Topography of terror… The Reptile (1966)

Horror connoisseur Kim Newman describes this film as one of his favourite Hammer horror films whilst The Monthly Film Bulletin review described its "… unusually controlled dignity for a Hammer production; instead of the customary blood-lettings ... Altogether, a film of quite some merit." Yet Kevin Thomas of the Los Angeles Times was most definitely not impressed; "the script is too silly for all but the most uncritical."

It’s been said many times but Hammer films were made on the tightest of budgets and in the shortest time possible with many having no more than a six week shoot which was strictly 9 to 5.30 and with no time spent working at weekends. The cast and crew were all highly professional and could work with minimal retakes, having to nail these scenes as quickly as they could.

The stories were often pulp fiction but the film-making skills involved in their making is often admirable. So it is with The Reptile which despite a plot located firmly in the depths of the region of daft, manages to be both atmospheric and interestingly human with characters you care about.

The tightly-arranged location; pub, church and graveyard all in one place

Part of this is down to director John Gilling making a positive virtue out of his restricted budgets and the inventiveness of his production designer Bernard Robinson aided by Don Mingaye’s art direction. Together they create a intimate world that you soon work your way around; they seem to have taken the corner of an old house and used it to create a corner of a village with a pub and nearby a Church and graveyard with which we become very familiar. It’s quite a feat but most of the action takes place in this set with the exception of the moors that separate the mysterious mansion from the cottage in which our main protagonists try to work out the mystery and survive.

Few films have The Reptile’s sense of place, you know exactly which direction the danger is at any time and Gilling must either have had an unerring sense of direction or a compass. Into all this are placed his players and, as with a theatre production, he moves them around with such skill as well as getting the upmost from their reactions and anticipations. This is not a gory film but it is decisive and quick with moments of death, just like the viper in question and with those characters constructed as carefully as the narrative, sets and movements the whole thing is an enjoyably unsettling journey into nostalgic unease.

Jennifer Daniel and Ray Barrett

The film was actually shot directly after The Plague of the Zombies, also directed by Gilling who using many of the same sets, including exterior shots in the grounds of Oakley Court near Bray, Berkshire…  The only two actors in both were established character actor Michael Ripper – here playing local publican, Tom Bailey – and a relative newcomer, Jacqueline Pearce, beloved of many as Blake’s Seven’s Servalan, and an actor of real depth and technical prowess (trained at Lee Strasberg's Actors Studio in Los Angeles).

The story begins with a young man, Charles Edward Spalding (David Baron) investigating strange goings on at a mansion owned by a Doctor Franklyn (Noel Willman), who wears an expression caught somewhere between fear and arrogance and who, we don’t doubt, has paid the price for meddling in Eastern practices that cross the line between mysticism and science… He is unable to prevent Spalding climbing the stairs and confronting a creature that runs at him faster than the eye can follow leaving him instantly poisoned and dead within seconds.

John Laurie and Michael Ripper two superb character actors

He is not the first to die under such circumstances in the village and when his brother, a soldier named Harry George Spalding (Ray Barrett) arrives with his young wife Valerie (Jennifer Daniel) to make their home in Charles’ humble cottage, he is soon confronted by a wall of silence, emptying Tom’s pub as he casts aspersions on the frightened clientele. Tom’s a good lad, but he’s travelled far and thinks he knows well enough to leave well enough alone… he advises Harry to forget the mystery of his brother’s death and to leave.

There are many types of military men and, in this case, Harry is certainly not one to cut and run and neither is his wife, Valerie being made of stern stuff – perhaps Hammer wrote some female parts better than they were ever credited with? There’s certainly a lot of meat for both the women in this film to get their teeth into.

Talking of chewing, that’s exactly what John Laurie does to the scenery when he arrives at the Spalding’s cottage as Mad Peter, on the cadge for some food and full of tales that clearly hint at the truth of what’s going on. Before he arrives, Valerie is greeted by a beautiful young woman called Anna (Ms Pearce), the daughter of Dr Franklin and as vivacious and delightful as he is rude and repulsive. She and Valerie hit it off over flower arranging before a mysterious oriental figure The Malay (Marne Maitland, playing to type here… he was born in India and of mixed heritage but he was schooled in the UK, attending Bedales School and Magdalene College, Cambridge). Anna returns to the big house with his prompting… who is The Malay and what is his hold over the Franklyns?

While her sitar gently weeps...

Before we find out Mad Peter proves not to be that mad but certainly 100% dead which inspires Tom to finally offer to help the Spaldings. Events move at a place especially when the Spaldings are invited over for dinner with the Franklyns and Anna gets carried away with the sitar… Clearly something happened in the Orient which has bound The Malay, the Doctor and Anna together and the reveal is not overplayed as suspense and sympathy is maintained with admirable restraint.

