in an all-out exploitation of why “Top Model” hasn’t worked for about 5 years now (I realize that’s a generous overstatement).

If this show were anything at all about modeling, there wouldn’t be an “America’s Next Top Model” at all. Modeling isn’t something you can “reward” week after week. You have a model’s face, proportions, height, etc. or you don’t. You’ll most certainly never have to record your own single (Banks herself will be the first one to tell you that’s not a good idea… “Shake Ya Body,” anyone?) , produce a fragrance, or validate your own flag-football/hot dog designing/salad bowl posing skills (I kid you not; each of these was a challenge on cycle 17).

The aftermath of last night’s crowning of Lisa D’Amato as the ultimate “Top Model” All-Star (which basically just means a free Express campaign, Vogue Italia Spread, and “Guest” correspondent job on “Extra”) was met with a slathering of loathsome comments unto Tyra’s Facebook page. Twitter exploded. The forums ignited. The Allicats hissed.

And Angelea apparently peaced.

You see, a quick bit of editing post-ridiculous runway challenge (note to all aspiring models; you’ll never have to do anything remotely close to that) incriminated Angelea as…well…something.

 “She just didn’t seem right,” Lisa said, mentioning something further about Angelea’s uneven behavior and “racing” heart. We’re shown the diva in question demonizing herself, mug plastered with a blank stare in some spliced (what was undoubtedly shot as) B-roll I’m sure she was entirely unaware would later be used to incriminate her as some sort of drug addict (which I’m sure the producers wanted us to think).

Cut to commercial.

We return on panel, the usual post-runway judging that would involve the three contestants we, you know, left at the runway. But that’s not the case; Tyra and Nigel announce that Angelea has been disqualified. Some dribble about producers “finding something out” that rendered her ineligible to compete.

“We’re back in LA for a special judging,” Tyra says. “We decided it would be best to evaluate Lisa and Allison’s work in a separate judging that does not involve Angelea.” Lisa and Allison appear before us as if nothing had ever happened. Actually, Allison’s you-can-totally-tell-what-she’s-thinking-at-all-times face sort of read “Tyra be stealin’ cookies from da jar, I know, but I ain’t tellin’ ‘cept fo’ a lil raised eyebrow.

Time clearly passed, though. Enough time for Lisa to get a haircut and Allison’s eyebrows to return to a normal shade of brown as opposed to the horrendous shade of blonde they’d been dyed in Greece.

Rumors abound that Angelea initially won the competition in Crete, blabbed about the win to someone (press, Facebook, Twitter…who knows), was stripped of her title, refused to show up for the re-shoot (where Lisa would have won) and was then disqualified.

 This wouldn’t be entirely unconventional, especially not by “Top Model” standards. I mean, Angelea was the only bitch on this show who was actually eating right the fuck out of Tyra’s stretched (gloved, no doubt—commonfolk germs spread easy, you know) stigmata-plagued (in her own mind) hand. Tears, like, actual legit tears were shed by Angelea over the most minute of slip-ups this cycle. She took this shit seriously, bawling harder than when we first met her (under extremely unfortunate circumstances) three years ago. “This means so much to me,” she’d commonly spout. Clearly.

Can’t say the same for Allison, on the other hand, who couldn’t have given the slightest hint of a fuck (“Today you’re shooting with *insert no-name photographer here*! *other girls jump, Allison remains motion/expressionless*) about this whole damn thing (every judging, her face read an equal “you mean I have to fucking stay again?”).

Lisa was the most logical choice for a winner based on the “All-Star” format right from the get-go. She was vocal about using this to promote herself (“This win will be a great platform to advertise my new album!” she says), understanding the show for what it is and relishing in all its trashy exploitation. It’s just too bad she spent years trashing the show in interviews “We were all Tyra’s little monkeys” she said in an Out.com feature).

That point holds true when you examine Janice Dickinson’s surprisingly candid (actually, I’m more surprised it took her this long to finally admit it) interview yesterday, where she told Tyra to “suck a bag of stank,” revealing that CoverGirl actually picked the “Top Model” winner. It was rather difficult to discern who the eternal-bitchface CoverGirl rep “liked” last night (she seemed “tolerant” of Lisa, at best) but Angelea’s not-seen-on-the-show-but-still-leaked-to-the-public shot was, by technical standards, the best “CoverGirl” shot of the bunch.

Shannon Stewart claims the finale was taped in Crete (“I flew back with the girls..they did not reshoot the finale” she boasted on Twitter a few hours ago). Unbeknownst to her, Tyra actually said they were filming the finale in LA on last night’s show (What the fuck other reason would they have to fly back to LA for the finale MINUS Angelea? Calling attention to this was the huge mistake here).

Bianca Golden was quick to side-eye bitchslap Stewart’s comments to the ground (still waiting for Shannon’s obligatory “don’t crucify me” response to Biancus Pilate), telling her to “shut up” (burn) and revealing that she “knows” what really happened. To unlock the secret? She needs 20,000 followers by tomorrow (the thirst for publicity is never quenched, apparently).

Even Isis took the opportunity to sound off smack dab in the middle of this profound war of propheticism. “Producers promised us (decoys) would be shown in finial [sic] runway show.. cant believe it until you see it, and I hear it wasnt shown #antm” [sic, once again, one giant sic on this whole fucking thing]. She apparently didn’t get the memo about other more important matters, but this deserved a shout out in its own aloof absurdity as well.

First of all, I can’t stop thinking about is how fucking awful Allison has to feel right now. What was that production call like? “Umm…we have to reshoot you losing again…again.” And I’m not talking about “awful” as in “sad” but as in “I FUCKING THOUGHT THIS SHIT WAS OVER” (did you see the look of relief on her face last night?).

To be honest, I really don’t know what to make of this whole thing. The show shot itself in the foot after the first season, when the Jades, the Lisas, and the Angeleas ensured that no one from this show would ever be taken seriously in the modeling industry. I guess arguing about this kind of thing is like trying to bitch about what type of cancer is worse. There’s really nothing “good” that can come out of either side.

But right in the middle of it all is Lisa, happy as a clam.

“You’re all all-stars and stars to me,” she said on Twitter today.

Hearts and smiles, I suppose. I suppose your very own Italian Vogue spread that you can dangle over their heads will do that to you.

Leaked ANTM Cycle 15 Finale Photos…Notice Anything?

…if you can spot the difference between these two leaked photos from the December 1 finale of Cycle 15 of America’s Next Top Model, you just might have your answer to who will be gracing the pages of Italian Vogue early next year.

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…and trust me, the “proof” is there, if you can find it. Hopefully this isn’t a decoy photo (as ANTM producers have been inclined to leak in the past), seeing as if this girl actually won, Tyra and co. might actually start to build some credibility in the real fashion world. You already secured Italian Vogue, Miss Tyra, don’t fuck it up and pick the gremlin who’s “worked” in New York and LA for years but resorted to a reality competition program to bolster her dead-because-she-is-not-a-model “career”. I’ll let you figure out who that is.

Cheers if this little gift leak from baby Jesus is any indication as to who the real winner is.