The Snorkel opens with one of the more memorable
pre-credits sequences to be found in a thriller ... While not a classic, this
clever and twisted thriller, as well as Peter van Eyck's chilling performance,
is overdue for greater exposure.
John M. Miller, Turner Classic Movies
There’s been a revival in interest in what might loosely be
termed late-period Brit Noir films, with the restoration and home media release
of The Strongroom (1962) and renewed interest in The League of
Gentlemen (1960), The Boys (1961) and Hell is a City (1960).
These are all films drenched in Post War disappointment and thrillers in a way
that the oncoming tide of kitchen sink realism might wash away for a time.
There’s not much social commentary in The Snorkel but
there’s plenty of murderous intensity and a cynical man who just wants to
dispose of the human obstacles in his way using a method that is as evil as it
is devious. It’s a Hammer film and, as above, there is a programme to
re-release these films in deluxe box sets and with an excess of extras. This
version was released a couple of years back on Indicator Blu-ray but is in the
same vein as other Hammer mysteries of the time that are more based on unsettling mood than jump scares.
The whole enterprise is founded on one ingenious
method of murder – one which doesn’t deliver the underwater adventure you might
expect but it’s cruelly sinister and coldly premeditated murderousness makes
for compelling viewing. We know who did and it and how, it’s only a case of if
he’ll get away with it or strike again… like the darkest of Columbo episodes.
So, the murder is pretty much perfect with Paul Decker (Peter van Eyck)
using his scuba diving gear to kill his wife and make it look like suicide:
hiding under the floorboards breathing in oxygen as gas floods the room and chokes
his victim. The opening of the film show him calmly going about this murder,
with his mater-of-fact-ness contrasting with the hopeless condition of the
drugged murderee lying on the couch in their Italian mansion - Villa della
Pergola, located in Alassio, Liguria's riviera. The motive we can assume is one
of banal evil, Decker might need the money but he looks well off to us, or he
may just have grown tired of his wife but, either way, the deed is done and
within ten minutes it looks very much like he has got away with it.
Then, in steps the late Mrs Decker’s daughter, Candy, played by
Mandy Miller who was so exceptional in the tale of a deaf-mute child in Mandy
(1952) and here is still only 14 yet carrying a huge amount of the film’s moral
drive. She is all teenage fury in comparison with her wicked stepfather’s cold-blooded
calculation. She is convinced that years before she had seen him drown her
father and now she refuses to believe that he has not done the same to her
mother.
But in a world of polite adult rationality, Peter’s water-tight alibi
and seeming devastation is enough to convince the police (Grégoire Aslan) and Mr Wilson from
the British embassy (William Franklyn – who once gave me right of way at the tricky
cross-roads near Putney Bridge fact fans! A true gent!) who is very reassuring
but relies on the couple’s childminder Jean Edwards (Betta St. John) to manage
the Mandy’s emotions and recovery.
As
the inquest finds death by suicide, Peter has looked to have succeeded but Mandy
refuses to let go of her suspicions and tries everything she can to convince
the adults in the room… Even as "family" life seems to return to something like normal, as Peter takes Mandy and Jean to the beach, with a frisson developing between the young woman and the older man... the only question remains is how Peter will deal with
Mandy's suspicion and whether he will need to remove the“problem” in the same way as he has
done with her mother.
Directed by Guy Green from a screenplay by Peter Myers and Hammer legend, Jimmy Sangster, based on Anthony Dawson’s original story, the film struggles a little with Miller being slightly beyond her childhood but otherwise maintains an uneasy atmosphere and unfolding sense of inevitable do or die as unlikely father figure is pushed by the enduring suspicion of his stepdaughter… Two endings were filmed and one is darker than the other (included on the set) but both are pretty darned dark.
The extras are excellent and include:
- High Definition remaster
- Original mono audio
- Audio commentary with film historian Michael Brooke and author Johnny Mains
- Undercover Killer: Inside ‘The Snorkel’ (2018, 21 mins): an analysis of the film and its production by Hammer expert Jonathan Rigby, BFI curator Josephine Botting, and cultural historian John J Johnston
- Hammer’s Women: Betta St John (2018, 11 mins): film historian Kat Ellinger offers an appreciation of the American actress, singer, and dancer
- Original script ending (10 mins): a reconstruction of the final scenes as they appear in Jimmy Sangster's original screenplay
- Peter Allchorne and Hugh Harlow Remember ‘The Snorkel’ (2018, 8 mins): the Hammer production crew regulars recall making the film
- Four-Note Fear (2018, 24 mins): an appreciation of composer Francis Chagrin’s score by David Huckvale, author of Hammer Film Scores and the Musical Avant-Garde
- Original theatrical trailer
- Image gallery
- English subtitles for the deaf and hard-of-hearing
Dusty Verdict: The Snorkel is an excellent package overall and a weird, off-setting film that will linger with you a while and especially if you’re taking a late summer break skin diving in the Mediterranean. Just be careful who you dive with… that’s all I‘ll say.
You can buy The Snorkel Blu-ray direct from Powerhouse Films/Indicator and they have some very good offers on at the moment! Not to be missed and we are living through a golden period of home cinema release of British films!
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