1956 Lausanne, Switzerland

Nick Minden
Born in 1944
Lausanne, Switzerland
Interviewed on September 22, 2019
By Omar Zakaria

The first movie I remember seeing was in black and white. My grandfather used to drive me, my mother, and my sister to the theater. We almost certainly lived in France at the time, but it could have just as likely been Switzerland. Cinema was not intellectual enough for my grandfather or he had no time. In either case, I cannot remember actually seeing a film with him once. My father wouldn’t even drive us. I was 19 when I first saw a film with him. But the first I actually remember, had some color to it. It was definitely in Paris or Lausanne. I must have been nearly a full twelve years old. It had that song “Que Sera, Sera!” Oh, yes—It had a lady who looked like my mother. Grace Kelly! No—Doris Day, that was her name. “Whatever will be will be, the future’s not ours to see.” That song was a total hit. Ah, of course, the movie was The Man Who Knew Too Much, and we saw it in Lausanne when it came out, probably around ‘56.

The theater was agreeably velvety and stank of spoiled cigarettes. The latter was the result of the moviegoers’ repeated drumming of the ash into the thick carpet. The cinema was indeed a bit of an outing, so most wore their Sunday best or at least dressed smarter than usual. We never had candy. My mother didn’t allow it—cavities and such. On second thought, however, we did always have popcorn and soda, which is arguably worse for the teeth. I recall often sitting behind the hulking shoulders of large men, which I only remember as an impediment to my view. As a child, I could not see the screen when behind them, so I used to sit with my feet under my bottom like they do in Japan. I can’t recall if it was after this film, but I was once so enchanted by a movie, I forgot to adjust and allow my blood to flow wherever it pleased. When I attempted to rise, I collapsed into the aisle and damned my unwaking limbs. At the time, I probably just said, “Whoops.” By God, that was embarrassing.

That actress in The Man Who Knew Too Much, Doris Day not Grace Kelly, had a radiance to her; though Grace Kelly was also beautiful. Neither compared to my mother. I knew from the moment I saw her she was a more mundane mother. Although I was quite young, I recall considering the actress sexually. I felt something stir inside me, although I still had not discovered the variable uses of my penis. This happened to me again when I saw some Indian women in saris. But none were as beautiful as my mother. She looked like that in the morning and on New Year’s Eve. It was clear to my younger self that film stars were trying to be like mother.

That Ms. Day she had a way of caressing the words as she sung. It was not exaggerated. The male lead—Jack, John, no Jimmy, yes James—was James Stewart. He was more over the top, a bit of a ham. Just like that boy who used to be handsome, blonde chap, Brat Pitt, who I can barely stomach, but, at least, he’s not that other one, the short one.

The acting in general never represented actual emotions, but that was of the time. A surprised girl would never seem like an actual girl who had been surprised, but rather like an actual one who had been terrified. A girl who wanted to look terrified ended up acting like an actual one charging with the Light Brigade. This was especially prevalent in the American Films; the ones they were making in England tended to be more to my taste. Although I can’t remember much of the plot of this particular one, I would name this era of movies as the start of the American cliché.

In the Hollywood pictures, the action gripped everyone with ease. Now, I can see that everyone, myself included, was fascinated more by the fairyland that was Americana than the film itself. In another from Hitchcock, Psycho, there was that stabbing scene. He really dove into the natural facial and corporeal expression of humans while dressing them up and trumpeting Americana. It was truly enjoyable.

That’s just what it was. Enjoyable. Every month or so, when grandfather pulled up in his car, we sprinted up. My sister and I knew we would have fun at the movies regardless of the film itself. Sometimes we fell asleep, but, when we drove back home, we would only ask to come again as soon as possible and if we could please get a little bit of candy next time.