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DVD/BluRay Reviews; Horror and Sci Fi
DVD/BluRay Reviews; Horror and Sci Fi
Doomwatch, The Man With The X-Ray Eyes, XTRO, The Year of the Sex Olympics, Zombie Lake, Psychomania, Symptoms, Ghost Story, 80,000 Suspects, Twins of Evil, The Monster Club, Countess Dracula, A Clockwork Orange, Journey to the Unknown.
The Man With The X-Ray Eyes (Second Sight) Blu Ray 2NDBR4118-TM
Introduced by disturbing images of a disembodied, bloodied eyeball in a jar of bubbling liquid and dissonant, freeform jazz music, anyone thinking this film will be a standard creature feature is in for a rude awakening.
Former romantic lead of the 1940's, and star of 'Dial M for Murder' Ray Milland, plays scientist Dr. James Xavier with assured tautness. Desperate to complete his work on a serum which will, he hopes, extend the range of human sight, Dr X is beset with difficulties that threaten his pet project; the old, hobbling duo of time and money. Beholden to the foundation supplying the finance, and the hospital supplying laboratory space, Dr. X is sure he can bring his idea to fruition, but his superiors are less convinced.
Moral support with some reservations comes from his friend Dr Brandt (Harold J. Stone) and his business associate Diane Fairfax (Diana van der Vlis), leading Dr. X to try out the serum on himself, after failure on a monkey subject. Modern audiences may have mixed feelings about this scene, with its apparent callous disregard for animal life, even with Dr. X willing to include himself in the definition of a lab rat.
The effects of the drug, adminsitered via an eye dropper, are felt immediately, as Dr. X begins to see into his own eyes, and through the thin paper file on his desk which would normally mask the typed paper reports within. 'It's like a splitting of the world' he raves, as the full possibilities of his extended vision dawn on him. With no need for X-Rays, he can spot internal injuries and cancers immediately. His supporter is not so convinced, and clearly worried about the possible side affects.
For a little light relief, Diane invites Dr. X to a party of fellow sophisticates, dressed to the nines by today's standards, twisting rather stiffly to the modern jazz on the hi-fi. With a dry martinin made with surgical precision using a hypodermic syringe for a measure, Dr. X's stuffy reserve begins to break down, and he notices that the blonde who has been chatting him up actually has brown hair, and he looks around, only to see the partygoers dancing naked! A little embarrassed, he tells Diane he sees her 'as never before' and her amusement at realising what he means is both unexpected and charming.
Dr. X's moment of pride before a fall comes when, attending an operation, he demands to perform it himself, on account of having seen that his colleague's diagnosis is incorrect, and that the operation as planned will result in the death of the young patient. Being proved right and operating successfully is no consolation for him, as his colleague threatens to sue him for malpractice.
After accidentally becoming the cause of his friend Dr. Brandt's death in a fall from a high window, Dr. X goes on the run, suffering the ignominy of becoming a sideshow attraction, 'Mentalla, the Mind Reader'. The sideshow owner, Crane (renowned comedian and roaring boy Don Rickles) offers to manage Dr. X's career, turning him into a 'healer', despite the fact that he can only see, not heal. It's here that Diane traces him to his 'surgery', a set of miserable down town rooms, where he offers sometimes false hope to the elderly and desperate 'patients' who pay a few dollars for his 'consultation'.
Dr. X sees a way he can quickly raise the cash to carry on his research, and most importantly, make more of the serum which is running precariously low. He resolves to go with Diane to Las Vegas, where his ability to read playing cards from their backs will help him win a fortune. The shots of Las Vegas' hotels and casinos with their enticing lights, instead of cascading and dissolving in ever more beautiful and hypnotic patterns, are seen through Dr. X's eyes, their nervous, skeletal forms, splintered, phasing and fading as the pair drive past. After a conspicuously successful night playing the one-armed bandits and at Black Jack and Vingt et Un, Dr. X and Diane attempt to leave with the spoils. His naivete is incredible in such an educated man; as if the owners of the casinos would ever allow him to walk away with a suitcase full of loot.
Dr. X's escape is made alone, driving a gas-guzzling Lincoln at breakneck speed through the desert, hotly pursued by a Police helicopter, which he can clearly see through the hard metal roof of the car. Crashing off the road, he wanders bruised, cut and exhausted until he meets his fate at a religious revival tent.
Despite its advanced scientific subject matter, 'The Man With The X-Ray Eyes' is shot through with potent religious imagery, from Dr. Brandt's warning, 'Only the gods see everything' to Dr. X's self sacrificial experiment, his becoming an outcast from society, his few followers, including significantly, a woman prepared to become an outcast like him, his journey through the desert pursued by the authorities, his tempation at the gaming tables of Las Vegas, his body pierced by barbed wire thorns on a farm fence and finally, his submisison and redemption at a revival meeting of a hell fire church.
With its tight shooting, nervous atmosphere and feeling of approaching dread for our protagonist, a man in deep trouble and at the end of his tether, 'Man With The X-Ray Eyes' resembles an Alfred Hitchcock film more than its American International stable-mate camp horrors.
The disk has a number of special features that are well worth investigating, among them the original trailer in typically hysterical shocker style, and the original, portentous preamble with more than a hint of Ed Wood about it.
Directed by horror exploitation maestro Roger Corman, and pre-empting the later, body-horror films of David Cronenberg,
'The Man With The X-Ray Eyes' is a must-have for science fiction and horror film fans. Available to pre-order now, and on general release from 4th May.
Scenester
2/5/2020
XTRO (1982) Second Sight Limited Edition Blu Ray 2NDBR4084 disc box set
Out now on DVD and BluRay, a spruced up version of the low-budget 80’s sci-fi horror ‘XTRO’; a film which warned unsuspecting earthlings that ‘not all extra-terrestrials are friendly’.
Made at a time when special effects meant getting your hands dirty, ‘XTRO’ sets us a familiar premise for the sci-fi nut; a repulsive alien creature, bent on takeover, visits earth and sets about propagating its race by impregnating living things. That the results appear to produce a different hybrid each time is one of the more interesting plot aspects, and it’s not short of great ideas.
The film opens up with a typical family scene, father Sam (Philip Sayer) is playing in the garden of his large rural home with his son, Tony (Simon Nash) when the whole area is plunged into darkness and a strong wind begins to blow. Sam disappears completely.
Fast forward three years, and life has moved on for Sam’s wife Rachael (Bernice Stegers) who now lives in a smart apartment block with American photographer boyfriend Joe (Danny Brainin) and her sad, dreamy son Tony (Simon Nash).Tony’s bedroom is an untidy jumble of mobiles, tops and models, all carrying a whiff of the supernatural about them.
#The alien creature returns to earth and after killing a couple of motorists, stalks the countryside for more likely victims. The creature is played by Tim Dry, whom those with long memories may recall as the former of Tik & Tok, a pair of performers who had robotic dancing down to a fine degree, perfectly aping the movements of highly sophisticated machines. He excels at animating the creature as it scuttles about on its four limbs, its head reversed. After breaking into the country house of a glamorous young woman, the creature attacks and impregnates her, her pregnancy advancing at an incredible pace, until she gives birth graphically to a full grown man; it is Sam, subtly altered by alien medical science. This is the first of a number of gross-out scenes which take the place of the spaceships and explosions the regular sci-fi crowd will have been expecting.
Sam re-appearance in Rachael’s life predictably puts a strain on the family, not least boyfriend Joe, and his renewed bond with Tony is remarkably strong. After seeing his father eat some of his pet snake’s eggs, Sam explains to his son about his trip to an alien world, and teaches him a few tricks with telekinesis. It’s here that the film dips its horny toes into fantasy land, with Tony bringing his clown puppet (Peter Mandell in great, creepy yet playful form) and his soldier doll (Sean Crawford, or Tok to you and I) to life, to wreak havoc at a nasty neighbour’s home.
The family have a home help from the famous agency which supplies only impossibly good looking girls to do such work, and Analise (Maryam D’Abo, in her debut role) frolics with her boyfriend, but comes to a predictably sticky end, being attacked and used as an incubator for the creature’s eggs.
I’ve told you enough, but there’s more on the disk; no less than two extra cuts, interviews with director Harry Bromley Davenport, trailers and TV spots, test footage for an upcoming XTRO and an article by XTRO super fan Dennis Atherton.
‘XTRO’ is a crazy, messy, gory amalgam of Alien and E.T., with elements of folk horror and the ‘weird child’ cycle, cheap and cheerful effects, capable actors and a director with more dash than cash, and it’s worth a dozen Hollywood films with no plot, a bigger budget and slumming stars. If that doesn’t make you want to see it, there’s no hope for you. Scenester
26/6/18 trailer
https://btmail.bt.com/cp/ps/Main/mediaserver/SLSlidePreviewFrameset?dummy=0&u=scenester1964&d=btinternet.com&t=d43d2&rnd=0.595182471070019&l=en&accountname=DefaultMailAccountThe Year of the Sex Olympics 1968 BFI V2128 b/w
Rarely available and little repeated since its original broadcast as part of BBC2’s Theatre 625 in 1968, Nigel Kneale’s chillingly prophetic ‘The Year of the Sex Olympics’ is now available on BFI DVD.
