It's my deep, dark secret (one I'm happy to admit to anybody) that I don't hate Gus Van Sant's Psycho. Sure, I'd watch the Hitchcock original 100 more times before wanting to revisit Vince Vaughn's take on Norman Bates, yet the much reviled shot-for-shot remake still interests me as a bizarre art project.
It's a worthwhile comparative text on small performance variations and how the most precise piece of mimicry does or doesn't yield the same impact as the original.
FX's miniseries adaptation Black Narcissus isn't quite as slavish a reproduction of the classic film from Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, but it also isn't different enough to feel like a decisively distinct adaptation of Rumer Godden's novel.
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