What is Alfred Hitchcock’s most famous film? Psycho is an easy candidate. The 1960 film changed filmmaking forever, codifying many elements of the slasher horror genre, and frightening audiences for generations. Psycho has been parodied, paid homage to, and referenced by modern directors enough that perhaps its initial shocks and surprises are dulled. Even so, the film is beautifully effective and still plays its tricks with murderous glee. Alfred Hitchcock was a sneaky bastard throughout his career, but Psycho is another beast. Hitchcock had to fight for this film to be made, and put his entire career on the line. Psycho was a stunning departure from his more glamorous 1950s period. It was made on the cheap, using a TV crew, and actors with little star power. Well, all except one: the great Janet Leigh as the poor, unfortunate Marion Crane—a high ranking favorite Hitchcock character for me.

Sometimes when people talk about Psycho they shorten the length of screen time that Marion occupies before her untimely death. And, it is not hard to see why. Marion’s death is ostensibly the most well-known scene in the film; the “shower scene” is one of the most classic onscreen murders. Janet Leigh was the biggest star in the film in an atypical role. Hitchcock deliberately cast a marquee name so that her death is a major twist. Memory can fast forward through the first half of the film because the “shower scene” is so ingrained into our collective brains.

Marion Crane, however, completely dominates the first half of the film. Hitchcock accounts for almost every second of the time we spend with Marion. The film starts with a title card, telling the audience the exact location, the exact date, and the exact time. Starting from there we follow Marion for close to 36 hours—and we experience every moment of this period. The structure of the first half is really striking. Marion starts in a hotel, then to work, then to her home. She goes on the run, sleeping on the side of the road, trading in her car, going to the bathroom to count the money, and then drives again, landing at Bates Motel. In the car, she imagines the fallout to her leaving—Leigh’s face displaying varied emotions in tight close up. With Marion as the driving force of the narrative, Hitchcock is invisibly setting up her death so that we really feel her absence.