Monthly arts and media column
When I was about 12, my mother took us to see Snow White at the cinema and my younger sister, aged seven, was so scared by the evil stepmother that we had to leave.
Eleanor Margesson
I’ve not forgotten it. I didn’t blame my mother for taking us — it was my sister who shouldn’t have been so sensitive. The tables were turned at our half-term-trip-to-the-flicks the other week. When we returned to daylight, this time it was the mother and father who were a bit overwhelmed by the scary baddie.
