I am a big mystery fan, especially old school stuff. I can read Hammett and Christie and everything in between over and over again. The same applies for movies. The older stuff, grainy black and white, suspenseful music…ahhhh, that’s just classic.
A few weeks ago, one of the networks had an Alfred Hitchcock marathon. Y’all can imagine how jazzed I was! Four classics back to back, and no, Marnie wasn’t one of them, thank goodness. Psycho, Rear Window, The Trouble With Harry, and Rope. I got my tissues*, my cup of coffee, and my cozy throw, and sat next to Little One, who was home sick with a tummy bug. I had asked her if I could watch them and she was gracious enough to let me.
This is where y’all roll your eyes, just like I did.
First up is Psycho, and I’m enjoying it immensely, when I notice that Little One has turned over to face the TV and watch the film. I warned her that it was suspenseful, and a bit scary, but she told me she could handle it. And boy, did she handle it. At the end of the film she was raving about how awesome it was, and how we should get the DVD for it (I have it, but didn’t want her to go get it and demand to watch it again, since she missed the first fifteen minutes or so). Anyway, we end up watching all four movies and she asks me if Hitchcock made any others as suspenseful as those. “Many”, I said. “Do you have more?” she asked. “But of course, but I don’t think you are ready for some of them.” “Like which ones?” she wondered. And my soul froze, thinking of the one Hitchcock film that still manages to freak me out and leave me sleepless for days!!
I told her about Rebecca, and North by Northwest, but I kept The Birds to myself. I know my kid, and the moment she finds out birds start attacking humans in a sleepy little town, she is going to want to watch it, in the dark, all agog at Tippy Hedren in her beautiful green suit getting ravaged by crows. And then she’s going to want to sleep in my bed, where I will lay in the dark, waiting to hear the flap of wings on my roof.
No, thank you. I like being mistress of my domain.
*I always cry when Martin Balsam is killed off.