Set in a coldly automated future where citizens are divided into the mutually exclusive classes of ‘low drives’ and ‘high drives’, the former are kept quietly docile by the latter, through the pervasive medium of television. Programmed with the most cynical of motives, the endless diet of no-brow comedy and lame porn is broadcast by wide awake, toothy presenters, gurgling their introductions to such slapstick idiocy as ‘The Hungry Angry Show’ followed by canned applause and effusive praise. The main event on this channel - as in gully- is the aforementioned Sex Olympics. Golden competing couples, heroically coiffured and naked, or nearly so, embrace, grinning gamely at the cameras, resplendent on their huge rugs and floor level beds, as they are introduced in the manner of gladiators, ready to demonstrate their mettle.
Watching without pleasure, hawkish studio executive Nat Mender (Tony Vogel) typifies his high drive breed; always on point, ever optimistic, full of media buzzwords (Super King Size!), he and his toadying colleagues pass programming ideas around to keep the ‘low drives’ entertained, watchful of the audience reaction on one of the many wall-hung screens. Co-Ordinator Ugo Priest (Leonard Rossiter) passes on his ‘Old Times’ words of wisdom to all, as well as his pained memories of the pre-automated world. Dispensing his sage observations as liberally as the ‘brighteners’ – a cross between a baby’s dummy and an ice lolly, dosed with a Prozac-like drug (another prediction?), he subtly ensures the smooth running of the station and its output of mindless entertainment.
Not everyone is happy with this numb, carefree paradise, however. Young high drive rebel Kin Hodder (Martin Potter) has a taste for Munchian/Baconian art, his etchings a nerve shredding gallery of tortured, screaming heads and swirling vortices. His devotion to an art which provokes the forbidden emotions of fear, disgust and shock leads him to invade a studio broadcast, dangling from the gantry, flashing up his degenerate art work to the cameras, with predictable reactions from the audience. His deadly fall provokes an even bigger one, and the executives immediately spot the potential in the emotion felt in the pain and death of another, and set about creating a new show, with action, drama and - dare we say it? – human interest at its core.
Despite being a vision of the future, the age in which it was made is always obvious; never more so than in the characters’ mode of dress, a melange of pop psychedelia banyans and mini-skirts, long (wig) hair tied behind their heads in loose ponytails, giving the overall impression of half-heartedly imitated contemporary pop stars. And that’s just the men. The shiny dresses and even shinier metallic hair of the women make them resemble fashion dolls dressed from the wardrobe of a particularly lively Doctor Who companion.
We watch amid the discomfort of realising that the audience, that is, we, the ultimate audience, not the studio one, are being shown a television play, written by a master of the science fiction genre, about the insidious, controlling nature of television on the masses. We play long, just like the studio audience.
Writer Kneale turns on the screws still further, with the campaign for the new, empathetic reality serial, ‘The Live-Life Show’, in which a couple volunteer to go and live on a remote island, lacking any modern conveniences, or even any ‘Old Time’ ones, and fend for themselves, a task they are totally unprepared for. Nat and Deanie (Suzanne Neve) our couple in name only, do the leap into the unknown, taking their young daughter, Keten (Lesley Roach), a shy, introverted ‘low drive’ who clings to her sad-looking rag doll, ignoring the trashy gewgaws Nat disinterestedly presents to her from the wall-tube, helpfully marked ‘Toy Dispenser’.
This disconnected, unemotional family arrive on the island, armed with only an electronic device which gives advice on how to survive this new, hostile environment. Tips on how to start fires, plant seeds, recognise a sheep – as well as how to kill, butcher and cook it – are all part of their palmtop friend’s repertoire. Their every action is being monitored and broadcast to an audience, now showing rapt attention, eager to see the promised ‘real life‘ drama. They don’t have to wait long after remotely experiencing the cold and the hunger that the ‘players’ feel for real, as the basic challenges of life, familiar to anyone from our age who has ever been camping, appear and multiply. All the while, the studio audience lap it up, sympathising with their misfortunes, at last feeling something that’s has resonance, and not some drip-fed, puerile fantasy world. The triumphant, braying laughter of the executives rings out in the studio, with the realisation that they have hit upon the ultimate formula for faultless mind-control.
After watching ‘The Year of the Sex Olympics’, the viewer might be tempted to think that the future might have decided to afford writer Nigel Kneale a glimpse of itself. Prefiguring modern day television shows like the isolating, terminally dull ‘Big Brother’ or the low-end, near-porn of ‘Love Island’, ‘The Year of the Sex Olympics’ stands or falls by its warning about the dark powers at large in the wider media, the blatantly controlling ethos of television, and the fascistic attitude of some of its upper echelons. The obvious question remains; why didn’t we heed its condemnatory message?
‘The Year of the Sex Olympics’ is presented with an audio commentary, a Kim Newman introduction, Joyce Hammond’s costume designs and Nigel Kneale in conversation. Also, a supporting film in the shape of 1979 curio ‘Le Petomane’, penned by world beating comedy writing duo, Ray Galton and Alan Simpson, starring Leonard Rossiter as the French 19th Century entertainer Joseph Pujol, who raised flatulence to an art form.
Scenester
29/3/2020
https://shop.bfi.org.uk/the-year-of-the-sex-olympics-dvd.html#.Xp81Qpl7nIU
Zombie Lake (1981) Black House Films DVD BH001
Black House Films’ inaugural release, out on DVD on Monday 20th March, is Euro horror ‘Zombie Lake’, a surprisingly tender take on the by then very familiar walking dead genre, directed by Jean Rollin and Julian de Laserna. If you’re anything like me, the name ’Rollin’ in the credits is enough to sell any film to you, and the fact that the great French maître d’horreur (sorry) has a small speaking part in the film, is an added bonus.
The killing causes ructions in this sleepy bucolic village, with its population of tubby, magnificently moustachioed loafers baying for blood to the rather indifferent mayor. It takes a further attack, this time on a troupe of similarly nubile female volleyball players, who also find the lure of the lake irresistible and who proceed to strip off for a little sporting fun in the water. The resemblance to a Benny Hill sketch ends abruptly with the slow-motion, underwater assault on the ball players by our undead Third Reich refugees, who must have thought their collective birthdays had arrived all at once.
The story takes a sentimental turn with the revelation that one of the Stormtroopers had a romance with a local girl during the war, which resulted in her falling pregnant. We learn that the mother died young, leaving her baby in the charge of its grandmother, and she is now a young girl, still living in the village. Stretching credulity to ludicrous lengths, we find that she recognises her father as the leader of the submarine Nazis, and begins to show feelings of love and respect for him, warmly reciprocated by the rotting, undead soldier.
The villagers are not so forgiving, however, and decide to take matters into their horny hands, armed to the teeth with farming implements and shotguns, like a scene from any number of old Hollywood creature features. Like a small battery of La Resistance, they go in search of the murdering zombies, this time with the blessing of the Mayor, who seems to have suddenly turned his attitude to the terrible events round 180 degrees.
The acting ranges from barely adequate to risible. The zombie make up is poor, and would have been so ten years before. The chills are non-existent. So what kept me in my seat for the 80-odd minutes it took to tell the tale? It’s a mixture of period charm, the shots of the beautiful French countryside, an unconventional take on the standard zombie story, and the fact that it’s Rollin, even if only a weak infusion of the maître’s style. In these days of multi-million dollar budgets, mega-stars appearing in the horror genre they would once have sniffed at, sophisticated special effects which manage to improve on reality rather than just simulate it and bland, dreary, scripts that were produced by a committee of bean-counting dunces, it makes a welcome change to see a film made on the hoof on a low budget, with nothing but a hook to hang a story on. Die-hard Rollin fans will love it, early video nostalgia freaks will enjoy it, horror aficionados will probably dismiss it out of hand, but all will go away with an opinion of it.
Zombie Lake has hidden…depths.
Scenester
16/3/17
Psychomania (1973) DVD/BluRay (BFIB 1259 BFI Flipside 033)
Spoilt rich boy Tom Latham (Nicky Henson) loves to hang out with his hand-picked bike gang, a somewhat soft crew of British luvvies, who assist him in a rather tepid series of acts of defiance, in his desperate search for thrills. They ride a selection of respectable, if rather old and temperamental British machines, rather than the Harleys hinted at in the film’s sales pitch, and sport Lewis Leathers customised with their ‘Living Dead’ club logo, their helmets emblazoned with a skull and crossbones design that raises camp to new heights, even for a bike gang.
Worth seeing for the cast alone, Robert Hardy plays Chief Inspector Hesseltine, and his wandering Northern accent is a delight in itself. Ann Michelle plays Jane, the red leather clad bad girl of the gang, and Roy Holder is the surprisingly named gang member Bertram.
Bored with the possibilities of running innocent taxi drivers off the road and chasing unsuspecting young mums and their prams around the otherwise deserted breezeblock shopping centre, Tom has a plan to top all of that tedious, minor lawbreaking. You see, Tom’s family just happen to be occultists, and may hold the key to eternal life.
Tom’s mother, played by the great Beryl Reid, is a well-heeled spiritualist, with a penchant for floaty dresses and an aversion to accepting money for her séance activities. Her servant, Shadwell, (superbly played by George Sanders, in his final film) is a dyed in the wool diabolist, with a keen interest in the amphibians he regards as emissaries of Old Nick. Tom demands to know the secret of the (wait for it) ‘locked room’ and the true story of his father’s death, and he learns that one who commits suicide believing he will return, will surely do so as one of the legion of the undead.
