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More Than Norman Bates: The Musical Career of Anthony Perkins

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Inscribed on Anthony Perkins’ urn in the Hollywood Hills are the words: “Don’t Fence Me In.”

It’s a poignant choice for someone trapped by the blessing (and curse) of being Norman Bates. His performance in Psycho is ranked at #2 in AFI’s list of greatest villains of all time, behind Hannibal Lecter and ahead of Darth Vader. His celebrated work as a genre actor overshadowed his sophisticated comedic and dramatic roles, including George Cukor’s The Actress, The Matchmaker (alongside Shirley MacLaine), Tall Story (Jane Fonda’s first film) and Fear Strikes Out. He even declined Jack Lemmon’s role in Some Like it Hot and was considered for Lawrence of Arabia.

While the versatility of his filmography often goes underappreciated, there’s another side of his talents that flies even more under the radar: his career as a singer under “Tony Perkins.”

L: With Fred Astaire, his co-star in ‘On the Beach.’ R: Recording in 1957.

Perkins’ voice sparked attention in 1956, when he sang “A Little Love Can Go A Long Long Way” in a TV program, Joey, and “Thee I Love” for the film, Friendly Persuasion. Since Paramount was grooming Perkins’ image as a teen idol (one article knighted him as “The Last of the [James] Deans”), he signed a contract with Epic to record doo-wops like “The Prettiest Girl In School” and “When School Starts Again.” He released a jazz album, the self-titled Tony Perkins, and went on to release two more under RCA (From My Heart…, On A Rainy Afternoon). His biggest hit was “Moonlight Swim,” which reached #24 on the pop charts in 1957.

When record producer Ben Bagley summoned him to act as moral support for Montgomery Clift’s first time cutting vocals, he wound up collaborating with Perkins multiple times, the first being for George Gershwin Revisited with “Changing My Tune” (with Barbara Cook) and “Under A One-Man Top.” In the late 60’s and 70’s they recorded many songs under Bagley’s label, Painted Smiles. Perkins was also fluent in French, which resulted in multiple French-language singles. 

Despite a fruitful collection of songs, he harbored insecurities: “My voice is terrible.” In 1960, he confessed: 

“I made some records a few years ago of a very low soft singing that I was ultimately, if not immediately, dissatisfied with. I wanted to prove — to myself at any rate — that I could sing better than I sounded on those things you can pick up for $3.49 at the corner store.”

His untrained vocals don’t have the glossy controlled manner à la Sinatra and Martin, and perhaps his disappointment was connected to the inability to compete with the popular baritones of the time. Indeed, at times you hear him uncomfortable with the range, but a sincere tenderness came with the imperfections. In “C’est Choutte, Paris” you can’t help but hear him smiling, and his version of “How About You” is a delightful valley of ups and downs with lyrics like: “I’m mad about good books, can’t get my fill / Sophia Loren’s looks give me a thrill!” 

Occasionally his singing blended with acting. He sang the theme song to Audrey Hepburn in Green Mansions, a shortened rendition of “Cuddle Up a Little Closer” in Tall Story, and in Crimes of Passion, sang a manic-style “Get Happy.” He was cast in Broadway musicals such as Stephen Sondheim’s Evening Primrose and Frank Loesser’s Greenwillow. Both were hidden gems, with Primrose receiving a release on DVD in 2010, along with the Greenwillow soundtrack in 1995.

Perkins in ‘Greenwillow’

His sons Osgood “Oz” and Elvis Perkins continue the family name’s legacy through their respective endeavors. Film director Osgood dedicated his second horror film, I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House to his father, which included a clip from Friendly Persuasion (for which Anthony was nominated for an Oscar) and his track “You Keep Coming Back Like a Song.” In an interview with RogerEbert.com, Oz explained the movie’s intent: 

“I wanted to sort of give that film to my father as a continued exploration of our relationship. Just because someone isn’t alive anymore doesn’t mean your exploration of the relationship you have with that person doesn’t continue.”

The themes of grief and hope continue in the melodies of his younger brother, folk rock musician Elvis. The song  “123 Goodbye” begins with “1, 2, 3 goodbye / I loved you more in death than I ever could in life.” His 2007 album’s title, Ash Wednesday, refers to: 

“Being left on Wednesday with nothing but ash, because [my mother, Berry Berenson] died on a Tuesday – being left with ash on September 12. That was also the day my father died, September 12. It first occurred to me on Ash Wednesday itself – my consciousness was largely ruled by having lost my mother six months previously.”

As one absorbs the work of the Perkins brothers, it rings true to the old adage of crafting pain into poetry. Their art emerges as cathartic, haunting, and beautiful in its own right.

