Bonding over Hitchcock at The Alex Theater

This weekend I took my daughter to see another "mother," the mother of all slasher movies, that is, which in our case happened to be a screening of Hitchock's classic film, Psycho.

Now, normally, this is not something I suggest every mother and daughter do. However, in our case it worked. And it made for the perfect day together.

How could I pass up a chance to share Psycho at The Alex Theater in Glendale, which is an experience in itself? Now, I can honestly state what I suspected all along, that Psycho makes for some great mother-teen-girl bonding.


Trailer for Psycho




Maybe what worked was just exploring all those archetypes, symbols and images together. Spending time talking about what we observed. Sharing details about what we noticed and thought was funny or truly creepy.

I loved having another chance to talk about the roles women played in our society over the years. Or how men view(ed?) women.

My God, there were so many references that women are evil, or corrupt and bad. It's a very screwed up way to see women, let alone the damage "mothers" can do. But, I couldn't tell if Hitchcock really thought that, or was mocking those that do.

However, this weekend I was up for the challenge of taking my own kid to see maybe one of the worst depictions of evil mommies on film. I mean, clearly, I came off looking pretty good compared to the mean corpse of Norman's mother.

Maybe it was just sharing a gem of film history together? I cannot recommend taking the time to celebrate sharing what you really love with your kids, no matter what.

In my case, it's sharing black-and-white film together, and Hitchcock, too. Mental note #42. Find more great old films to share with my kids when they are ready to really appreciate them.

I have to admit, though, I had some guilty misgivings for choosing this film to bond over. Perhaps I could have picked something more wholesome.

But, our mutual love of drama, theatricality, camp, excitement, gothic weirdness, and, good old-fashioned story telling and entertainment.

Where do you go to share all this with your kid? To an Alfred Hitchcock, film, of course.

And, then, how could I pass up a chance not to show her beautiful and lovely the architecture of The Alex Theater in Glendale? Yep. We had a great time.

And the company afterwards on the oh-so-happening Brand Boulevard was equally wonderful, but for other reasons. (How about that Portos Bakery? I didn't want to eat those pastries, I wanted to wear them!)

In any case, on the way back home, I asked her what her favorite parts of the movie were, and she kept talking about the last scene in the film.

J. (age 13) "Mom, I loved the last scene when he said "She wouldn't hurt a fly!" (Copious giggles at this.) He was SO creepy -- AND funny!



More mental notes: Find a DVD about the making of the film.

And I also can't wait to get share with her my other Hitchcock "love connection" the work of the writer, Daphne du Maurier who Hitchcock also loved -- Both of his films, Birds and Rebecca were from du Maurier novels. (She also wrote the short story Don't Look Now which was an equally creepy, Nicolas Roeg, 70's film.)





Even before I became a Hitchcock fan, I always adoredthe late author Daphne Du Maurier.



Literary digression:
Growing up I voraciously read everything she wrote. When we traveled to the United Kingdom I insisted going to Cornwall, just to take in the terrain where Du Maurier set so many of her wonderful, gothic, romantic, elegantly twisted stories. I guess, for better or worse, I've always had a love of beauty that contains the counter part, which is so unbeautiful. The yin and the yang. The thing that makes you do a double-take. Romance, that really isn't at all about romance, but something far more sinister. Well, that's 100 percent me...and I guess, to some degree, just by virtue of living with me, this is also my daughter, as well.

I know it doesn't make much sense. but, come on, there are worse things than sharing a love for old books and movies with a kid, isn't there?