Oh how lovely Norman is, and the owl which was previously a symbol of Mother's presence in the conversation between him and Marion now appears behind Mary in her conversation with Lila. Poor Norman, but the ending is just a little stupid, it would've been perfect if that woman had just been some random lady from the town come to see how he's doing, after all she probably watched him grow up. She looks like Mother and is dressed like Mother so of course he would still poison her tea and carry her up - he's seen Mrs. Bates' corpse, yet Mother "speaks" to him on the phone, therefore that can't be Mother, therefore he must have a new Mother. Ah, poor Norman, the sheriff says Mary claimed to the end that he was the one who was crazy. And he is, poor man, having slipped into that which he was so timidly determined to stay strong against. And that is precisely why he is so harmless. It is Mother who kills, after all. Norman is only the dutiful son. Poor Norman. His poor hands. Mary tried to do what Ginny did, but Norman is...not Jason Voorhees. He's not blindly obedient (my dear Jason). Norman knows Mother is old and cruel and vicious and murderous, and he will do what's best for her and endure the abuse even as it destroys him. Even as it defines him. And so no matter how badly he is cut up, he will continue trying to help Mother, even as she (Mary in disguise) continues to attack him, oh poor Norman. Poor Norman. This movie is so beautiful, so loving to the original and to Norman Bates and the spirit of the original. Its thesis, coming out in 1983, is something of an indictment of slasher excess in violence and sex, while simultaneously acknowledging that that is Mother's position as well. It hopes to find a proper, human medium. And gives us another Mother in Lila Loomis, formerly Lila Crane, manipulating her daughter in her obsession with destroying Norman Bates even though he was found not guilty by reason of insanity and has been helped quite successfully (the Mother personality completely regressed until Lila's cruel antics brought it out again), and he wants so desperately to be normal and to live a good, happy life. Poor Norman, oh, poor Norman. Dear Norman. He still is so plagued by his own issues - whatever therapy they used to treat him contained no continuing regiment of medication, and as he (crying) says, has destroyed his memories of his mother, as she was, both good and bad. Except for the sandwiches. He is still trapped forever at 14 or so, boyish smile, boyish mannerisms, boyish view of the world, with a child's ideas of justice and truth and right and wrong and hope and fun and fear. And this cannot be fixed, because even if he were to seek therapy (more common now in the 80s than in the 60s but still not exactly accepted) he could not work through these ingrained issues without talking about overbearing Mother. And to speak her name might prove just as destructive to poor Norman's delicate but strong mental state.