Today we honor the late Anthony Perkins’ 88th birthday by remembering his contributions to the horror community and his musical catalogue. If you don’t know where to begin, below is a curated playlist. 

In 1972 he called his discography “a second rate art.” What we can take from his harsh self-criticism is a bit of inspiration. He didn’t see himself as a talented vocalist, but he didn’t stop just because he thought he wasn’t good enough. Perkins was a true devotee to self-expression — despite his insecurities — and that is worth celebrating.

Photo Credits: Getty Images, Discogs, ABC

Editorials

What’s Wrong with My Baby!? Larry Cohen’s ‘It’s Alive’ at 50

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Netflix It's Alive

Soon after the New Hollywood generation took over the entertainment industry, they started having children. And more than any filmmakers that came before—they were terrified. Rosemary’s Baby (1968), The Exorcist (1973), The Omen (1976), Eraserhead (1977), The Brood (1979), The Shining (1980), Possession (1981), and many others all deal, at least in part, with the fears of becoming or being a parent. What if my child turns out to be a monster? is corrupted by some evil force? or turns out to be the fucking Antichrist? What if I screw them up somehow, or can’t help them, or even go insane and try to kill them? Horror has always been at its best when exploring relatable fears through extreme circumstances. A prime example of this is Larry Cohen’s 1974 monster-baby movie It’s Alive, which explores the not only the rollercoaster of emotions that any parent experiences when confronted with the difficulties of raising a child, but long-standing questions of who or what is at fault when something goes horribly wrong.

Cohen begins making his underlying points early in the film as Frank Davis (John P. Ryan) discusses the state of the world with a group of expectant fathers in a hospital waiting room. They discuss the “overabundance of lead” in foods and the environment, smog, and pesticides that only serve to produce roaches that are “bigger, stronger, and harder to kill.” Frank comments that this is “quite a world to bring a kid into.” This has long been a discussion point among people when trying to decide whether to have kids or not. I’ve had many conversations with friends who have said they feel it’s irresponsible to bring children into such a violent, broken, and dangerous world, and I certainly don’t begrudge them this. My wife and I did decide to have children but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy.

Immediately following this scene comes It’s Alive’s most famous sequence in which Frank’s wife Lenore (Sharon Farrell) is the only person left alive in her delivery room, the doctors clawed and bitten to death by her mutant baby, which has escaped. “What does my baby look like!? What’s wrong with my baby!?” she screams as nurses wheel her frantically into a recovery room. The evening that had begun with such joy and excitement at the birth of their second child turned into a nightmare. This is tough for me to write, but on some level, I can relate to this whiplash of emotion. When my second child was born, they came about five weeks early. I’ll use the pronouns “they/them” for privacy reasons when referring to my kids. Our oldest was still very young and went to stay with my parents and we sped off to the hospital where my wife was taken into an operating room for an emergency c-section. I was able to carry our newborn into the NICU (natal intensive care unit) where I was assured that this was routine for all premature births. The nurses assured me there was nothing to worry about and the baby looked big and healthy. I headed to where my wife was taken to recover to grab a few winks assuming that everything was fine. Well, when I awoke, I headed back over to the NICU to find that my child was not where I left them. The nurse found me and told me that the baby’s lungs were underdeveloped, and they had to put them in a special room connected to oxygen tubes and wires to monitor their vitals.

It’s difficult to express the fear that overwhelmed me in those moments. Everything turned out okay, but it took a while and I’m convinced to this day that their anxiety struggles spring from these first weeks of life. As our children grew, we learned that two of the three were on the spectrum and that anxiety, depression, ADHD, and OCD were also playing a part in their lives. Parents, at least speaking for myself, can’t help but blame themselves for the struggles their children face. The “if only” questions creep in and easily overcome the voices that assure us that it really has nothing to do with us. In the film, Lenore says, “maybe it’s all the pills I’ve been taking that brought this on.” Frank muses aloud about how he used to think that Frankenstein was the monster, but when he got older realized he was the one that made the monster. The aptly named Frank is wondering if his baby’s mutation is his fault, if he created the monster that is terrorizing Los Angeles. I have made plenty of “if only” statements about myself over the years. “If only I hadn’t had to work so much, if only I had been around more when they were little.” Mothers may ask themselves, “did I have a drink, too much coffee, or a cigarette before I knew I was pregnant? Was I too stressed out during the pregnancy?” In other words, most parents can’t help but wonder if it’s all their fault.

