He was born on August 13, 1899, in Leytonstone, England, northeast of London, an elite rural paradise turned working-class enclave, to William and Emma Jane (nee Whelan) Hitchcock. Theirs was a large, extended, and close-knit Catholic family.
His father, who was quite strict, was a greengrocer; his mother, a second-generation Irish Catholic policeman’s daughter with a keen literary wit, devout faith, and practical mind. While William wet his whistle, his wife crunched the numbers. Meanwhile, his brother John, youngest of six, opened up a chain of grocery stores, at its peak, in 1925, numbering 69, helping ease William’s way.
Emma made sure Alfred, the youngest of three, was well-formed in the faith, requiring “evening confession” at day’s end in preparation for weekly confession and Mass on Sundays at a Stratford parish where his father’s nephew, Fr. John, ministered.
“After Sunday Mass,” as recounted in Oasis: Conversion Stories of Hollywood Legends, “William Hitchcock would treat his children to picnics in Epping Forest and often took them to shows at the nearby Borough Theater, which infused Hitch early on with a love of the theatre. Home was often theatre enough. At frequent gatherings various family members, including some real-life characters, shared the latest gossip or grisly murder, revealing human nature at its most complex — Jack the Ripper having done his killing in nearby Whitechapel. At these get-togethers, Hitchcock’s more reflective style came through. As he said years later, ‘I would sit quietly in a corner, saying nothing. I looked and observed a good deal. I’ve always been that way.’”
When Hitch was six, the family moved down the Lea River to Salmon Lane where his father managed two fish stores owned by John Hitchcock Ltd. Thus were Hitch’s formative years lived around warehouses, wharves and the odiferous, mud-filled Thames. The same ambiance as that featured in Marnie (1964), filmed on the heels of the trio of films, North by Northwest (1959), Psycho (1960) and The Birds (1963), that cemented his reputation as the “Master of Suspense.”
The Jesuit formation and training he received at St. Ignatius College, where he matriculated in the fall of 1910, gave him what he called “Jesuit reasoning power,” “a strong sense of fear,” and grounding in reality — the foundation of his disciplined art. In addition to sports, academics, arts, and literature, St. Ignatius’ rigorous spiritual program included Mass at 8:45 a.m., daily catechism lessons, optional Friday confession, plus a mandatory annual three-day retreat.
The school also instilled in him a sense of drama. As Fr. Mark Henninger told this author, St. Ignatius “had a Master of Discipline, so if any of the boys misbehaved during the day … the Master of Discipline” would deal with him — at day’s end, leaving you in suspense all day, “wondering what he’s going to do to you.” Thus was born the “Master of Suspense.”
With the death of his father in 1914, Hitch got a job at W.T. Henley Telegraph Company, where, sporting a trimmer figure, he was well-liked. He also enlisted with the Royal Engineers Volunteers Corps, but lacked the deft moves needed to endure, and so returned to Henley where his paperwork mounted until, suddenly motivated, he ripped through it. Sales and advertising were a more natural fit. Even better, filmmaking. After vigorous lobbying, he joined British-Famous Players Lasky’s new London studio as art title manager. As the company’s profits dwindled, the studio soon shuttered — but not before he met Alma Reville who would become his lifelong creative partner and wife. They wed on December 26, 1926.
She became a Catholic to marry him but her conversion did not stick, he wrote, and, so he, too, drifted spiritually, especially as he gained success, starting with his first film, The Lodger of the London Fog (1927), premised on the pursuit of a Jack-the-Ripper serial-type killer, complete with his oft-reprised “wrong man” theme.
While his faith grew cold, his Catholic heart remained warm as he continued to give generously to the Church and make sure his grandchildren attended Mass when visiting their grandparents, which could be a harrowing experience with Hitch at the wheel.
In the end, 54 films under his belt, as his body weakened, his soul awakened. When Ingrid Bergman said, in response to his expression of fear at his impending death, “Of course. We’re all going to die,” he gained great peace. And, before long he was dialing up Fr. Sullivan, who he knew from The Paradine Case. Fr. Sullivan brought along Fr. Henninger. So it was that, just as he was coming to appreciate his wife, said Fr. Henniger, he was now coming to appreciate his Catholic faith, to which he returned before his death on April 29, 1980.
Based on, and, in part, excerpted from, Alfred Hitchcock chapter in Oasis: Conversion Stories of Hollywood Legends.
