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-------------------Gus Van Sant's retelling of a Hitchcock classic may ----------not be anything new, but it's still just as shocking. BY MARY ELIZABETH WILLIAMS | The most surprising thing about the new "Psycho" is the fact that it took nearly 40 years for somebody to think of doing it. Alfred Hitchcock's 1960 low-budget slasher flick was a masterpiece of sex, violence, madness and heavy-duty shrinkspeak, one that ushered in a bold new era of cinematic horror. In the intervening years, the movies have not exactly wanted for colorful wackos with great big kitchen utensils. But there's never been another story like "Psycho." And there's never been a psycho like Norman Bates. Before Norman, the evil something that jumped out of the dark to get you was very likely to be a thing -- a creature from the black lagoon, an alien invader or maybe a giant radioactive ant. And if you were going to be done in by a real person, he or she probably had a very good reason for wanting you dead -- because you were a bad daughter, because your wife wanted your insurance money, because you were a nosy neighbor. After Norman, moviegoers had to face the fact that, just like in real life, horrible things happen to innocent people. The difference between Norman and his plethora of motiveless successors, however, was that despite the number of bodies festering in his swamp, Norman was also still every inch the boy next door. That a maniac may hack you to death when you're naked and alone in the middle of the night is no longer a new idea for moviegoers to swallow. That he might first, with great gentleness and utter sincerity, invite you in for a glass of milk is still absolutely terrifying. Gus Van Sant's stylish, shot-by-shot remake of what the film's trailers refer to as "the classic story of a boy and his mother" is in and of itself a brave experiment. Filmmakers have been borrowing heavily from the master of suspense for decades, but few have had the guts to actually go back and remake his movies. Hitchcock, after all, pretty much nailed it the first time. This may be why Van Sant has hardly altered the original -- it might require some updating here and there, but its spooky beauty is untouchable. Except for the characters' snazzy wardrobes and Julianne Moore's Walkman, this "Psycho" looks and sounds nearly identical to the original, from the sideways sliding opening credits to Bernard Herrmann's screaming violin score (lovingly tweaked by Danny Elfmann). While the occasional references to stomach acid or tranquilizers are a little jarring, it's a tribute to Joseph Stefano's script and the lushness of Hitchcock's original direction that "Psycho" can still look so relatively fresh. Van Sant clearly knows that if it ain't broke, don't fix it, and his own smooth touch is neatly sympathetic with his predecessor's. There's probably no other director around who melds so well with Hitchcock's dreamy sense of menace, who slips wry humor so deftly into the midst of mayhem. Only a director who had River Phoenix repeatedly pass out in the middle of nowhere in "My Own Private Idaho" could present Marion Crane (Anne Heche) curled up in her car like a little kitten by the side of the road. Only Van Sant, who showed the workings of Nicole Kidman's bored mind as she tuned out her husband's logic in "To Die For," could ever hope to get inside Norman Bates' head. N E X T_P A G E _| A more sexually aware Norman