At one point in the film, Frank goes to the elementary school where his baby has been sighted and is escorted through the halls by police. He overhears someone comment about “screwed up genes,” which brings about age-old questions of nature vs. nurture. Despite the voices around him from doctors and detectives that say, “we know this isn’t your fault,” Frank can’t help but think it is, and that the people who try to tell him it isn’t really think it’s his fault too. There is no doubt that there is a hereditary element to the kinds of mental illness struggles that my children and I deal with. But, and it’s a bit but, good parenting goes a long way in helping children deal with these struggles. Kids need to know they’re not alone, a good parent can provide that, perhaps especially parents that can relate to the same kinds of struggles. The question of nature vs. nurture will likely never be entirely answered but I think there’s more than a good chance that “both/and” is the case. Around the midpoint of the film, Frank agrees to disown the child and sign it over for medical experimentation if caught or killed. Lenore and the older son Chris (Daniel Holzman) seek to nurture and teach the baby, feeling that it is not a monster, but a member of the family.

It’s Alive takes these ideas to an even greater degree in the fact that the Davis Baby really is a monster, a mutant with claws and fangs that murders and eats people. The late ’60s and early ’70s also saw the rise in mass murderers and serial killers which heightened the nature vs. nurture debate. Obviously, these people were not literal monsters but human beings that came from human parents, but something had gone horribly wrong. Often the upbringing of these killers clearly led in part to their antisocial behavior, but this isn’t always the case. It’s Alive asks “what if a ‘monster’ comes from a good home?” In this case is it society, environmental factors, or is it the lead, smog, and pesticides? It is almost impossible to know, but the ending of the film underscores an uncomfortable truth—even monsters have parents.

As the film enters its third act, Frank joins the hunt for his child through the Los Angeles sewers and into the L.A. River. He is armed with a rifle and ready to kill on sight, having divorced himself from any relationship to the child. Then Frank finds his baby crying in the sewers and his fatherly instincts take over. With tears in his eyes, he speaks words of comfort and wraps his son in his coat. He holds him close, pats and rocks him, and whispers that everything is going to be okay. People often wonder how the parents of those who perform heinous acts can sit in court, shed tears, and defend them. I think it’s a complex issue. I’m sure that these parents know that their child has done something evil, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are still their baby. Your child is a piece of yourself formed into a whole new human being. Disowning them would be like cutting off a limb, no matter what they may have done. It doesn’t erase an evil act, far from it, but I can understand the pain of a parent in that situation. I think It’s Alive does an exceptional job placing its audience in that situation.

Despite the serious issues and ideas being examined in the film, It’s Alive is far from a dour affair. At heart, it is still a monster movie and filled with a sense of fun and a great deal of pitch-black humor. In one of its more memorable moments, a milkman is sucked into the rear compartment of his truck as red blood mingles with the white milk from smashed bottles leaking out the back of the truck and streaming down the street. Just after Frank agrees to join the hunt for his baby, the film cuts to the back of an ice cream truck with the words “STOP CHILDREN” emblazoned on it. It’s a movie filled with great kills, a mutant baby—created by make-up effects master Rick Baker early in his career, and plenty of action—and all in a PG rated movie! I’m telling you, the ’70s were wild. It just also happens to have some thoughtful ideas behind it as well.

Which was Larry Cohen’s specialty. Cohen made all kinds of movies, but his most enduring have been his horror films and all of them tackle the social issues and fears of the time they were made. God Told Me To (1976), Q: The Winged Serpent (1982), and The Stuff (1985) are all great examples of his socially aware, low-budget, exploitation filmmaking with a brain and It’s Alive certainly fits right in with that group. Cohen would go on to write and direct two sequels, It Lives Again (aka It’s Alive 2) in 1978 and It’s Alive III: Island of the Alive in 1987 and is credited as a co-writer on the 2008 remake. All these films explore the ideas of parental responsibility in light of the various concerns of the times they were made including abortion rights and AIDS.

Fifty years after It’s Alive was initially released, it has only become more relevant in the ensuing years. Fears surrounding parenthood have been with us since the beginning of time but as the years pass the reasons for these fears only seem to become more and more profound. In today’s world the conversation of the fathers in the waiting room could be expanded to hormones and genetic modifications in food, terrorism, climate change, school and other mass shootings, and other threats that were unknown or at least less of a concern fifty years ago. Perhaps the fearmongering conspiracy theories about chemtrails and vaccines would be mentioned as well, though in a more satirical fashion, as fears some expectant parents encounter while endlessly doomscrolling Facebook or Twitter. Speaking for myself, despite the struggles, the fears, and the sadness that sometimes comes with having children, it’s been worth it. The joys ultimately outweigh all of that, but I understand the terror too. Becoming a parent is no easy choice, nor should it be. But as I look back, I can say that I’m glad we made the choice we did.

I wonder if Frank and Lenore can say the same thing.

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