Lyn Lifshin
It Was the Blondes: Albert and Tiger
a magnet to Hitchcock as the Barbie look, blonde
or otherwise, is to Tiger Woods. Even if Hitch
called actors cattle, he couldn’t help wanting
the blondes. And so often, as with Tiger, it
ended in humiliation and grief. Talented men
with who knows what problems deep inside,
sure their reputation would make women fall
but probably terrified at the same time. Dark
geniuses who wanted privacy when they wanted
it, hated the press. Promotion was one thing but
being personal was something else. Imagine Woods
and Hitchcock meeting. Alfred would have been
stunned by Elin’s looks, speechless at her blonde,
blonde beauty, so astonished at her brightness
he’d probably want to re-make Rear Window.
As for Tiger, if Tippi Hedren was around he’d
probably make a stab. He doesn’t seem terribly
picky or discriminating. Alfred might be surprised
if they met today how we know a lot more about
celebrities than maybe one ought to. He’d probably
turn his back, like in some of his films and Tiger
would be right there behind him, not facing the
cameras. Maybe they’ve exchanged thoughts about
taking the best shots, getting into what film and
golf have in common. Neither seem like happy men.
Shrouded in mystery, both dark portraits. Tiger
might as well have said as one of Hitchcock’s stars
said he did, “make yourself sexually available.”
Neither were above blue comments, strangeness.
Still most of their ladies seemed to like them,
enough for many they were geniuses at what they
did, dedicated, as obsessed with work as with all
their mostly blonde women. But they did have time
to take a break together. Alfred looked like he
needed a little sun and Tiger thought maybe he’d get
the inside track on how to direct blondes better.
They headed for the green. An odd couple. They
seemed fond of each other. Both best in the theater
of air, each with their own shock and awe. Both stars
and they know it. No matter, when Alfred starts to
tell Tiger about The Birds, the golfer, not into
films, though he’s thought maybe later when he can’t
still play as well, he might try out for a part
opposite any of Hitchcock’s leading ladies,
thinks he is talking about girls. He doesn’t know
yet there could be something to fear from them.
And when Tiger mentions birdies, Hitchcock is
flattered, happy. For the moment it’s two men
on the green with nobody bothering them,
dreaming of the perfect stroke, the hole
