REVIEW: Psycho 3 (1986)



Psycho III: D+

Norman Bates is crazy again. He has a new stuffed mother, a Psycho House and a motel to run, and sex-shame rage killings to get to. But he has these people bugging him about all kinds of shit.

First there’s this nun with a death wish. She is supposed to kind of resemble Jamie Lee Curtis’ Mom from Psycho One. And she has the same initials, which is tripping Norman out. But this nun looks nothing like Jamie Lee Curtis’ Mom at all-so it didn’t trip me out-but then again I’m not a sex-shame rage killer so I see things pretty clearly. Norman, you know, he’s got issues. He starts to think maybe she’s the reincarnation of Jamie Lee Curtis’ Mom come to haunt him or something.

Also there’s this reporter and this music hobo who want to get famous by finding out if Norman’s up to something and what it is. And all these people do some things and then some people get killed and Norman just gets fussier, but it’s left up the viewer to decide if he’s gone back to sex-shame rage killings.

This groupie with great natural boobs gets killed in a phone booth, and then other stuff happens until Norman loses it and goes back to being crazy, even though he might not even be the one doing the killing. I can’t really remember, because it’s a stupid mystery that doesn’t make sense.

But I do remember this: this is just the names of Psycho and Norman Bates pushed through as a boiler-plate eighties slasherfest. And it sucks.

And the attempt at the end to reflect the awesome closing shot of Psycho One is just ham-handed and piss-poor and doesn’t make sense. And these days just a scary look isn’t enough, so they have to have Norman caressing a mummified severed hand instead of just staring like in the awesome Psycho One. Also, Anthony Perkins (who many might remember from Mahogany) doesn’t need to be doing close ups at this point in his life.

Then you find out that this turd was actually directed by Anthony Perkins. I would think he would be a better director because he was in some legal thriller directed by Citizen Kane. And you want to say “Didn’t you learn nothing? Fuck You, Tony Perkins!” and you want to yell it in a Cuban accent because you’re so mad. Then you remember he’s dead and you feel guilty for a few minutes.

But I will say this: for a gay man, Anthony Perkins knows how to cast great natural boobs.

D+ over all. But you will enjoy it more if you are the type of person who likes to see a talented artist shit on his legacy with hack work.

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