In his latest feature-length deconstruction then, documentary-maker Alexandre O. Philippe, director of Doc Of The Dead and The People Vs. George Lucas sets out to provide a definitive anatomy of the sequence which changed the way filmmakers approached violence. With the world currently girding itself for the return of one of the ‘torture porn’ progenitors in the form of the Saw franchise’s resurrection, it seems timely that someone has taken the time to delve into the sequence that arguably kickstarted it all. It’s compelling, not least because the visual presentation, black and white, with a motel room background sets the various interviewees amongst the unmistakeable iconography of the film. So complete is the film’s contextual grounding of the shower scene that this reviewer forgot all about his longing to see a systematic deconstruction of the sequence itself; instead I was absorbed by the film’s opening third as it searches for an answer to the scene’s origin. When the blow by blow deconstruction finally comes, it’s utterly comprehensive as one would expect from a feature-length documentary on such a short scene. Links to the original screenplay and storyboards follow, as does a dramatised recreation of the same extract from the source novel, although this interesting comparison loses its impact somewhat due to an ill-advised attempt to recreate the novel’s account of the murder on film. This of course, does not work. There can only be one truly meaningful filmic rendering of Psycho, as Gus Van Sant was to find out in 1998. Nonetheless, it’s truly fascinating to watch a range of gifted filmmakers and critics pick the scene apart, each of them picking out different beats and details, to decode the scene’s meaning. Perhaps the most fun is seeing some of these talking heads discover fresh meaning as they view the scene again, the joy of discovery etched on their faces; truth be told, it’s like a dead arty Gogglebox for cinephiles. All this, of course, only serves to emphasise the scene’s brilliance, the sophistication of its construction, that it’s still revealing its secrets to these intrepid seekers of meaning, years after they’ve first encountered it. Hitchcock himself wanders through the documentary in the form of archive footage, offering nuggets of wisdom, that the interviews then expand upon. Throughout the course of the documentary, comprehensive attention is given to the scene’s cinematography, sound design, set dressing and especially, its editing which offers some intriguing glimpses into the art of its construction. Of course, no breakdown of Psycho’s iconic shower sequence would be complete without a discussion of Bernard Herrmann’s unforgettable music and the film’s treatment of the score doesn’t disappoint; neither does the documentary’s own score which combines effectively with the black and white aesthetic that is redolent of the original film’s feel. Dressing the documentary in this way is fun as gradually, construction and deconstruction begin to merge together. As a result, we, the audience are transformed into the voyeur, into Norman Bates peeping through the hole in the wall, gratified by the undressing of the film’s secrets as it is divested of its many mysteries. It’s a fruitful technique, different to the courtroom debate approach he sporadically used in The People Vs. George Lucas, but effective and aesthetically impressive. One wonders how Philippe will seek to frame his next documentary, Chestburster! which will focus on the iconic scene from the original Alien. Is it too much to ask that the original cast and crew will reprise the chestburster moment? (Even if that doesn’t happen, I’d pay good money to see a leaked tape of him trying to convince Ridley Scott to do it…) The documentary also briefly explores the various film movements that influenced Hitchcock’s vision. A montage of many of the parodies, homages and pastiches is also fun and acts as a further reminder of the scene’s undeniable cultural impact. For film buffs especially, it’s a treasure trove of easter eggs and analysis that won’t fail to please. From The Simpsons right through to Game Of Thrones, the legacy of Psycho is omnipresent and explored here in loving detail. Cinephiles, fans of Hitchcock, fim history geeks, slasher movie lovers or those who are simply into good old, well-made documentaries won’t be disappointed. 78/52 is in selected UK cinemas now.