Dusty Verdict: Well acted and very well directed, The Reptile is a treat and shows the underlying skills involved in Hammer filming: disciplined expression and generous, theatre-honed ensemble playing. Enough to make almost any plot believable.

The future now, then… Privilege (1967)

‘The Government is Coalition and the slogan is “We Will Conform.” No, we won’t, and you should know that by now, Mr. Watkins.’ The Sun… er, yes, “we” will and you have been complicit.

Directed by Peter Watkins after The War Games, Privilege proved another controversial and challenging film from the director and one that resonates ever louder today in societies controlled by manufactured distractions, in the arts, society and politics. It’s not just pop that’s confected but outrage and dissatisfaction with other parts of society, political and trading alliances and even specific members of the royal family.

The American philosopher Neil Postman wrote a book called Amused to Death long before Roger Water wrote an album based on its arguments. The bottom line is that our culture is endangered when “… a population becomes distracted by trivia, when cultural life is redefined as a perpetual round of entertainments, when serious public conversation becomes a form of baby-talk, when, in short, a people become an audience, and their public business a vaudeville act, then a nation finds itself at risk...”

Mr Jones

In Walker’s film set in the then near future of the seventies, pop star Steven Shorter (Paul Jones) is the most popular figure in the country who is being used to help control the mood of his fans. Shorter’s stage act is dangerous and drawn from his own experience of being incarcerated for a minor crime. He is brutalised by burly stunt men dressed as prison warders and policemen and his fans are driven to a frenzy.

This seemingly anti-establishment narrative is a double bluff by the powers that be who only want to generate a certain amount of anger; enough to amuse the masses and prevent them from more focused thoughts and action with respect to the actual state of the country.

This double bluff fantasy leaves Steven numb and it’s no slight on Paul Jones’ acting ability to say he plays it well. Watkins knew what he was doing in casting a pop star in this role as well as a famous fashion model, Jean Shrimpton as an artist, Vanessa Ritchie who is hired to paint his portrait. The limitations of both work perfectly well in the film as life begins to swim uncomfortably fast for both – the public would also have identified with them and potentially felt more identification with their alienation and abuse.

Jean Shrimpton

As it is the doe-eyed super model is perfect as another intentional thought experiment; giving Stephen someone to identify with, someone who will take the edge of his experience and his free will; a cold and deliberate act offering his someone warm and caring. But surely, he’ll see through it? Stephen’s problem that his life is under control and he is being moved around too fast to think let alone mount a response.

This is no doubt similar to the way The Beatles and The Stones felt at the peak of their mad fame and even Paul Anka who was the focus of Wolf Koenig and Roman Kroitor’s 1962 documentary, Lonely Boy, which Watkins studied extensively.

Privilege is cast as a documentary and has the stripped-down aesthetics of cinema verité making us as much the audience as the screaming fans. We too are shocked by the violence of Stephen’s stage show as he is handcuffed and bloodied by the fake prison screws. Jones’ unease is exceptionally well captured by Watkins and the film is by no means a quaint period piece. Quite the contrary, as he is totally controlled by manager Martin Crossley (Jeremy Child), PR Alvin Kirsch (Mark London), record company exec Julie Jordan (Max Bacon), and money man Andrew Butler (William Job).

Uncredited bit part from Lucy Fleming on the left, later to star in Survivors...

Steven adds his brand to anything from apples to nightclubs, shopping centres and grocery brands; he’s very much a commodity himself.

The music was composed by Mike Leander who would have success with his own product, Gary Glitter, in the seventies and his key song here, Set Free becoming a hit for Pattie Smith in the late 70s as Privilege (Set Me Free). It’s also hard to watch the film without thinking of Malcolm McDowell in A Clockwork Orange – an individual the state wants to brainwash and use for their own ends.

Privilege is one of the key films that show the dissatisfactions of the swinging sixties through all the flowers and an ostensibly successful underground movement that may have produced some great art but which was firmly back in its box by the time Glitter took over. Still, Steven is ultimately defiant and so was the country’s alternative culture with Punk, new wave and the ongoing battle to sidestep the powers that be.

Buy British apples!

Dusty Verdict: Privilege is proto punk but also representative of the culture of resistance always present in Britain; we need it now as much as then even if it may only be illusory and temporary you have to keep believing in the freedom Steven really wanted. Reviews at the time were universally defensive – see The S*n’s comment at the top – but also proven quite wrong. Watkins was as usual, ahead of the game.

The film is available on the BFI’s brilliant Flipside series as a DVD/Blu-ray with lashings of extras. One of the best films about pop and pop cultural appropriation. Go on, set yourself free…