I Rewatched 'Matilda' with My 6-Year-Old—And She Did Not React the Way I Expected

It was my favorite book growing up, and I couldn’t wait to share it with my daughter. So, when I saw the silver screen adaptation of Roald Dahl’s Matildawas on Netflix (the 1996 version, in all its Mara Wilson and Danny DeVito glory), I couldn’t wait to press play.

We were hardly 8 minutes in when my daughter cocked her head, eyeing me like I was suddenly a stranger. Her little brows furrowed. Her nose crinkled, a mix of confusion bordering on disgust, tinted with a twinge of horror.

“This…was your favorite story?” she asked slowly.

Before I could explain, a curiosity dam burst, and I was flooded with questions:

“Why are the parents so mean?”

“Why would they leave the baby on the table like that? She could fall and get hurt!”

“How do the parents not even know how old she is?!”

But it was a bit later, when a new series of questions emerged, that made me look at myself in a whole new light: “Why is Matilda so obsessed with revenge? Doesn’t that make her a bad guy too? Isn’t there another way?”

Oof. When I read the book—or any time I’d watched the movie—I’d cheered on Matilda the whole way through. I loved this story of a plucky 6-and-a-half-year-old who pranked her parents and (spoiler!) developed telekinetic powers to thwart her bullies, in order to break free of her parents’ abuse and neglect and ultimately create a better life for herself. It was a classic, pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps story—and, in my formative years, a refreshing alternative to the damsel-in-distress princess tales I’d read.

And yet, when my Gen Alpha kid watched it, she saw a girl who couldn’t escape the pattern of cruelty she’d been raised with, adopting an “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” view, rather than take the high road.

We didn’t finish the movie; admittedly, I realized that six may be a bit young for the intense themes and imagery. (While the movie features a first grader, most experts recommend it for ages eight and up.)

Why is Matilda so obsessed with revenge?

Instead, it opened up a conversation—one about unfairness in the world, speaking up for yourself and others, and the ways Matilda may have found her happy ending without having to, say, glue her father’s hat to his head or convince her principal, Miss Trunchbull, that she’s being haunted by a vengeful father. I was reminded of how easy it is, when you’re young, to see the world in black and white, good and bad, and how, as you age, you start to see all the shades of gray in between.

While the full movie and book don’t feel right for her right now, I want to revisit it in a year or two. Because, as an elementary schooler, that’s what I loved about Matilda—it didn’t shy away from the dark stuff. It acknowledged that abuse and meanness existed in the world, and it didn’t talk down to kids. The pranks and telekinesis offered a buffer of humor, a levity that’d buoy you, as you rooted for the underdog. And, along the way, key lessons emerged, like the power of kindness (shown by Matilda’s teacher, Miss Honey) and the need to stand up for yourself and others, no matter how powerful your foe. Like the books Matilda reads, this story, too, teaches kids everywhere that they are not alone, in whatever they’re going through.