Armed with the secret, Tom returns to his motley band of biker friends, intent on demonstrating its efficacy. Sharing it with regular girlfriend, Abby (Mary Larkin), a shy girl with a soft haircut and a taste in brushed denim suggestive of one who is not a committed biker, Abby is unimpressed with this arcane knowledge. Besides, she has to go shopping with her mother that afternoon. Undaunted, Tom rides to his death, shocking the gang.
In a moment of rare solemnity, the gang, with his mother’s glad permission, bury Tom mounted on his bike, near a circle of mysterious standing stones, known as The Seven Witches. Later that night, shrouded in mist, Tom bursts out of his grave on the supercharged bike, in a scene all but predicting the cover design to Meat Loafs’ 1977 LP, ‘Bat Out Of Hell.’ Possibly.
The remaining members follow Tom’s lead, mostly successfully, and on they go, terrorising all they run across. That such a piece of outrageous hokum ever got made, is an indication of what desperate straits the British film industry was in, at the time. US interest and money gone, a film script had to have essential elements to secure funding. Sex and violence were reliable earners, but the still largely untapped youth culture market was also an attractive prospect. Combining youthful rebellion, bikes, implied sex, suicide and occultism, you could almost see the £ signs roll around the prospective backer’s eyes. The wealth of bonus material includes lavish booklet containing notes by film historian Andrew Roberts and the BFI’s William Fowler and Vic Pratt, interviews with Nicky Henson, Mary Larkin, Roy Holder, Dennis Gilmore and Rocky Taylor and film curios like ‘Discovering Britain’ Avebury edition, with narration by John Betjeman, later poet laureate. With his musings on what sort of rites may have taken place at this mysterious site in pagan times, is it possible that Betjeman made his way to Avebury on a Triumph Bonneville, clad head to foot in Lewis’ best leather drag, to make this delightful travelogue? The amateur film ‘Roger Wonders Why’, about the 59 Club’s legendary founder, The Rev Bill Shergold, gets a welcome showing, among material about the remastering of the main feature. All that’s missing is the pattern for Roy Holder’s fetching crocheted waistcoat.
The interviews with the stars areperhaps the only slight disappointment here, as many seem to regard Psychomania as a blot on, or at least a blip in, their otherwise unblemished stage and film careers. A little perspective is needed here, as I would guess that few of their more respectable efforts ever gained the small, but affectionate following Psychomania has since.
Scenester
18/9/16Link to BFI; http://shop.bfi.org.uk/catalogsearch/result/?cat=0&q=psychomania
Afficianados of classic 70’s children’s TV will be delighted to hear that ‘Timeslip’ is now available complete on DVD. With only sporadic releases on VHS and DVD in the past, its re-release together with documentaries, scripts, picture galleries and fan club footage, will light the fires of old and new fans alike.
First; the bad news. ‘Timeslip’ was originally recorded in colour on videotape, excepting two episodes recorded in monochrome, which was due to a technician’s strike. Archive monochrome ‘tele recordings’ were taken of each episode, basically by aiming a film camera at a b/w monitor screen, with inevitable loss of picture quality, and of course colour. The story runs, that the colour tapes had been poorly stored and were unusable, with one exception; an episode of the ‘Ice Box’ story, and it’s included in this boxed set. It’s a crying shame, but there’s a lot left to enjoy of this classic 45 year old TV show.
Peter Fairley’s long, wordy and somewhat meandering explanation of Fred Hoyle’s ‘Time Bubble‘ theory takes us into the first episode of the first story set, ‘The Wrong End Of Time’. We learn that the Skinner family, consisting of father Frank (Derek Benfield), mother Jean (Iris Russell) and teenage daughter, Liz (Cheryl Burfield), are on a caravan holiday, with Simon (Spencer Banks), the teenage son of a family friend, in tow. Two polar opposites, Simon is a classic swot, big, dark rimmed glasses and all, whereas Liz is an excitable, outgoing girl, and more than a little bored with the situation. Liz and Simon go off exploring the outskirts of the little town of St. Oswald, coming across a disused naval base. Ostensibly, the antidote to the expression ‘curiosity killed the cat’, our mismatched pair discover that the airbase hides a curious secret. It’s a doorway to another time period, in fact, the Second World War. The first story set explores the persistent urban legend of the successful landing of a German Naval crew, and their takeover of a British Naval base during the Second World War. The sensitive playing of another, earlier arrival from Liz and Simon’s time period, a girl who spends much of her role screwed up in her chair, sobbing, and the emotional states Liz finds herself in when discovering her father’s younger self as a Naval Rating in the base, gave its audience more to chew on than just the usual sci-fi stodge. Another veteran of stage and screen, Dennis Quilley, plays Commander Traynor, who will feature heavily, and centrally, in most of the stories.
The second story set has Liz and Simon in the most hostile environment on Earth, the Antarctic, in ‘The Time of The Ice Box’. Essentially a future shock film in neat, twenty minute bites, Liz encounters her own 1990 self in the shape of a hard hearted, haughty young woman, and her shocks don’t end there. Our young heroes have arrived at exactly the right moment to be mistaken for a pair of volunteers for some advanced surgical techniques, but not before they are put onto the routine longevity drug, HA57, which all of the inmates take. The Ice Box’s domineering director, Morgan Devereux, is played with chilly menace, bordering on criminal insanity, by veteran actor John Barron. A bleaker storyline could scarcely be imagined, but there it was, on kiddie primetime.
Our third story set posits an alternative 1990 for the pair, in ‘The Year of the Burn Up’, in which the UK, after years of ill thought-out geo-engineering and catastrophic global warming, has been turned into a tropical jungle. This hazard-filled, yet comparatively pleasant story has future Liz as a hippy earth mother type, with a white suited Simon lurking in the background as one of the faceless ‘technocrats’, who caused this mess in the first place.
Our fourth and final set, ‘The Day of The Clone’, takes us back to 1965, and the start of Devereux’s experiments into longevity, cloning and climate change, which lead us on a peculiar dance of death, with a downbeat ending that is a complete surprise to all.I make no apology for my complete bias here; I’m a huge fan of this fascinating, imaginative and emotionally charged show, from a time when Sci-Fi was even gaining respectability as an adult form. That it is largely Liz’s story is evident from the word go, but this does not alienate the male half of its audience. That our two protagonists are not particularly likeable, or even get on together, is no hindrance to what is basically a very human and involving story, one that takes in familial feelings, the building of friendship and trust, growing up, and the possible futures that may await us. They are all dealt with, with intelligent story lines, and without talking down to the adolescent audience.
I’ve already said I envy new comers their first viewing of this gem of a show, and I’d add to that list, those of you re-acquainting yourselves with it forty-five years on.
Scenester
30/7/16Link to buy:
http://networkonair.com/shop/2331-timeslip-the-complete-series-5027626448844.htmlSymptoms (1974) BFI 032
Newly released on Dual DVD/Blu Ray format by those diligent BFI Flipside folk, comes a Gothic psychological thriller directed by Jose Ramon Larraz. Readers may be familiar with this director, from his erotic horror ‘Vampyres’, of the same year, and although the action here centres once again on two young women, the two films couldn’t be more different.
A shy, withdrawn girl, Helen, (Angela Pleasance) has invited her more confident, worldly friend Anne (Lorna Heilbron) to her spacious estate in a rural English backwater, for a holiday. Anne seizes on the opportunity to get over a failed relationship, and Helen’s reason is given as being part of her general convalescence. The generously appointed house is decorated perhaps more to Helen’s parents’ taste, and the thick woods bisected by a winding river and the presence of a creepy gardener (Peter Vaughan, superb) adds to the anticipatory tension the viewer is probably already feeling.
Larraz approaches and suggests a great deal here, from the obvious debt to stories like ‘Rebecca’ and ‘Turn of the Screw’ to the young women’s implied relationship and their long, impenetrable silences, leaving the viewer to populate the story with all manner of wrong assumptions. The framed picture of Helen’s absent friend, Cora, sits where we might expect a picture of Helen’s family, although Cora is nowhere to be seen, at least not yet.
Helen is no sooner settled in her spacious pile, than she begins to display nervous, insecure behaviour. Reeling around the rooms in her nightclothes, long hair flying, oblivious to anything else around her, Angela Pleasance’s manic, almost childlike performance is intense and totally believable throughout. Anne, mannishly clad, her hair in a Germanic flick and wearing severe glasses, cuts a polar opposite figure, and who starts to feel concern for her friend and her erratic behaviour.
The sound of faint laughter in the house and the undeniable evidence of a former resident prowling about cranks up the tension, and our gardener, axe over his shoulder, returning to his shack filled with stuffed animals, keep us in traditional Gothic territory. Anne’s stolen glance of Helen, disrobing near a mirror, gives us our first real shock; she isn’t alone in the room.
Helen’s worsening mental state becomes something of grave concern for Anne, finding her curled up, halfway up the stairs, her eyes staring into some distant scene. Later, the sound of faint, ecstatic moans coming from her friend’s bedroom convinces Anne to bide her time, and to investigate Helen’s room when she’s not around. The sight of steps leading to an attic in the room, are enough to convince Anne that they’re both in danger.
