★★★★☆

THE title of this obsessively detailed but still wholly accessibly and fascinating documentary refers to the 78 camera set-ups and 52 editing cuts that constitute that most famous of cinematic sequences: the iconic shower scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s 1960 classic Psycho.

It’s presented in the same kind of handsome black-and-white as the original Psycho itself, both in its moments of theatrical re-enactment and in the various interviews with everyone from those directly connected like Janet Leigh body-double Marli Renfro and Leigh’s daughter Jamie Lee Curtis to Hitchcock admirers like Guillermo del Toro and Elijah Wood.

As a whole it’s a compelling examination of just what exactly makes the sequence so special, how much of an impact it had on cinema and how it has buried its way into the cultural consciousness; the shock of a scene that only a third of the way through the film kills off the main character, the skilful way it makes you think you’ve seen something more graphic than it actually is, Bernard Hermann’s classic score stabbing its way into your memory forever more.

It’s also a captivating look at the mad genius behind the curtain, trying to pin down his motivation for wanting to follow-up the technicolour, audience-pleasing mystery that was 1959’s North by Northwest with something so macabre. In his own words Hitchcock says that the film was made as a bit of a gleeful joke and he was horrified to see it being taken so seriously.

With only archival footage of the Master of Suspense himself, we turn to enthusiasts of his work to dissect the shower scene in particular. They’re well chosen for the film, adding insightful value as they discuss, illuminate and are enthralled all over again as they watch the scene as a shared academic exercise.

Del Toro speaks to the director’s treatment of human behaviour by describing how “Hitchcock viewed the world as a kind of imperfect moral machine”. Director Karyn Kusama probes that the shower scene “was the first modern expression of the female body under assault”. If there’s any major criticism of the doc is that it needed a few more female perspectives to counterpoint the male gaze.

Nevertheless it’s a must-see documentary for Hitchcock enthusiasts and those with a passing interest in the cuts that go into creating such a celebrated sequence. Made with palpable reverence for the subject by its director Alexandre O Philippe, it transcends feeling like a mere glorified DVD extra by being detailed and expansive enough to put the scene in cinematic and cultural context.