Titans of music abound in this post. From the preternatural pipes of Mr. Yoakam, to the not-in-need-of-rocking-chairs legend George Jones, to guitar legend Junior Brown, to the inimitable Hoyt Axton, to the Lanois-ing Willie Nelson…then the hugely underappreciated Dick Curless, the mighty Johnny Paycheck, the irresistible Lucinda Williams, to Dan Auerbach and his mesmerizing ways, Buck Owens in his prime with Don Rich, the great Merle Haggard, the Silver Fox…B.J. Thomas…and we conclude with Dwight once more, with Eddy Shaver. Damn Right. And Townes Van Zandt.
“Car Lot“, from Psycho soundtrack. Composed by Bernard Herrmann.
The plot of Psycho, directed by Alfred Hitchcock, pivots on the fulcrum of a red herring. Janet Leigh’s character fears that she is in imminent legal danger, and suffers from a troubled conscience, when in fact something far, far worse, something having absolutely nothing even remotely to do with events up to that point, awaits her.
When he dines initially with Leigh, the reaction/mood of Norman Bates {portrayed iconically by Anthony Perkins} changes rather drastically, from chipper, to utterly incredulous, to overtly hostile, to a resigned world-weariness, to a last attempt at joviality. He appears to be friendly and caring, if a bit troubled and mercurial.
When the dogged, unswerving Milton Arbogast {Martin Balsam} calmly dissembles the slowly dissolving structural integrity of Norman’s version of events, he opts to trot out the heavy artillery, proclaiming “If it doesn’t gel, it isn’t aspic; and this ain’t gelling.” Stunned silence proceeds to take over the entire universe, and Norman Bates is clearly rattled. The two shall meet again, soon enough.
The notorious and ultra-elusive serial killer dubbed {much to the displeasure of Grissom} “The Strip Strangler” is eventually tracked down by the CSI Mæstro, despite the “help” of the FBI. In this powerful scene, Gil confronts one Syd Booth Goggle (once considered a minor irritant, at best…), who turns out to be the deadly predator. A risky venture: no backup, and close quarters.
Actor Matt O’Toole gives a remarkable, bravura, iconic performance as serial killer Paul Millander, invoking dread, menace, yet some sympathy (of a sort…) as well. Highly intelligent, and courteous, with a traumatic youth-hood, to put it mildly, Millander nonetheless is that most threatening of characters; always he seems to have the advantage.














































































































