Janet Leigh

In the parlour conversation in Psycho (1960), Janet Leigh makes listening look like something that requires care. As Marion Crane, she registers the strain in Anthony Perkins's Norman Bates without making her attention seem unkind. Her vulnerability brings us close, but never settles what we should make of her. Alfred Hitchcock leaves room for sympathy and suspicion, and Leigh is persuasive enough to sustain both. She makes our interest in Marion feel slightly intrusive, even when we think we are being sympathetic.

The early ingénue parts explain only a portion of her work. The Naked Spur (1953), in which she plays Lina Patch, already offered an earthier role than that label suggests. The move towards more dramatic parts became clearer in the late 1950s, with Susan Vargas in Orson Welles's Touch of Evil (1958). Psycho followed, then the enigmatic supporting role of Eugenie Rose Chaney in The Manchurian Candidate (1962).

With Perkins, her responsiveness is especially valuable: his strained politeness has someone alert enough to notice it. We felt uneasy during their conversation because his need for it to go well meets her watchfulness, and neither performance lets the exchange become comfortable. Leigh does not compete with his awkwardness or supply a reassuring response on our behalf. The scene gives us time to examine Marion even while we are concerned for her, a difficult balance that Leigh never makes look calculated. When Psycho labours its mystery elsewhere, this ordinary conversation is a reminder of how little its actors need to hold our attention.

Her later work was more occasional, including a cameo in Halloween H20: 20 Years Later (1998), while Marion continued to define her reputation. That can make it tempting to describe Leigh solely in terms of horror, overlooking the dramatic work that preceded it. We would start with Hitchcock, who gives her unease time to register and never insists that we resolve our doubts about her. For a second evening, we would choose Touch of Evil.