It would be unfair to reveal any more of this engaging, sympathetic and thoroughly unnerving love story. This dual format edition is packed with much material on Larraz, including two documentaries, one on ‘Vampyres’ and one dealing with his career in depth, from the popular ‘Eurotika’ TV programme. The interviews with editor Brian Smedley-Aston and our two stars, Lorna Heilbron and Angela Pleasance are highly detailed, and perhaps surprisingly so, given that over forty years have passed since the film was made.
Scenester
2/5/16
2/5/16
http://shop.bfi.org.uk/symptoms-flipside-032.html?___SID=U
Doomwatch Series 1-3 (Simply Media DVD)
Doomwatch Series 1-3 (Simply Media DVD)
The whisper of ‘Doomwatch’ at last coming to DVD was more than enough to excite the jaded palate of this reviewer. Apart from a couple of VHS videotapes released back in the 80’s and a repeat showing on UK Gold in the 1990’s, this classic Eco Disaster/SciFi drama has been off-screen since its original transmission in the early 1970’s. Spanning seven DVD disks, all the remaining episodes from the three series are collected together, including the much talked of but never broadcast, ‘Sex and Violence’. I say remaining, as the show was a victim of the BBC’s slash and burn attitude to any show not deemed saleable or fashionable, in the 1980’s.
Created by Kit Pedler and Gerry Davis, this ground breaking show is making its welcome, belated return, when its basic premise and message sounds more relevant than ever. A Governmental scientific agency, the ‘Department for the Observation and Measurement of Scientific Work’ nicknamed ‘Doomwatch’ routinely tests out new products and processes, to ascertain whether they will harm the environment. Led by former atomic physicist Prof Quist (John Paul), and staffed by a mixed bag of talent with varying backgrounds, the agency goes about its vital work, encountering danger, mercenary business people, obstructive interested parties, and often hindered by the very Government ministers they are ultimately answerable to.
John Paul makes an excellent Dr Quist, effortlessly portraying a man making up for his part in the development of the nuclear deterrent. His office, typically spacious and stark for the period, has a huge framed poster of a nuclear explosion covering most of one wall. Among the regulars ably assisting the Doctor, is the mature and down to earth Colin Bradley (Toby Blanshard), the impetuous and rather arrogant Dr John Ridge (Simon Oates), and the young and idealistic Toby Wren (pre-international fame Robert Powell). Guest stars are plentiful, and fans of period TV will enjoy spotting such luminaries as John Barron, Hildegaard Neil, Barry Foster, Paul Eddington and many others in supporting roles.
The key fears of that far off decade; technology overrunning humanity, medical horrors and the threat of eco-disaster are realised powerfully in such episodes as ‘The Iron Doctor’, ‘Tomorrow, The Rat’ and ‘Invasion’; amplified on, even, as the viewer’s face is rubbed into some uncomfortable truths about the scientific community and its relationship with government. The sheer breadth of subjects taken on is staggering; plastic eating solvents, super intelligent, disease-resistant rodents, biological weapons, criminal profiling, subliminal advertising and mood-altering food additives, all highly controversial then and now.
Those born after the flowering of psychedelia may have trouble believing that scientists and business people once dressed in the flamboyant outfits worn by Ridge and Wren, even though Ridge adopts a more conventional suit for one episode. Techno nostalgists will have a ball, marvelling at the early commercial computers on show here, the roomfuls of memory banks, card readers the size of ice-cream vans and the eerie glow of the boxy monitors.
The condition of the prints is typical for a TV show of its age, a little shuddering, a few shooting dots, but nothing too distracting. The sometimes poor quality of the backdrops is also typical of the period, but is more than made up for by the excellent location shooting. Performances can vary, some edgy, some too loose to convince, but overall, Doomwatch hit its target every time, and the record number of complaints it received for ‘Survival Code’ and its follow up, ‘You Killed Toby Wren’ (only the latter survives) bear witness to this.
This seven DVD set, which includes the BBC documentary, ‘The Cult of Doomwatch’, is a must for sci-fi fans and nostalgia buffs alike, and we are finally getting our mitts on it, courtesy of Simply Media.
Scenester
1/4/2016
1/4/2016
Link for DVD: http://www.simplyhe.com/sci-fi-fantasy/164480-doomwatch.html?gclid=CPSRptXO7csCFeIp0wodV_AEVQ
Ghost Story (1981) Second Sight Blu Ray 2NDBR4049
Out now on DVD abd Blu-Ray, an atmospheric treatment of Peter Straub’s story from 1981, with a fine cast, including veterans Fred Astaire, Douglas Fairbanks Jnr., Melvyn Douglas and John Houseman, and relative newcomers Craig Wasson and Alice Krige.
Basically a traditional tale of lifelong friendship bound by a dark secret, four professional men, Ricky Hawthorne (Fred Astaire), Dr John Jaffrey (Melvyn Douglas), Edward Charles Wanderley (Douglas Fairbanks Jnr.) and Sears James (John Houseman), meet regularly to tell each other ghost stories, as members of the ‘Chowder Club’. Admission to the club is restricted by telling a suitably chilling ghost story. Something’s in the air, however; all four men are having nightmares of increasingly horrifying power, and all about a living, rotting corpse which intrudes into their lives.
The spectacular death of Edward’s son, the successful David (Craig Wasson in a dual role, as brothers David and Don) by falling from a window after a particularly vivid nightmare, is an early, gory shock, and leads to the return of Edward’s younger, more laid-back son Don, to his New England hometown, to comfort his distant and disapproving father. Its then that Don reveals that he had an affair with his late brother’s fiancé a few years before, and that he feels she may have had something to do with David’s tragic death.
In one of several elegantly staged flashbacks, Don recalls taking up a teaching job at the local high school, and an affair with the school secretary, the mysterious, seductive and highly sexually adventurous Alma (Alice Krige). As the affair between Alice and Don developed into a full-blown, one-sided obsession, with Don the smitten partner and Alice, the cold, strangely distant protagonist, Don realises their affair is unhealthy, and splits up with her. Don’s father lashes out at his son’s indiscreet revelation at such a sensitive time, and the old intergenerational divide opens up once more.
Don’s submission as a prospective member of the Chowder Club is a highlight of the film, taking in his fears that he may have fallen in love, not so much with a woman, but with a malign elemental force, and told in flashback with brutal honesty.
The chance discovery of a picture of the youthful four friends, duded up in the flamboyant fashions of the 1920’s, with a mystery flapper whose blurred face only excites Don’s imagination, leads to a terrible discovery, but not until ever more terrifying visions of decomposing corpses haunt the elderly members of the Chowder Club.
The chance discovery of a picture of the youthful four friends, duded up in the flamboyant fashions of the 1920’s, with a mystery flapper whose blurred face only excites Don’s imagination, leads to a terrible discovery, but not until ever more terrifying visions of decomposing corpses haunt the elderly members of the Chowder Club.
Cinema audiences of the early 1980’s were probably a little surprised to see the veteran stars of classic Hollywood working in the horror genre, and contemporary reaction was mixed, to say the least. At such a distance in time, we can now just enjoy what is basically a tale well told, from the pen of one of the worlds’ leading writers, stylishly shot in an idyllic New England setting, and with some genuine shocks to boot. Extras on the Blu Ray edition include trailers and TV/radio spots, picture gallery, Alice Krige’s memories of playing in the film, and much else, besides.
Scenester
17/1/15
17/1/15
http://www.secondsightfilms.co.uk/film/ghost-story-blu-ray/
http://www.secondsightfilms.co.uk/film/ghost-story-dvd/
http://www.secondsightfilms.co.uk/film/ghost-story-dvd/
80,000 Suspects 1963 (Network DVD 7954401 & Blu Ray 7958037)
Among Network’s current releases is this Val Guest-directed English ‘cosy apocalypse’ film from 1963, starring Richard Johnson and Claire Bloom, whom many of you will recall from the classic ‘The Haunting’. Set in the picturesque city of Bath, and with an excellent cast of UK thesps to play the achingly middle class characters, it’s an impressive piece of work.
Dr Stephen Monk (Johnson) has his New Year’s Eve celebrations interrupted by a call to attend his hospital, where a patient is showing worryingly feverish symptoms. Monk suspects smallpox and when confirmed, immediately orders quarantine for the patient and decontamination for everyone who has come into contact with him. One ruined dinner suit later, he’s ready to return to the spirited party that is still being enjoyed by his increasingly alienated wife, Julie (Bloom) and his former lover, Ruth (Yolanda Donlan), who certainly enjoys ‘La Dolce Vita’, both metaphorically, and on this night, Brit-style, in the city’s famous Roman Baths.
The pacing is tight, centring on the City’s leaders’ attempt to contain the epidemic, and more importantly, to trace ‘patient zero’. As with many British films of the 50’s and early 60’s, it’s the look that’s most compelling; the scarcity of traffic on the Georgian streets, the smartness of dress of the major characters, and the charmingly British speech, barely a vowel mispronounced or a preposition out of place, even if Americanisms like ‘perked’ coffee creep in, so as not to alienate a potential transatlantic sale.
