Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. Even if you pretend there is nothing special about this night, even if you go about your daily business, you can just feel the aura of mystery crackling in the air. Most everyone now knows that Halloween comes from Samhain, the old Celtic holiday dedicated to honoring the dead. I love the sublime sense of spookiness that envelopes Halloween night: the out-of-the-ordinary sensation that hits you when masked goblins and witches show up at your door. The way the dark night seems especially still, as if all the secrets and spirits of time past are suspended in the atmosphere. The flickering orange glow of jack-o-lanterns, which are perched upon windows like sentries standing a solemn vigil. And, of course, honoring the life, death, and rebirth of the Earth by cooking with late-harvest food. Like pumpkin.
It's also a modern Halloween tradition to scare yourself silly with horror movies. I'm not a fan of horror movies, as I happen to be really squeamish, but I make an exception for the classic flick Psycho, helmed by none other than the Master of Suspense himself, Alfred Hitchcock. I love everything about this movie, from the characterizations to the retro-hip low-budget look, but most of all I love how Hitchcock made the film so scary without showing a lot. A lesson many modern horror directors should learn? You decide. But now enjoy Dan's thoughts:
Pyscho
The most amazing thing about Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho is its simplicity. Everything that could be considered a production value-splurge exists only to create atmosphere and never extravagance. Although Hitchcock had been making color movies since 1948's Rope and used them to great effect in The Trouble with Harry, he knew the best way to shoot Psycho was in black-and-white. The infamous shower scene was behind this decision. Red blood is just plain gruesome. Suggested blood is far more nuanced and, ultimately, shocking. Indeed, much of the film is suggestion rather than explanation. The misunderstanding of this or the importance of black-and-white were the two most blatant mistakes in Gus Van Sant's garish remake. The Bates Motel, where weary traveler Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) meets her untimely demise, is only as dark and gothic as the secret its scrawny and creepy manager (Anthony Perkins, in the role that immortalized him) harbors in the house atop the hill.
If you've conversed with me long enough about film you know that Vertigo is my favorite Hitchcock movie, but Psycho is the one that best justifies his title as "Master of Suspense." It works almost flawlessly, the extraneous explanation at the end notwithstanding. The key to Psycho's success is how joyfully it pops each cliche it presents. Norman is hardly intimidating, not even when Marion upsets him when she mentions his dear mother might do better in a mental institution. The motel itself looks more disturbing than frightening. One of the heroes, or rather, one of the protagonists (since heroism is not celebrated in this movie) was first seen breaking the old Production Code taboo of premarital intercourse. In fact, Psycho, Some Like it Hot, and The Apartment are often labeled as the three films which brought down the Production Code. The lead character, in whom we invest so much, is knocked off before half the movie is over and, finally, motherly love has never been quite like this.
Best scene? Possibly the lead-up to the first murder. Hitchcock was by now so masterful at creating suspense that each cue--the silence, Marion's solitude, the abandoned motel--all spell doom. Our anticipation is rewarded when we see a foggy figure through the shower curtain opening the door and moving towards the shower. The curtain is pulled...and the rest is history!
*Shiver.* It's a classic. Thanks, Dan! Now for the recipe.
These pumpkin-sage scones were scarily good. They came from my trusty Baking: A Commonsense Guide book. Soft, buttery, with the perfect blend of creamy pumpkin and tangy sage...mmmm. Definitely more of a treat than a trick. They were devoured in a very short time. But enough of words! I bet you want the recipe, so here it is:
Pumpkin-Sage Scones
Adapted from Baking: A Commonsense Guide
Ingredients:
- 2 cups self-rising flour
- 1 cup canned pumpkin
- 3/4 oz butter
- 1 Tbsp chopped sage
- 1-2 tsps milk
- Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a baking tray with parchment paper.
- Sift the flour into a bowl along with a pinch of salt. Rub the pumpkin and butter into the flour using your fingertips. Stir in the sage.
- Add the milk to make the mixture smooth and cohesive. Place the mixture on the tray. Shape it into a ball and roll it out until it is about 1 1/4-in. thick.
- Cut the top of the round into eight segments (do not cut too deeply into it). Bake for 15-20 minutes, or until lightly browned and cooked through. Serve warm.
Next time: World War II Applesauce Cupcakes and Saving Private Ryan
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