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A review by joshrskinner
Alfred Hitchcock by Peter Ackroyd
4.0
Alfred Hitchcock created brilliant works of art that revolutionized the filmmaking industry. Hitchcock’s ability to tell a story through what he said and showed, and more so through what he left unsaid and unshowed, has made him a perennial favorite for many, myself included.
Peter Ackroyd has shown himself to be a preeminent biography with his works on Chaplin, Shakespeare, London, Dickens, and more. His short biography of Hitchcock is no different. Ackroyd leads the reader through the story of a life filled with quirk, sorrow, and success. From a child who “never cried” to a young man introduced to his beloved Alma to the young director practical-joking his way out of a less-than-enticing studio contract and many the actress almost out of her mind to the man who produced masterpieces like Vertigo, North by Northwest, The Birds, Psycho, and Rear Window to a man in his final days, Ackroyd aptly navigates the life and, to a lesser degree, the mind of this flawed-genius. Hitchcock was far from Midas, but he certainly produced a fair amount of gold. Ackroyd examines the great films and the not-so-great, and it is fun to look at them all.
My one main criticism of Ackroyd’s biography of Hitchcock is the abruptness with which we leave the story. Hitchcock is dying and then he is dead and then later Alma dies. It was not exactly as thrown-on-the-brakes as my summary, but it was not far from it. I would have preferred to linger in that moment a bit more—a fade to black instead of a jump cut to the credits, if you will—and I would have liked to have a bit more interaction with Alma post-Alfred. Small quibbles over an otherwise good biography.
**ARC from the publisher for review purposes
Peter Ackroyd has shown himself to be a preeminent biography with his works on Chaplin, Shakespeare, London, Dickens, and more. His short biography of Hitchcock is no different. Ackroyd leads the reader through the story of a life filled with quirk, sorrow, and success. From a child who “never cried” to a young man introduced to his beloved Alma to the young director practical-joking his way out of a less-than-enticing studio contract and many the actress almost out of her mind to the man who produced masterpieces like Vertigo, North by Northwest, The Birds, Psycho, and Rear Window to a man in his final days, Ackroyd aptly navigates the life and, to a lesser degree, the mind of this flawed-genius. Hitchcock was far from Midas, but he certainly produced a fair amount of gold. Ackroyd examines the great films and the not-so-great, and it is fun to look at them all.
My one main criticism of Ackroyd’s biography of Hitchcock is the abruptness with which we leave the story. Hitchcock is dying and then he is dead and then later Alma dies. It was not exactly as thrown-on-the-brakes as my summary, but it was not far from it. I would have preferred to linger in that moment a bit more—a fade to black instead of a jump cut to the credits, if you will—and I would have liked to have a bit more interaction with Alma post-Alfred. Small quibbles over an otherwise good biography.
**ARC from the publisher for review purposes