The Twelve Lives of Alfred Hitchcock by Edward White (an ebook reader txt) 📗

he would be playing tricks on us. His cameo in the movie was equally playful, but more explicit, about his advancing years: in that famous silhouette, he is seen remonstrating with someone behind a door marked “Registrar of Births and Deaths.”

These jokes aside, Hitchcock labored in the final stretch. The glee he took in murder was counterbalanced by a genuine terror of death. He had attempted to perfect living by approaching it as art and craft; dying had no stimulating form or soothing routine. He searched for a consolatory epilogue; the final page gave him nothing beyond “THE END.”

In Donald Spoto’s biography, he says Hitchcock, oscillating between terror and anger in his last days, told various people that he had cut his ties with the Church and would not receive absolution. Patrick McGilligan reports it differently, writing that Father Thomas Sullivan “insisted on coming to Bellagio Road once a week to say Mass for him and Alma,” making it sound as though Hitchcock’s final connection with Catholicism had more to do with his old-fashioned English manners, and his fear of confrontation with an authority figure, rather than a sincere desire for closer communion with God.

Mark Henninger, a young priest who accompanied Sullivan on many of his visits in Hitchcock’s last few weeks, suggests that it was in fact Hitchcock who requested their attendance. Henninger never knew the precise reasons why Hitchcock wanted the Church back in his life after so many years away from it, and he suspects it may not have been entirely clear to Hitchcock either. “But something whispered in his heart, and the visits answered a profound human desire, a real human need.”

Hitchcock in a graveyard with Bruce Dern during the filming of Family Plot.

On Henninger’s first visit with Sullivan, they found Hitchcock dressed in black pajamas, asleep in a living room chair. Fatigue, old age, and ill-health hadn’t eradicated his sense of humor. “Hitch,” Sullivan said as Hitchcock came to, “this is Mark Henninger, a young priest from Cleveland.” Looking up, a sleepy Hitchcock replied, “Cleveland? Disgraceful!” During Mass, it became apparent that the old ways of his religion hadn’t left him, either; he gave his responses in Latin, as he would have done as a boy, rather than in English as had been the practice since Vatican II. “But the most remarkable sight,” says Henninger, “was that after receiving communion, he silently cried, tears rolling down his huge cheeks.” Whether moved by the grace of God, fear of His judgment, fear of the unknown, or simply sadness at the nearness of death, Henninger couldn’t say.

When Hitchcock died, Alma struggled to comprehend the loss and spent the remaining two years of her life believing he was still with them. In one sense, she was right. The further we get from the twentieth century, the more importance to its story Hitchcock assumes. His variegated legacies, buttressed by his phenomenal talent and unconventional personality, make him a codex of his times, usually complex, often troubling, but always vital. Not long before he passed, he was asked by an interviewer for his plans for the future. More of the same, he said; years and years more Hitchcock. “I have lots of ideas . . . and something always comes up, some new story. . . . I warn you, I mean to go on forever!”

* Coincidentally, the male lead in Family Plot is also a disgruntled cab driver, George Lumley, played by Bruce Dern.

Acknowledgments

I owe special thanks to the Alfred J. Hitchcock Trust for kindly allowing me to reproduce excerpts from various sources. Numerous other estates have provided similar cooperation, and I am grateful to them all.

In conducting my research, I was helped by many people and institutions: Lisa Hilton and the extremely welcoming staff at the Margaret Herrick Library; Brendan Coates at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, Oral History Projects department; JC Johnson and his colleagues at the Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center, Boston University; the Charles E. Young Research Library, UCLA; Terre Heydari at the DeGloyer Library, Southern Methodist University; Gaila Sims at the Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas at Austin; Susan Krueger at the Wisconsin Historical Research Society; the Rare Books and Manuscripts Division, and the Billy Rose Theatre Division at the New York Public Library; the Beinecke Rare Books and Manuscript Library at Yale University; the Butler Library at Columbia University; the Bodleian Library at the University of Oxford; Victoria Bennett and colleagues at the British Film Institute; and all the staff at the magnificent British Library.

I am indebted to various Hitchcock scholars whose work has informed my own in many ways. These include—but are not limited to—Charles Barr, Jane Sloan, Sidney Gottlieb, John Russell Taylor, Donald Spoto, Dan Auiler, Tania Modleski, and Peter Conrad. Patrick McGilligan also belongs to this group, and I owe him extra thanks for kindly assisting me in my research, as did Sue Jones, Tabitha Machin, David Freeman, Barbara Leigh-Hunt, Peter Bogdanovich, Tim Kirby, William Devane, Mariette Hartley, Bernard Cribbins, Nick Wright, Cornelia Parker, Gus Van Sant, Donna Ranieri, Andrew Bainbridge, Sophie Sweet, and Chris Levy.

Thanks to Nancy Palmquist and everybody at W. W. Norton, but especially my editor John Glusman, and Helen Thomaides who has been a model of efficiency and forbearance in fielding my endless, annoying queries. The guidance and assistance of Melissa Flamson and Janet Woods at With Permission was invaluable, while Chris Parris-Lamb was, as always, a great source of advice and encouragement. Thanks also to Sarah Bolling and the rest of the Gernert Company.

The unfailing patience and support of my family was, and is, much needed and cherished.

Alfred Hitchcock Filmography

English-language feature films directed solely by Alfred Hitchcock. There is some debate about the dating of Hitchcock’s earliest films; the dates below give the year of the first UK screening for films up to 1939, and the first US screening of all subsequent films, following Hitchcock’s move to Hollywood.

The Pleasure