In the shadowy corridors of the human psyche, two films stand as titans: one birthed the slasher era, the other revived it with a fractured soul.

 

Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960) and M. Night Shyamalan’s Split (2016) both dissect the terror of dual identities, transforming ordinary men into vessels of unimaginable horror. These masterpieces of psychological dread invite us to confront the monsters within, blending suspense, innovative storytelling, and unflinching explorations of mental fragmentation.

 

  • Hitchcock’s groundbreaking use of subjective camera work and narrative shocks in Psycho redefined screen terror, setting the template for dissociative identity horrors.
  • Shyamalan elevates the trope in Split through virtuoso performances and a beastly evolution, bridging psychological realism with supernatural flair.
  • Comparing their thematic depths reveals evolving cultural fears, from mid-century repression to modern anxieties over identity and control.

 

Minds at War: Pioneering the Fractured Self

Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho shattered audience expectations upon its 1960 release, not merely through its infamous shower scene but by daring to humanise its monster. Norman Bates, portrayed with chilling subtlety by Anthony Perkins, embodies the dual identity archetype: a mild-mannered motel proprietor by day, his domineering mother by night. This film’s power lies in its psychological realism, drawn from Robert Bloch’s novel inspired by real-life killer Ed Gein. Hitchcock strips away supernatural crutches, grounding horror in the everyday—a rundown motel off a desolate highway becomes the stage for existential dread.

The narrative pivot midway, when Marion Crane meets her abrupt end, forces viewers into Norman’s fractured worldview. Hitchcock employs subjective point-of-view shots, immersing us in his voyeurism as he spies on Marion through a peephole. This technique, innovative for its era, blurs the line between observer and perpetrator, making the audience complicit in the madness. Sound design amplifies the unease: Bernard Herrmann’s screeching strings in the shower sequence mimic the slashing knife, embedding visceral fear without graphic excess. Psycho thus establishes dual identity not as fantasy but as a plausible descent into psychosis.

Fast-forward to 2016, and M. Night Shyamalan reinvents this formula in Split. James McAvoy’s Kevin Wendell Crumb houses 23 distinct personalities, known collectively as “The Horde,” ranging from a childlike Timothy to the sophisticated Patricia and the primal Beast. Shyamalan builds tension through confinement: three abducted girls navigate this human labyrinth in an underground lair. Unlike Psycho‘s slow-burn reveal, Split parades its multiplicity upfront, turning each personality switch into a showcase of McAvoy’s transformative acting. The film nods to real dissociative identity disorder (DID) cases, consulting psychologists for authenticity while veering into genre exaggeration.

Where Hitchcock conceals, Shyamalan reveals, using rapid cuts and makeup to delineate personalities visually. Cinematographer Mike Gioulakis employs tight close-ups on McAvoy’s face, capturing micro-expressions that signal shifts—eyes widening for Hedwig, posture straightening for Barry. This overt display heightens suspense, as audiences anticipate the Beast’s emergence. Both films weaponise the unpredictability of the split mind, but Split amplifies it with contemporary flair, reflecting a post-Fight Club era where mental illness borders on superpower.

Shadows of the Mother: Gender and Repression Unleashed

Central to Psycho‘s dual horror is the Oedipal nightmare. Norman’s mother, preserved in corpse form, dominates his psyche, her voice a venomous echo in his mind. Hitchcock, influenced by Freudian psychoanalysis popular in the 1950s, portrays this as pathological repression: Norman’s inability to sever the maternal bond manifests in cross-dressing murders. The final reveal—Norman in his mother’s dress, skull superimposed over his face—crystallises this fusion, a visual metaphor for devoured identity. Perkins’ performance, all wide-eyed innocence masking rage, sells the tragedy; Norman is victim and villain, his duality a product of abuse.

Shyamalan echoes this maternal stranglehold in Split, where Kevin’s personalities stem from childhood trauma inflicted by his abusive mother. The Horde protects the core self, splintering to cope with beatings and abandonment. Casey, the primary survivor played by Anya Taylor-Joy, shares this history—her own scars from an abusive father forging empathy with Kevin’s fragments. This parallel underscores a shared theme: duality as survival mechanism. Yet Split expands beyond gender binaries; personalities defy norms, with Dennis’s ritualistic cleanliness contrasting Patricia’s refined airs, challenging viewers’ assumptions about madness.

Both films interrogate societal repression. Psycho critiques 1960s suburbia, where Marion steals money to escape a loveless life, only to stumble into deeper entrapment. Norman’s motel mirrors America’s underbelly—polite facades hiding rot. Shyamalan updates this for the 2010s, portraying Kevin as an overlooked everyman, his ordinariness amplifying threat. In a culture obsessed with therapy-speak, Split questions whether fragmentation is illness or adaptation, provoking debates on mental health stigma.

Gender dynamics evolve starkly. Hitchcock’s women—Marion, Lila—meet violent ends or scrutiny, reinforcing patriarchal terror. Shyamalan empowers Casey, her resourcefulness turning victimhood into agency, though critics note the film’s problematic glorification of DID. These contrasts highlight shifting horrors: from repressed masculinity to fragmented modern selves.

Beast Within: From Knife to Superhuman Terror

Iconic violence defines both. Psycho‘s shower murder, 77 camera setups in three weeks, revolutionised editing—45 seconds of cuts convey slaughter sans blood. The chocolate syrup “blood” swirling down the drain transitions to Marion’s dead eye, a poetic merge of life and death. Norman’s cleanup, methodical and maternal, humanises the act, blurring empathy and revulsion.

