When writer and producer Ryan Murphy was eight, his parents left him to babysit his little brother. (This was the 1970s; these things happened.) Proudly in charge of the family television and TV guide, Murphy chose a movie to watch.
That movie was Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. No eight-year-old, alone at night, should watch that shower scene.
“I went berserk1,” Murphy, fifty-nine, recalls2. “I screamed and cried, and I had to call my grandmother to come and help me.” A few days later, he went to the library. An encyclopedia confirmed that while Psycho, based on a novel by Robert Bloch, was a work of fiction, it had a basis in fact: the gruesome3 crimes of a Wisconsin man named Ed Gein.
Some of us repress our primal wounds4. Others, like…