Our ‘first’ patient’s movements are carefully researched from accounts given by his family, and his progress around the city’s clubs, shops and coffee bars are all usefully employed to place the story, perhaps misleadingly, in the typical youth haunts of the period. Although not exactly The Wild Angels, young people do feature, with their sometimes comical hip-speak, British style, and their very suburban take on fashions.
The Monks’ marriage is deteriorating rapidly, and as Julie volunteers her former nursing skills to help with the crisis, seeing less and less of her husband, rather than more, she succumbs to the virus. The enormous mass-vaccination programme yields up some light, cheeky humour. A model refuses a bicep injection, which would mar her appearance, opting for a jab in the thigh. The nurse jokes about whether many fewer people will end up seeing it.
The film does not shy away from the terrible, highly contagious symptoms, or the fact that, it being spread by bodily contact, the sexually promiscuous are likely to be the most successful, unwitting harbingers of its rapid progress. The moral tone of the latter part of the film is typical of the period, but understandable here.
80,000 Suspects tells the story of the progress of a virulent disease which has thankfully since been eradicated, and the world it is set in, has as good as followed it to extinction. To those of you who love the stories and style of this fascinating period, or maybe just feel a faint nostalgia for it, I can recommend this film to you without any reservations. A good, exciting and fast paced thriller, with a human angle that makes it a must-see for all.
Scenester
18/10/15
18/10/15
‘Twins of Evil’ (1971) Network Distributing Blu Ray 7957078
New from Network, Hammer’s liberal retelling of J Sheridan Le Fanu’s ‘Carmilla’ has hit Blu Ray, and it looks sumptuous. In an age when censorship was at last relaxing its grip on the film world, Hammer took full advantage of the possibilities of showing what had usually been suggested in previous years, to great effect.
Stepping back from the traditional vampire/victim storyline, the viewer is presented with several scenarios to keep their interest level up. The arrival of a pair of beautiful young twins, Maria and Frieda, played by pinups Mary and Madeleine Collinson, in a repressive, rural town does a fine job of piquing the interest of the local men and upsetting their Puritanical host and protector, Uncle Gustav, played to chilling perfection by Peter Cushing. Gustav’s gang of religious zealots spend their time preaching the Word and putting to the stake, those who do not conform to their high standards of behaviour. The town is effectively ruled over by this Puritan sect, but one local is seemingly untouchable, the decadent, debauched Count Karnstein, (Damien Thomas) whose hill top fairy-tale castle looms over their mean dwellings and miserable lives.
The town is realised in the usual understated Hammer style, with lime washed houses and straw on the ground, carts trundling their way through the tiny market place. Into this bucolic scene are thrust the twins, fresh from their Viennese school, all in unscholarly velvet and décolletage, ready for adventure. The unpromising small town scene yields up a much more tempting prospect, however, with news of the wild life enjoyed by the Count on the hill. This being a Hammer film, where melodrama is never very far away, one twin is mad keen to meet the Count, whereas the other, more wary. The Collinsons are identical twins, and as such, are difficult to tell apart, but Hammer fans would never let such a detail, nor their paucity of acting skills, spoil a good shocker.
The local girl’s school, presided over by musician Anton and his sister, is the twins’ intended haven from the wicked world, and although Maria is interested in Anton, he has eyes only for Frieda. Anton (David Warbeck) possesses a level head and a sense of decency that allows him to argue against the burning of suspected witches, with Gustav, railing against superstition, and yet, reading extensively about vampires.
The Count’s castle has a composite style, somewhere between medieval folly and high camp Austrian; all the better for staging the sham satanic rites his pander, played with relish by Dennis Price, organises to amuse him. Tiring of these poor quality productions, the Count slaughters a girl in one of them, and succeeds in vivifying his ancestor, the wicked Carmilla Karnstein. Turned into a vampire by Carmilla, in an incestuous scene that almost goes unnoticed in amongst the later carnage, the Count pursues his lusts with increased vigour and enthusiasm, transforming Frieda into a vampire, whilst her more careful sister covers for her at the house.
This potboiler of sex, superstition, corrupt religion, downtrodden peasantry and decadent aristocracy comes to an exciting climax in true Hammer style, with lashings of grue and gore thrown liberally about.
Scenester
23/9/14
Scenester
23/9/14
Countess Dracula (1971) BluRay(Network Distributing Ltd 7957079)
Just out on the Network label, and in a sumptuous BluRay transfer, is Hammer’s classic costume romp, ‘Countess Dracula’.
Freely based on the story of Countess Erzsebet Bathory, the notorious serial killer from the noble Hungarian Bathory family, believed to have tortured and brutally murdered over 600 young girls in the late 16th to early 17th Centuries. Hammer’s characteristically deft choices of cast, setting and costume raise this film far above the cheap exploiters of the period.
Directed with considerable skill by Hungarian émigré Peter Sasdy, and starring the striking beauty, Ingrid Pitt as ‘Elizabeth Nadasdy’, not one moment of its 93 minutes is wasted as our bloody Countess weaves her web of deceit, betrayal and systematic murder.
Our first sight of the Countess is at the reading of her late husband’s will, heavily veiled, to hide her aged features from the world as much as to observe funeral etiquette. An accidental cut and a splash of blood from her maid on her mistress’s face turns out to be a youth restorer, and with the help of her adoring Lady-In-Waiting, Countess Elizabeth sets out on a spree of blood-letting, later realising that only the blood of virgins has the magical restorative, but ultimately temporary, power.
This newly widowed member of the nobility has many admirers, among them Captain Dobi (Nigel Green) her Steward, but the Countess has her greedy eyes on a young neighbour, a handsome army officer, Lieutenant Imre Toth, (Sandor Eles). Pretending to be her own daughter, Ilona, whom she has had kidnapped and confined (the here, criminally underused Lesley-Anne Down) she entraps Lt. Toth with her youthful beauty, and plays with the long-thwarted affections of Cpt. Dobi as her older self.
This newly widowed member of the nobility has many admirers, among them Captain Dobi (Nigel Green) her Steward, but the Countess has her greedy eyes on a young neighbour, a handsome army officer, Lieutenant Imre Toth, (Sandor Eles). Pretending to be her own daughter, Ilona, whom she has had kidnapped and confined (the here, criminally underused Lesley-Anne Down) she entraps Lt. Toth with her youthful beauty, and plays with the long-thwarted affections of Cpt. Dobi as her older self.
A fine supporting cast of downtrodden peasants, cheap whores, travelling players and gypsies, and a sympathetic portrayal of both victims and their aristocratic enemies, make for one of the greatest of Hammer horrors. Among the extras, the original trailer, which gives the impression of a sex comedy than a frenzied, murderous escapade, audio commentary and interview with Ingrid Pitt and other goodies you won’t want to miss.
Scenester
8/9/14
8/9/14
The Monster Club (15) Network 7957072 Blu-Ray
Just out on the video label of choice Network Distributing, and on a crisp, clear Blu-Ray print made from original film elements, ‘The Monster Club’ will delight fans of British horror with its cheeky mixture of flesh-crawling terror and sardonic humour.
The pairing of veteran actors Vincent Price, playing the vampire Erasmus, and John Carradine, playing writer R. Chetwynd Hayes, would have been enough to get this critic into the cinema on its release in 1981. There are many other familiar faces in this feature, however.
Resembling an ‘Amicus’ portmanteau film, and directed by horror veteran Roy Ward Baker, we find ourselves in an otherwise deserted London alley, where writer R. Chetwynd Hayes takes pity on Erasmus, exhausted for lack of fresh blood, by allowing him a quick bite of his neck. Only a little one, though. Not enough to make him ‘One of us’, stresses Erasmus, and the jokey atmosphere is established. In payment for his reviving draught, Erasmus offers to take the famous writer to a club, which, he explains, will provide him with plenty of new material for his tales of terror.
Those of you hoping for a glimpse of Studio 54 at its hedonistic height may be a little disappointed to see something more like a West End tourist-trap in brewer’s Victorian décor, but don’t head for the door yet, there’s plenty to delight here. Order a Bloody Mary, like our writer, or the full Type-O like Erasmus, and enjoy the three tenebrous tales on offer.
The darkly comedic family tree of hybrid monsters takes us from the not unexpected ‘Were-Bat’, a product of a vampire and a werewolf’s mating, through the intriguing ‘Humgoo’s Ghoul/Human parentage, down to the sad-eyed ‘Shadmock’, whose descent from a ‘Mock’ and some other genetically challenged creature has left him an ugly, friendless yet gentle soul, and the subject of our first story. Basically a tale of money-grubbing deceit, Barbara Kellerman plays a beautiful young librarian who has agreed to help ‘Raven’ our Shadmock, to catalogue his vast but idiosyncratic collection of valuable antiques. At the instigation of her avaricious boyfriend, Simon Ward, she agrees to marry the lonely Raven, but her regular attacks of conscience do not entirely prevent her from robbing Raven as soon as his back is turned. Her fate is perhaps one of the most unusual in any horror film.
‘The Vampires’ centres on a tight knit, Middle European Jewish family, whose patriarch Richard Johnson is, of all things, a vampire. Britt Ekland’s kindly mother does little to alleviate the discomfort of her shy and sensitive son, bullied at school and uncertain of his father’s true nature. Donald Pleasance leads a team of crack vampire hunters, characters reminiscent of the kind of sinister gangs that would populate episodes of ‘The Avengers’. Viewers might be surprised at who gets to be staked.