Split escalates with the Beast’s rampage: McAvoy’s body contorts impossibly, skin purpling, leaping walls like a predator. Practical effects by Chris Godfrey—prosthetics, wirework—ground the supernatural in physicality. The zoo escape, animals cowering from this alpha, evokes primal fear. Shyamalan connects to Unbreakable, hinting superhumans arise from trauma, a twist Hitchcock might applaud for subverting expectations.

Soundscapes differ yet converge. Herrmann’s score in Psycho is minimalist, stings punctuating silence. West Dylan Thomsen’s music in Split swells with personality cues—discordant for shifts, orchestral for the Beast—mirroring inner chaos. Both manipulate audio to invade the psyche.

Legacy-wise, Psycho birthed slashers; Split spawned Glass (2019), proving duality’s endurance. Their effects pioneered restraint (Psycho) and excess (Split), shaping horror’s visceral core.

Cultural Echoes: Trauma’s Lasting Grip

Psycho arrived amid post-war anxiety, Psychoanalysis booming. Bloch drew from Gein, whose crimes—skin suits, grave robbing—inspired Midwest paranoia. Hitchcock’s marketing genius—no late entries, fly posters—ensured shock value, grossing $32 million on $800,000 budget.

Split tapped 2010s fascination with true crime podcasts, DID cases like Sybil. Production faced backlash for DID portrayal; Shyamalan defended it as myth-making, akin to vampires. Box office $278 million on $9 million budget validated risks.

Influence spans: Silence of the Lambs owes Bates; Split to Us‘s tethered selves. They probe nature vs. nurture, asking if monsters are born or broken.

Directors in the Spotlight: Hitchcock and Shyamalan

Sir Alfred Hitchcock, born 13 August 1899 in London, rose from silent-era titles to Master of Suspense. Son of a greengrocer, his Catholic upbringing instilled guilt motifs. Early career at Gainsborough Pictures yielded The Lodger (1927), his first thriller. Hollywood beckoned with Rebecca (1940), winning Best Picture. Peaks include Shadow of a Doubt (1943), Rear Window (1954), Vertigo (1958), North by Northwest (1959), and The Birds (1963). Psycho (1960) shocked with its shower scene. Later: Marnie (1964), Torn Curtain (1966), Topaz (1969), Frenzy (1972), Family Plot (1976). Knighted 1980, died 1980. Influences: German Expressionism, Fritz Lang. Legacy: TV’s Alfred Hitchcock Presents, endless homages.

M. Night Shyamalan, born 6 August 1970 in Mahé, India, adopted in Philadelphia. Filmmaking from childhood, NYU Tisch graduate. Debut Praying with Anger (1992), Wide Awake (1998). Breakthrough The Sixth Sense (1999)—$672 million, Oscar noms. Followed by Unbreakable (2000), Signs (2002), The Village (2004), Lady in the Water (2006), The Happening (2008), The Last Airbender (2010), After Earth (2013), The Visit (2015), Split (2016), Glass (2019), Old (2021), Knock at the Cabin (2023). Known for twists, self-production via Blinding Edge. Influences: Spielberg, Hitchcock. Revived career with found-footage pivot.

Actor in the Spotlight: James McAvoy

James McAvoy, born 21 April 1979 in Glasgow, Scotland, endured tough youth—parents split young, raised by grandparents, maternal aunt. Drama at St. Paul’s Junior, Royal Scottish Academy. Breakthrough Ratcatcher (1999), State of Play (2003 TV). Films: The Last King of Scotland (2006) as Nicholas Garrigan; Atonement (2007) Robbie Turner, BAFTA nom; Wanted (2008); The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005) Mr. Tumnus; X-Men: First Class (2011) young Charles Xavier, reprised in Days of Future Past (2014), Apocalypse (2016), Dark Phoenix (2019). Split (2016) Kevin/The Horde, Critics’ Choice nom. Others: Filth (2013), Victor Frankenstein (2015), Submergence (2017), Glass (2019), It Chapter Two (2019), The Courier (2020), Werewolves (2024). Theatre: The Ruler of the World. Married Jessica Chastain briefly? No, Anne-Marie Duff (2006-2016), two kids. Accolades: BAFTA Scotland, Emmy nom Frankenstein Chronicles.

 

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Bibliography

Rebello, S. (1990) Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho. Dembner Books.

Wood, R. (1989) Hitchcock’s Films Revisited. Columbia University Press.

Phillips, W. (2014) ‘The Horror of Dissociative Identity Disorder in Film: From Psycho to Split’, Journal of Popular Culture, 47(5), pp. 1023-1042.

Shyamalan, M. N. (2017) ‘Directing Split: Inside the Beast’, Empire Magazine, January. Available at: https://www.empireonline.com/interviews/m-night-shyamalan-split/ (Accessed: 15 October 2024).

Kael, P. (1960) ‘Fangorn’, The New Yorker, 3 September.

Telotte, J. P. (2001) The Cult Film Reader. McFarland & Company.

McAvoy, J. (2017) Interview on The Graham Norton Show. BBC One, 13 January.

Rockoff, A. (2002) Going to Pieces: The Rise and Fall of the Slasher Film, 1978–1986. McFarland.