In one of the funniest scenes in Hitchcock's feature film, which was released a few years ago and revolves around the years in which Alfred Hitchcock made his most famous film, Psycho, played by Anthony Perkins, we see Hitchcock anxious at the entrance to the theater hosting the film's premiere. He doesn't yet know how the audience will react, and this time his anxiety is twofold. On the one hand, he wonders whether the criticism will destroy the film or elevate it. On the other hand, he wonders whether the audience will like the film, and thus cause others to flock to see it. This time, he produced his own film, invested his life's savings in it, and even mortgaged his house.
Amidst this anxiety, the pivotal moment inside the hall occurs when the killer enters the bathroom to kill the heroine in a scene that no one will ever forget. Fatal knife slashes are distributed over two hundred short shots, into which Hitchcock invested all his cinematic imagination and skill. Hitchcock remained outside, not daring to enter. The silence emanating from inside the hall was terrifying and astonishing. The seconds passed heavily, tiringly, and our director was filled with anxious and terrified anxiety. Suddenly, the sound of terror moved from inside the hall to where Hitchcock stood. The screams of the audience began to explain what he was seeing on the screen, interrupted and gasping. Hitchcock understood that his film's message had been received. He realized that his game had worked on the audience. Immediately, he began to jump up and down, gesticulating like an orchestra conductor, who does not follow the audience's shouts, but anticipates them.
Hitchcock, with a split second and the waves of his hands, determined the terrified reactions of the hundreds of people inside. He knew his film had succeeded. We believe it was at that very moment that Hitchcock's theory was articulated: "I control the audience more than I control the actors."
Years later, Hitchcock would explain this theory: "It is the management of suspense and the control of the audience's reception of it. A management that relies on a technique whose goal is to excite the spectator's mind. The spectator is usually in a special position that requires mental guidance, so that he learns how to slip himself into the atmosphere of terror that I create for him. Suspense is not a mental exercise, but a sensory process. There are many in our profession who are satisfied with depicting characters talking and nothing else. The formulas that I propose are different. For example, I have a character carrying a package with an explosive inside. He is unaware of this, but the audience knows it. On the other hand, the director must be the only person who knows when the bomb will explode. Then, when I determine that it will explode within the next five minutes, everyone must expect it to explode at that very moment. But in the final moments, I defuse it so that it does not explode, and then the impact of the new surprise on the audience is greater."
The truth is that this directing "principle," which Hitchcock explained so simply late in his life, was something his audience was content to live by. For himself, what delighted him most was the manipulation of the fear he created within the audience in the approximately fifty films he made between his English and American periods, spanning more than half a century. He was a master of the cinematic art, even if none of his films won the Oscar, which he would nonetheless receive for "his overall cinematic presence and creativity" in 1978, two years before his death in 1980.
When he passed away, Hitchcock was eighty years old. He was born at the beginning of the twentieth century, a century he would come to be considered one of its greatest innovators, and almost coinciding with the birth of the art of cinema, which would become his field of movement and creativity. (From an introduction by Ibrahim Al-Aris)