‘The Ghouls’ is the only genuine scare here, with film director, Stuart Whitman searching for a likely location for his forthcoming horror film. He finds the seemingly ideal place in ‘Loughville’, an eerie, derelict village, shrouded in yellowish smog, apparently stuck in the 18th Century, and filled with tired, defeated people possessing limited vocabularies. With perhaps a slight dig at how visiting Americans sometimes perceive Britain and its inhabitants, our director soon realises that the village is living under some ancient curse, and the sudden appearance of his love interest, Luna, (Lesley Dunlop) a half human, half ghoul/girl, leads him to try and effect their escape from this charnel house before the terrifying ‘Elders’ arrive, hungry and murderous.
‘The Ghouls’ is the only genuine scare here, with film director, Stuart Whitman searching for a likely location for his forthcoming horror film. He finds the seemingly ideal place in ‘Loughville’, an eerie, derelict village, shrouded in yellowish smog, apparently stuck in the 18th Century, and filled with tired, defeated people possessing limited vocabularies. With perhaps a slight dig at how visiting Americans sometimes perceive Britain and its inhabitants, our director soon realises that the village is living under some ancient curse, and the sudden appearance of his love interest, Luna, (Lesley Dunlop) a half human, half ghoul/girl, leads him to try and effect their escape from this charnel house before the terrifying ‘Elders’ arrive, hungry and murderous.
Interspersed with music from veteran band ‘The Pretty Things’, a rather pale and vampiric looking B.A. Robertson, the full-throated assault of ‘Night’, whose ‘Stripper’ song is a creditable slice of late 70’s rock to accompany a very old, but still funny joke, and UB40, who don’t appear on screen, ‘The Monster Club’ may not win over the gore hounds, but the rest of us are more than happy with this brew of great actors, atmospheric settings and good, jokey fun to worry about them.
Scenester
17/8/14
17/8/14
A Clockwork Orange (1971)
Site-specific screening at Brunel University 2/6/2011
Site-specific screening at Brunel University 2/6/2011
The prospect of seeing this troubling moral maze of a film in one its striking settings was so tempting, your pal Scenester fair leapt onto the Piccadilly Line tube at Leicester Square, bound for Uxbridge and the leafy suburb where this vast campus is situated.
The brutalist architecture of many of the University buildings seem perfectly suited to the ‘future shock’ style of film that ‘A Clockwork Orange’ is superficially part of, and the sight of an enormous print of the familiar ‘mouth of hell’ poster, with Alex leering at us, upraised knife in hand, hung like a warning flag on the outside wall of the lecture theatre this screening would take place in.
Sponsored by a household name motor company, ‘See Film Differently’ did an excellent job with their presentation, securing a Question and Answer session with Jan Harlan, assistant and brother-in-law to Director Stanley Kubrick, together with an exhibition about the film.
After the welcome, where a string section performed extracts from the classical music soundtrack in the café, we were ushered into the Lecture Theatre. This, as the cineastes among you will know, is where the ‘Ludovico technique’ is carried out on our humble narrator, to condition him against criminal acts by the watching of film material under the influence of nausea-inducing drugs. I felt a little queasy to think that we were about to voluntarily watch a violent film in the theatre where the film’s protagonist was forced to watch violent films in the furtherance of medical science. As an aside, Alex’s parents’ flat block (the Orwellian-sounding Muncipal Flat Block 18A, Linear North) is Brunel’s Tower D, and the John Crank building doubles as the Ludovico Medical Facility reception area.
A recently shot introductory word from Malcolm McDowell was more than welcome, and I can report that his white-haired, weathered face still possesses the bluest orbs in Christendom, with apparent independent movement in their sockets.
I am sure that the vast majority of you will have seen ‘A Clockwork Orange’, but for those of you who haven’t, I’ll be as succinct as I can. Our ‘hero’, Alex, (what is his surname? Alex De Large? Alex Burgess?) is a classic young hooligan, from an averagely paid but not poor family, in (or rather, regularly out of) education, who together with his group of similarly inclined ‘droogs’, stalk the city in search of people to assault, houses to rob and females to satiate their lust upon. The film opens up with an awe-inspiring shot of the bowler-hatted and white-overalled Alex, about to sink a glass of ‘milk with knives’ (psychedelic drugs, or is it amphetamine?) in the gang’s favourite haunt, the ‘Korova Milk Bar’ where such additives to the drinks are the norm. It sets the scene perfectly, and establishes the style of the film early, where sets are garish, intimidatingly large and décor is loud and brash. Suitably sharpened up by their drugs, they go off into the night, where they encounter their old enemy ‘Billyboy’ and his gang, who are about to rape an unfortunate girl on the stage of a derelict Opera House. Alex throws wounding insults at Billyboy to provoke him, in the film’s characteristic mock-Shakespearian/Biblical speech style.
I am sure that the vast majority of you will have seen ‘A Clockwork Orange’, but for those of you who haven’t, I’ll be as succinct as I can. Our ‘hero’, Alex, (what is his surname? Alex De Large? Alex Burgess?) is a classic young hooligan, from an averagely paid but not poor family, in (or rather, regularly out of) education, who together with his group of similarly inclined ‘droogs’, stalk the city in search of people to assault, houses to rob and females to satiate their lust upon. The film opens up with an awe-inspiring shot of the bowler-hatted and white-overalled Alex, about to sink a glass of ‘milk with knives’ (psychedelic drugs, or is it amphetamine?) in the gang’s favourite haunt, the ‘Korova Milk Bar’ where such additives to the drinks are the norm. It sets the scene perfectly, and establishes the style of the film early, where sets are garish, intimidatingly large and décor is loud and brash. Suitably sharpened up by their drugs, they go off into the night, where they encounter their old enemy ‘Billyboy’ and his gang, who are about to rape an unfortunate girl on the stage of a derelict Opera House. Alex throws wounding insults at Billyboy to provoke him, in the film’s characteristic mock-Shakespearian/Biblical speech style.
After the near-lynching of Billyboy’s gang, interrupted only by the appearance of the ‘Millicents’ (Police) outside, the scene changes to perhaps the most troubling in modern mainstream cinema. The gang arrive via their stolen sports car at the remote house of an infirm writer, and pretending they have a friend who has had an accident, gain access to the house and proceed to beat and torture the helpless man and then rape his wife in full view of her husband. The lascivious glee, with which these terrible acts are carried out by the gang, made the film a particular bête noire of the UK press on release, and for many years following. The Press’s blaming of real acts of violence by young hooligans on the film was surely what prompted director Stanley Kubrick to withdraw it from circulation within the UK. Its re-release came after Kubrick’s death in 1995.
Tensions within the gang develop, and after an argument over supremacy, Alex finds himself betrayed by the gang, and in prison for manslaughter. Alex’s troubles only really begin here. His long incarceration prompts him to request he become an early subject of a new conditioning experiment (the ‘Ludovico technique’) which will ensure his rapid release from jail, at the price of being unable to engage in any future acts of violence. Alex’s naiveté is touching, as the technique will do exactly that, and rob him of his free will into the bargain. I counted just one swearword in the whole film, which Alex uses when he is nearly blinded with a smashed milk bottle by one of his own gang; ‘bastards’. It is a powerful example of ‘less is more’ in a film which is chiefly remembered for its excess.
After the screening, we were introduced to Jan Lenser, who recalled with obvious fondness his days as an assistant to the perfectionist Kubrick, long hours, punishing workloads and all. Jan told us he moved to UK from his native Germany and was taken by the charm of the British radio shows (presumably Radio 4), which talked about rose-pruning techniques at eight in the morning! Jan answered questions from the floor, the first one being about his first job, not, as one person suggested, as tea-boy for a film studio, but as a teacher. Your narrator asked him about Stanley Kubrick’s collection of recorded music (every format imaginable, and on a vast scale) which, I was pleased to hear, has been preserved as part of the wider Kubrick archive. Perhaps the most apposite question of the evening came Why ‘A Clockwork Orange?’ Reminding us that the title was writer Anthony Burgess’ own choice, Jan felt that it was simply the shocking union of an organic and a mechanical object, although this did strike up a debate, as some audience members recalled hearing the Cockney expression ‘queer as a clockwork orange’ (i.e. very queer, or strange, indeed).
The exhibition was held in a space on the first floor, and it’s for this part of the evening’s entertainment that I must offer my congratulations to the team who put it together. A central raised dais was decorated with the white, bulbous lettering of the film’s ‘Korova Milk Bar’ scene, advertising such tempting wares as ‘Drencrom’, ‘Velocet’ and ‘Synthemesc’ although myself and Mme Scenester made do with the complimentary, and only slightly less intoxicating, drinks on offer. The orchestra returned for an encore, and we passed around the walls, which were covered with production stills and posters, as well as some good quality photographic copies of rarer posters (like the ‘triangles and bodies’ poster), which we were barred from photographing, for presumed copyright reasons. Copies of the Stanley Kubrick Archive book were on display, taking in not just ‘A Clockwork Orange’, but all of Kubrick’s films, and if the rest is like the brief glimpse I had, it would be a worthy addition to any cinema fan’s shelf. The lateness of the hour and the vagaries of the tube system meant we had to cut short our time at this excellent exhibition. I’ll definitely be looking out for future ‘site specific’ presentations by ‘See Film Differently’.
