Yes, the blood swirling down the drain is
disgusting in color, as Hitchcock said it would be, though today's moviegoers won't flinch. Let's forgo the rant about creative bankruptcy and cinematic grave-robbing, however ghoulishly
appropriate it may be. Gus Van Sant's "re-creation" -- his term, and he insists -- of the granddaddy of serial-killer shockers has a sharp young cast and glorious Deluxe color to recommend it. But its structure and dialogue are clearly of 1960, and what scared audiences then will almost certainly
strike kids raised on the unholy trinity of Michael, Jason and Freddy as quaint and slow. In deference to the innocent few who don't know t...