I don’t think I’d hit puberty, yet, when I first saw Hitchcock’s remake of his own “The Man Who Knew Too Much” on TV, but when I did, I was hooked on two things: Hitchcock movies and Morocco.
Okay, so, Jimmy Stewart and Doris Day take their young son on a holiday to Marrakech. After having dinner with two odd Brits, the next day they head into Jemaa el-Fnaa, the main square deep in the Medina. The camera follows them as the enormous marketplace is slowly revealed.
Meanwhile, a man is being chased through the narrow alleyways that all lead to the center point, the place where our family is strolling along. Soon, it becomes apparent to Jimmy, and to the audience, that this man is haltingly coming toward him, aiming himself like a staggering missile toward our hero.
The man collapses in Stewart’s arms, Jimmy’s hands running across the dying man’s face, uncovering make-up that reveals he was the same guy they’d met the prior evening. Jimmy sees the knife in the man’s back as he draws him closer and there, at that moment, the man whispers something into Jimmy’s ear.
What happens next is up to you to find out, but just know that among many other extraordinary scenes, Doris Day belts out the most wild-eyed, panicky rendition of “Que Sera Sera,” belying its cheerful lyrics.
And that’s why I’ve always wanted to go to Morocco. “Casablanca” and Paul Bowles’s “The Sheltering Sky” only hammered home my need, a need that is soon to be fulfilled.