Scenester
5/6/11
Also published on ‘Modculture’ 17/6/11
http://www.modculture.co.uk/culture/culture.php?id=79
5/6/11
Also published on ‘Modculture’ 17/6/11
http://www.modculture.co.uk/culture/culture.php?id=79
‘Journey To The Unknown’ 1968/1969 UK
I’m sure everyone reading this article has a mental list of favourite TV shows they can return to time and time again, and enjoy just as they did when they first saw them. The easy availability of whole TV series on DVD (a rarity on VHS tape, unless they were wildly successful) or on the many digital, cable or satellite channels means that we can see them all over again. But there are some that never seem to be given an airing by any of the TV channels, that have not appeared on any recorded medium and which we fear may have been victims of the Grim Wiper. I thought that ‘Journey To The Unknown’ may have fallen prey to the latter, to the best of my knowledge and belief, it was already in the first two. I am delighted to report that I was wrong.
‘JTTU’ was a tense, mysterious show that had a different story to tell each episode, usually about ordinary people who stray into an extraordinary situation or meet a very unusual person. The ‘Unknown’ referred to in the title was the human mind, and its reactions to these strange experiences. Made by our friends at Hammer, and shot on film in the late 60’s, its British locations and actors, with the star role going to an American actor each time, ensure it will be of great interest to lovers of that delirious decade.
To digress a little, being shot on film probably helped its survival, and isn’t it curious how the most flimsy and risk-prone recording medium of all has managed to preserve so much, whereas its distant cousin, videotape, has had much of its contents wiped and replaced by lesser stuff?
Over the last few years, I have been feeding the title of this show into my search engine, usually to little response. Recently, a search turned up a few addresses offering the entire series on DVD for a bewildering range of prices. They all stressed that this show has gone Public Domain and so no-one’s copyright is being infringed by bringing out a DVD copy for those who have tried and failed to bit-stream directly from the databank. I sent off a very reasonable few pounds and duly received my disk. OK, the picture’s ropey. It’s like looking through lightly faceted glass, the colours are s little washed out and the sound is low. Just like many moving images off the internet, unless your pc has the latest drivers and a memory the size of the US Defence Dept. computer. Put all of those petty gripes aside, like I did, and just enjoy this fabulous show.
If you’re familiar with shows like The Twilight Zone and Night Gallery, you’re thinking in the right area. The first story, ‘Eve’, concerns a young man working in a department store (Dennis Waterman) who falls in love with a store manikin whom he believes is real. With this manikin being played by the gorgeous Carole Lynley, it’s easy to understand his preference for her over his uncouth, mouthy female workmates. Needless to say, the affair is doomed, but not before a lot of touching scenes, played with great subtlety, keep us interested in this outrageous conceit.
‘Jane Brown’s Body’ has everyone’s favourite UNCLE Girl, Stephanie Powers, waking up with no memory of her life so far. A psychologist takes on the task of re-educating her, in what I feel can only be a tribute to the classic German (true!) tale, ‘The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser.’
Those of you with a taste for Victorian tack will be amused by ‘The Indian Spirit Guide’, a tale of fake mediums and table-turning to extract money from the gullible.
There is the truly disturbing ‘Miss Belle’, the story of a young boy who has been brought up by a relative to believe he is a girl. The arrival of an obligatory pool-cleaner at the palatial Southern Gothic home of the boy means trouble, as we see the sexually frustrated guardian realising she cannot keep her ward’s true gender a secret for much longer.
‘Paper Dolls’ is another one to raise the hairs on the back of your neck, ‘Midwych Cuckoos’-style. Sets of adopted children begin to show a curious character trait-everything one learns, the others learn too, and they speak of brothers and sisters their adopted parents didn’t know they had. Cue the Bad Seed, a boy who can control his siblings and inspire them to acts of defiance.
It is ‘The New People’, however, that really takes the prize for making you feel queasy as you watch. An American couple move to a beautiful English country village, determined that they fit in with the locals. They get invited to parties and generally enjoy the surprisingly lively and swinging set they have fallen upon. However, there is one man who stands out as a leader, and the costume parties and hunt balls our friendly US couple are initially pleased to attend take on a sinister edge. Masterly acting by Patrick Allen as the Aleister Crowley-like leader figure, and solid support from the sympathetic character played by Milo O’Shea, raises this episode, in my view, to a classic. Reminiscent of ‘Masque Of The Red Death’ and ‘Rosemary’s Baby’, it has to be seen!
‘One Man On An Island’ is a little too like a hastily drawn Horror Comic cartoon to be of much interest, but all is made up for in the magnificent ‘Matakitas Is Coming’. Starring one of my favourite actresses of the period, Gay Hamilton, who plays a librarian in what must be the darkest, creepiest library in the country. A journalist is researching, when she comes across a tale of a murderer who stalked his victims only yards away from the very building she’s in! This lonely place gradually becomes ever more uncomfortable, and she also begins to notice that her surroundings appear to have changed; reverted to an earlier time period. Attempts to call her editor on the telephone meet with failure, as the number and district she is trying to call do not (yet) exist. The brooding atmosphere is cranked up to terrifying effect, at the approach of Matakitas, back with murderous intent. Your next trip to your local library may be a short one!
The compelling ‘Somewhere In A Crowd’ is another high spot of the series, and once again stars a favourite of mine, the lovely Jane Asher. A TV news journalist, initially pleased to be on the scene of a series of newsworthy accidents, starts to notice that a certain set of people always appear to be present, close to the action. Trawling through the day’s film rushes confirms him in his belief that there is some sort of conspiracy going on, but no-one seems to share his view or concerns. Not even meeting a beautiful young woman fails to take his mind off these mysterious heralds of doom, and I could not be so cruel as to tell you how it ends.
For title alone, ‘The Beckoning Fair One’ deserves some sort of medal, and in a story that may owe a little to the classic ‘Rebecca’, we find that the influence of a late wife lingers on long after her death, in a painting of the lady.
‘Poor Butterfly’ is an unmemorable ‘ghosts at a sophisticated party’ story, but ‘Stranger In The Family’ more than makes up for it, with its claustrophobic tale of a young man who can command others to do his bidding. The South Bank setting, the well-meant but misguided attempts by his parents to keep him away from normal society, and his exploitation by a theatrical promoter and his female accomplice make this a must-see. The boy’s lack of experience with girls make him an easy target, and it is with very mixed emotions that you see the promoter getting his unwilling accomplice to play along with the boy’s adolescent crush on her. The disk I bought also contains three episodes of a series called ‘Out Of The Unknown’ one of which is another version of this story, brilliantly done. Sadly, this is probably all there is of ‘OOTU’; read the full sad story in Dick Fiddy’s excellent’ Missing Believed Wiped’.
The obsessive ‘technofear’ that was such a strong feature of cinema in the 1970’s gets an early outing in ‘The Madison Equation’, where a computer is used as both murder weapon and alibi provider.
‘The Killing Bottle’ is a classic tale of those who set themselves up as judges of their fellow man, and the abuse of power that often follows.
A good black comedy was obviously called for at this point., and ‘Do Me A Favour, Kill Me’ doesn’t disappoint. Few of us would arrange our own murder to get away from worldly problems, but that’s just what our flawed hero does, and then changes his mind. Not allowed.
‘Girl Of My Dreams’ has Zena Skinner playing a frumpy middle-aged waitress who dreams the future. Enter another scheming entrepreneur, determined to capitalise on her talent, promising her love and companionship in return. The sensitive playing of this gifted but lonely woman will have you wishing a very painful demise on her despicable exploiter. The episode is also notable for having a short role for Justine Lord, a frequent guest on ITC shows and one who needs no introduction at all to fans of ‘The Prisoner’
‘The Last Visitor’ will keep you away from boarding houses in general, particularly out of season, and is that a Brighton location we see?
All of which is a very longhand way of saying that after forty years, I have finally got to see my favourite off-kilter sci-fi/paranormal TV series again, and I can report that its power to keep me glued to my set is undiminished. Difficult it is to imagine a present day production company making anything as subversive as ‘Miss Belle’ (or being allowed to). This show, and many like it, were made in a time when there was, to be fair, much more money available to produce a quality product. However, ‘JTTU’ is not a multi-million dollar production; set work was limited, location shooting was the norm, and the ‘stars’ were usually stars later on, not at the time. The writing was usually superb, and the acting on the button; the time capsule that these episodes represent make them a gold mine to 60’s nuts like me; the everyday clothes worn by the characters are research material, to say nothing of the beautiful colour schemes in people’s homes and the cool, popular cars they drive.
The series was also remarkable for having each episode directed by Joan Harrison, who was, I’m told, the only female director working at this time.
I’ll admit that I would have preferred to see a good, clear picture transfer onto DVD, or better still, an airing on, say, ITV2 or BBC4, but let’s face it, it probably won’t happen. At least they can’t argue ‘there’s no market for old black and white TV shows’, because this one’s in full colour. Its Public Domain status will probably keep it off our screens for ever, except perhaps the National Film Theatre (can you hear me, friends?).
Lastly, if anyone reading this article recalls seeing it available on VHS/BETA/NTSC or whatever, or saw a repeat on TV, wherever in the world, please would you write and tell us all about it? Thanks in advance.
