|
|
|
|
|
|
![]() |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
You won't see the names Terry Williams, Danny Greene or Richard C. Harris on the credits of the film Psycho. That's because assistant film editors, supervising sound editors and music editors did not receive screen credit in 1960. Only 33 people received screen credit on Psycho, including the actors and the film's director, Alfred Hitchcock. By contrast, 261 people received screen credit on The Silence of the Lambs, and 400 people received screen credit on Basic Instinct, both films in a genre similar to Psycho. Times have changed.
Terry Williams came to assist George Tomasini on the recommendation of Russell Schoengarth, an editor he had been working with at Universal. The opportunity to work on Psycho brought Terry into the Hitchcock "family," a group of people whom Hitchcock came to know and like, and chose to work with over and over again.
As with most Hitchcock films, the shooting of Psycho was meticulously planned. Saul Bass, a brilliant title designer who did the titles for Psycho, drew the storyboards for the shower sequence, and judging from them, the scene was shot very close to what was originally envisioned. We all
|
a big day. |
Back in those days, directors rarely came into the cutting room. Dailies were screened in a theater, and subsequent cuts of the picture were also screened. Notes were taken for changes and then made later on without the director present. Terry says there were very few changes made from George's original first cut.
As Terry recalls, "Very little was changed. It wasn't one of those runnings where you go back and forth. Tomasini knew what Hitch liked and wanted. Things were storyboarded and plan-ned very carefully in the shooting. I don't mean to say "camera-cut," but it was usually obvious what needed to be done
|
|
|
![]() |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Terry remembers a lot of setups in the shower sequence, but he says they were very short takes. "In almost any situation where you have a sequence with a whole lot of setups and takes, you abandon style and go for what the film will give you. And that's what George did."
I asked Terry if George discussed the sequence with him. "Oh, he probably did, but I don't remember. Whoever thought Psycho-to tell you the truth, they thought this was just a filler. They didn't even want to give me a script. They were so secretive about everything." Terry insisted on
|
|
Because Hitchcock didn't come into the cutting room, George and Terry worked alone. "I really doubt that many of those old time editors would have allowed a director to spend any protracted amount of time in a cutting room. As a matter of fact, it was hard to get a director to come up and look at a clip on a moviola."
The only time Terry does recall Hitchcock coming to the cutting room was to show his wife Alma his synchronizer. Alma Hitchcock had been a negative cutter and editor in England. "He just thought it was fascinating," says Terry, "that we could take a magnetic tape that you couldn't see
|
an era when film was cut with scissors. |
We can only imagine how amazed Alma would be today. Psycho was made in an era when film was cut with scissors. Nothing was spliced at the time the cut was made. The cuts were clipped together and put on a shelf. Later, the assistant would hot splice a reel together in the splicing room. A frame would be lost between each cut.
"If the editor decided the cut didn't work and wanted to put it back," says Terry, "you made the hot splice, then took looping ink and painted the frame out. You made a black frame. It wasn't like slapping a scene together with clear tape. Editors would scissor cut the film, put it on a rack, and let it cook for awhile. In other words, don't splice it. Then when you run it later, your intentions will show on the screen."
Terry thinks the flexibility we have with film today is wonderful. But he cautions that with the digital systems it is possible to lose sight of your original plan. "I would venture a guess that if
|
|
After all is said and done, the only thing that matters is what's up there on the screen. Terry sums up the success of Psycho.
"The thing that stands out in my memory is when we had the cast and crew run. Now, here are a bunch of adult filmmakers of different varieties and their wives sitting in a projection room. And when Arbogast (Martin Balsam) goes up to the old lady's room and she comes out and she-well, there were people standing up and screaming. I mean, these are people that had worked on the film. They probably read the script or at least knew the story. But it just blew everybody's minds. The combination of Hitchcock's direction, Tomasini's cutting and Bernard Herrmann's music made it just great. People developed a psychosis about taking showers."
Danny Greene started out as an apprentice at MGM, after getting out of U.S.C. in 1952. He later got a job as a splicer at Revue, which was a subsidiary of MCA. He worked his way up to
|
|
Danny recalls, "I said, 'Sure, it would be fun to do a feature.' Tomasini was a lovely man. I only met him a couple of times. He was always in a suit. We all wore suits then, suits and ties. It was much more formal. So I assigned two fellows to it and I stayed on top of it pretty much."
The first time Danny saw Psycho was in a screening room. George and Terry were there, as were composer Bernard Herrmann, Stan Wilson (head of the Universal music department) and the two sound editors working with Danny. Richard Harris was the music editor, one of the first independent music editors in town. (Richard died in 1995). Although there was no temp music or effects in the film at the time, Danny says the shower sequence worked brilliantly. Hitchcock did not attend the screening.
"I think he had so much faith in George, he didn't feel he needed to be there. The old timers worked that way. They wouldn't come in and drive you crazy."
Hitchcock was, however, on the dubbing stage. Danny remembers him being very quiet and gentlemanly. "He knew what he wanted. He was very precise, with a dry wit, and in a dark suit and tie
|
|
|
![]() |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"So I asked him to break for dinner and thought, okay, I'll get right down to it. I went to the market down the street and bought the biggest roast I could find. I got a knife from the prop shop, which was ironically the one that was in the picture, and I just recorded stabs. Stabs from the gristle side, stabs from the meat side-something I had never done before. And the sound of that was just vicious. Slicing flesh. It was horrible.
"So Hitchcock came back. We had cut those things in so fast, because there must have been ten or whatever it was, and he just smiled and said, 'Oh, yes. That's lovely.' He just got off on it."
Hitchcock leveled the stabs to what he wanted, but the mixers played them by themselves first during the rehearsal, and Danny says they were terrible. "They would just freeze your blood, and
|
|
The roast, however, did not go to waste. "After we finished dubbing that reel I took the meat home and told my wife what had happened. I was married then. She made a pot roast that we ate for the next couple of days. We had friends over. Pot roast with potatoes, carrots and onions. It was delicious. Tenderized I must say, from all the stabs."