Legacy sequels are all the rage right now. While it’s not the only thing that horror studios seem to greenlight, they are undoubtedly the most visible. It’s horror as cross-generational ritual. The icons of our parents’ past are synthesized with an up-and-coming group of new players. The horror lives on. It endures beyond decades; beyond centuries. While there have been some unequivocal successes (looking at you, Scream and Halloween), there have been just as many duds—Texas Chainsaw Massacre was a visual delight, but a narrative failure.
While it very much feels like a new thing, the studios’ response to changing filmic tastes and distribution methods in a cinematic landscape irrevocably changed by the pandemic, the impetus isn’t quite as cynical. Often, there’s a genuine story worth telling—the box office incentive is a lucky incidental. Decades before the legacy sequel became the legacy sequel, Anthony Perkins and director Richard Franklin created one of the most successful of all time. In Psycho II, it’s been 22 years, and Norman Bates is coming home.
Sequels to horror classics aren’t exactly rare. Jeannot Szwarc’s Jaws 2 is a raucous delight, even if it’s nowhere near as effective as Spielberg’s original. Exorcist II: The Heretic was… a movie that had Linda Blair. It’s camp, I guess. Effectively, though, no horror classic was or is safe from the sequel treatment, legacy or not. Yet, among the canon of horror greats, Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho, adapted from Robert Bloch’s 1959 novel of the same, seemed an odd choice. The film controversially ended with the crime solved and the murderer, Perkins’ Norman Bates, locked away for good. The pop psychology doesn’t really work. By the end, it stands to reason that Norman’s mother, Norma Bates, has fused with his psyche. All’s well that ends well.
In 1982, Bloch would write Psycho II, a sequel to his original novel, one the executives at Universal Studios “loathed.” The studio was allegedly threatened by the forthcoming release, and as Hollywood moguls are wont to do, they began development on their own sequel. Tom Holland of Child’s Play fame was tapped to write the script, and Franklin, an old student of Hitchcock’s, was hired to direct. The filmic Psycho II had Norman Bates released from a mental institution. He returns home, desperate to ingratiate himself into something resembling a normal life. But, his plans are derailed when someone—perhaps Norman unknowingly—starts offing the people around town.
Where Bloch’s written work was an admittedly effective (and scathing) response to the burgeoning slasher genre, Franklin’s Psycho II is a love letter to the subgenre’s forefather. Franklin apes Hitchcock to great effect, striking the perfect balance between homage and subversion. Perkins, initially hesitant to return to the role, is a powerhouse. He’s given considerably more to do, an early template for this generation’s trauma-stricken Laurie Strode. Perkins sells Bates’ humanity, though never too earnestly. The audience is never quite sure that Norman hasn’t regressed to his homicidal urges.
The plot unfurls with camp delight. There’s plenty of bloodshed, gaslighting, and legacy players, including Vera Miles’ return as Lila Loomis. Meg Tilly is a sensation as Norman’s sole friend, and as a kind of trauma-informed whodunnit, there’s rarely been anything quite as effective.
Fan reception was and remains mixed. Writer Tom Holland remains a big fan of his work on the screenplay, though some contemporaneous critics felt the full-borne tilt into slasher savagery was antithetical to what Psycho should be. While present-day interpretations are subject to the vagaries of film analysis, there’s no denying Psycho was intentionally self-serious. Psycho II is the opposite. It’s as deranged and funny as it is frightening.
Most importantly, though, it’s worth considering whether Psycho II even needed to exist. While it was certainly conceived out of spite (sometimes, the best things are), as an early augur for the legacy sequel, its influence remains potent to this day. Not just as a standalone slasher sequel, either, but as the dispensation for every legacy horror sequel that dredges its dead back up. I’m not here to say whether that’s a good or bad thing, though given the film’s remarkable success ($34 million against a $5 million budget is no small feat), the legacy sequel stage was set way back in 1983.
With Psycho II, the filmmakers achieved the impossible. They crafted a sequel to a beloved, classic property that stood proudly on its own merits. It had an empathetic reason to exist. Though it didn’t seem like the case—few films feel as self-contained as Psycho—there was more story to tell. The entire team told it beautifully. In an era of legacy sequels, it might be too easy to preemptively shun newly announced titles. There’s no way they can do The Exorcist again, is there? But maybe they can? If they could bring Norman Bates back home decades ago, nothing is impossible. When there’s blood to spill and money to be made, Psycho II is the auspicious template.
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