Scenester
25/1/09
I’m sure everyone reading this article has a mental list of favourite TV shows they can return to time and time again, and enjoy just as they did when they first saw them. The easy availability of whole TV series on DVD (a rarity on VHS tape, unless they were wildly successful) or on the many digital, cable or satellite channels means that we can see them all over again. But there are some that never seem to be given an airing by any of the TV channels, that have not appeared on any recorded medium and which we fear may have been victims of the Grim Wiper. I thought that ‘Journey To The Unknown’ may have fallen prey to the latter, to the best of my knowledge and belief, it was already in the first two. I am delighted to report that I was wrong.
‘JTTU’ was a tense, mysterious show that had a different story to tell each episode, usually about ordinary people who stray into an extraordinary situation or meet a very unusual person. The ‘Unknown’ referred to in the title was the human mind, and its reactions to these strange experiences. Made by our friends at Hammer, and shot on film in the late 60’s, its British locations and actors, with the star role going to an American actor each time, ensure it will be of great interest to lovers of that delirious decade.
To digress a little, being shot on film probably helped its survival, and isn’t it curious how the most flimsy and risk-prone recording medium of all has managed to preserve so much, whereas its distant cousin, videotape, has had much of its contents wiped and replaced by lesser stuff?
Over the last few years, I have been feeding the title of this show into my search engine, usually to little response. Recently, a search turned up a few addresses offering the entire series on DVD for a bewildering range of prices. They all stressed that this show has gone Public Domain and so no-one’s copyright is being infringed by bringing out a DVD copy for those who have tried and failed to bit-stream directly from the databank. I sent off a very reasonable few pounds and duly received my disk. OK, the picture’s ropey. It’s like looking through lightly faceted glass, the colours are s little washed out and the sound is low. Just like many moving images off the internet, unless your pc has the latest drivers and a memory the size of the US Defence Dept. computer. Put all of those petty gripes aside, like I did, and just enjoy this fabulous show.
If you’re familiar with shows like The Twilight Zone and Night Gallery, you’re thinking in the right area. The first story, ‘Eve’, concerns a young man working in a department store (Dennis Waterman) who falls in love with a store manikin whom he believes is real. With this manikin being played by the gorgeous Carole Lynley, it’s easy to understand his preference for her over his uncouth, mouthy female workmates. Needless to say, the affair is doomed, but not before a lot of touching scenes, played with great subtlety, keep us interested in this outrageous conceit.
‘Jane Brown’s Body’ has everyone’s favourite UNCLE Girl, Stephanie Powers, waking up with no memory of her life so far. A psychologist takes on the task of re-educating her, in what I feel can only be a tribute to the classic German (true!) tale, ‘The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser.’
Those of you with a taste for Victorian tack will be amused by ‘The Indian Spirit Guide’, a tale of fake mediums and table-turning to extract money from the gullible.
There is the truly disturbing ‘Miss Belle’, the story of a young boy who has been brought up by a relative to believe he is a girl. The arrival of an obligatory pool-cleaner at the palatial Southern Gothic home of the boy means trouble, as we see the sexually frustrated guardian realising she cannot keep her ward’s true gender a secret for much longer.
‘Paper Dolls’ is another one to raise the hairs on the back of your neck, ‘Midwych Cuckoos’-style. Sets of adopted children begin to show a curious character trait-everything one learns, the others learn too, and they speak of brothers and sisters their adopted parents didn’t know they had. Cue the Bad Seed, a boy who can control his siblings and inspire them to acts of defiance.
It is ‘The New People’, however, that really takes the prize for making you feel queasy as you watch. An American couple move to a beautiful English country village, determined that they fit in with the locals. They get invited to parties and generally enjoy the surprisingly lively and swinging set they have fallen upon. However, there is one man who stands out as a leader, and the costume parties and hunt balls our friendly US couple are initially pleased to attend take on a sinister edge. Masterly acting by Patrick Allen as the Aleister Crowley-like leader figure, and solid support from the sympathetic character played by Milo O’Shea, raises this episode, in my view, to a classic. Reminiscent of ‘Masque Of The Red Death’ and ‘Rosemary’s Baby’, it has to be seen!
‘One Man On An Island’ is a little too like a hastily drawn Horror Comic cartoon to be of much interest, but all is made up for in the magnificent ‘Matakitas Is Coming’. Starring one of my favourite actresses of the period, Gay Hamilton, who plays a librarian in what must be the darkest, creepiest library in the country. A journalist is researching, when she comes across a tale of a murderer who stalked his victims only yards away from the very building she’s in! This lonely place gradually becomes ever more uncomfortable, and she also begins to notice that her surroundings appear to have changed; reverted to an earlier time period. Attempts to call her editor on the telephone meet with failure, as the number and district she is trying to call do not (yet) exist. The brooding atmosphere is cranked up to terrifying effect, at the approach of Matakitas, back with murderous intent. Your next trip to your local library may be a short one!
The compelling ‘Somewhere In A Crowd’ is another high spot of the series, and once again stars a favourite of mine, the lovely Jane Asher. A TV news journalist, initially pleased to be on the scene of a series of newsworthy accidents, starts to notice that a certain set of people always appear to be present, close to the action. Trawling through the day’s film rushes confirms him in his belief that there is some sort of conspiracy going on, but no-one seems to share his view or concerns. Not even meeting a beautiful young woman fails to take his mind off these mysterious heralds of doom, and I could not be so cruel as to tell you how it ends.
For title alone, ‘The Beckoning Fair One’ deserves some sort of medal, and in a story that may owe a little to the classic ‘Rebecca’, we find that the influence of a late wife lingers on long after her death, in a painting of the lady.
‘Poor Butterfly’ is an unmemorable ‘ghosts at a sophisticated party’ story, but ‘Stranger In The Family’ more than makes up for it, with its claustrophobic tale of a young man who can command others to do his bidding. The South Bank setting, the well-meant but misguided attempts by his parents to keep him away from normal society, and his exploitation by a theatrical promoter and his female accomplice make this a must-see. The boy’s lack of experience with girls make him an easy target, and it is with very mixed emotions that you see the promoter getting his unwilling accomplice to play along with the boy’s adolescent crush on her. The disk I bought also contains three episodes of a series called ‘Out Of The Unknown’ one of which is another version of this story, brilliantly done. Sadly, this is probably all there is of ‘OOTU’; read the full sad story in Dick Fiddy’s excellent’ Missing Believed Wiped’.
The obsessive ‘technofear’ that was such a strong feature of cinema in the 1970’s gets an early outing in ‘The Madison Equation’, where a computer is used as both murder weapon and alibi provider.
‘The Killing Bottle’ is a classic tale of those who set themselves up as judges of their fellow man, and the abuse of power that often follows.
A good black comedy was obviously called for at this point., and ‘Do Me A Favour, Kill Me’ doesn’t disappoint. Few of us would arrange our own murder to get away from worldly problems, but that’s just what our flawed hero does, and then changes his mind. Not allowed.
‘Girl Of My Dreams’ has Zena Skinner playing a frumpy middle-aged waitress who dreams the future. Enter another scheming entrepreneur, determined to capitalise on her talent, promising her love and companionship in return. The sensitive playing of this gifted but lonely woman will have you wishing a very painful demise on her despicable exploiter. The episode is also notable for having a short role for Justine Lord, a frequent guest on ITC shows and one who needs no introduction at all to fans of ‘The Prisoner’
‘The Last Visitor’ will keep you away from boarding houses in general, particularly out of season, and is that a Brighton location we see?
All of which is a very longhand way of saying that after forty years, I have finally got to see my favourite off-kilter sci-fi/paranormal TV series again, and I can report that its power to keep me glued to my set is undiminished. Difficult it is to imagine a present day production company making anything as subversive as ‘Miss Belle’ (or being allowed to). This show, and many like it, were made in a time when there was, to be fair, much more money available to produce a quality product. However, ‘JTTU’ is not a multi-million dollar production; set work was limited, location shooting was the norm, and the ‘stars’ were usually stars later on, not at the time. The writing was usually superb, and the acting on the button; the time capsule that these episodes represent make them a gold mine to 60’s nuts like me; the everyday clothes worn by the characters are research material, to say nothing of the beautiful colour schemes in people’s homes and the cool, popular cars they drive.
The series was also remarkable for having each episode directed by Joan Harrison, who was, I’m told, the only female director working at this time.
I’ll admit that I would have preferred to see a good, clear picture transfer onto DVD, or better still, an airing on, say, ITV2 or BBC4, but let’s face it, it probably won’t happen. At least they can’t argue ‘there’s no market for old black and white TV shows’, because this one’s in full colour. Its Public Domain status will probably keep it off our screens for ever, except perhaps the National Film Theatre (can you hear me, friends?).
Lastly, if anyone reading this article recalls seeing it available on VHS/BETA/NTSC or whatever, or saw a repeat on TV, wherever in the world, please would you write and tell us all about it? Thanks in advance.
Scenester
25/1/09
Danger Came Smiling; Linder at Hayward Gallery
Speak No Evil (2022)
The Outcasts
The Hitcher
Witch
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Crimes of the Future (18)
The Changeling
The Last Sentinel
Full Circle, or The Haunting of Julia