Showing posts with label Clive Revill. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clive Revill. Show all posts

Saturday, 30 November 2024

Marty's choice... The Legend of Hell House (1973)

 

Although the story of this film is fictitious, the events depicted involving psychic phenomena are not only very much within the bounds of possibility but could well be true.

Tom Corbett, Clairvoyant and Psychic Consultant to European Royalty

 

The BFI recently screened this film as part of the series celebrating Martin Scorsese’s favourite British films not directed by Michael Powell (of course) and it fully justifies the director’s favour on a number of levels and it makes me wonder why I haven’t watched it before. If you want an engaging haunted house mystery that maintains its edge without resorting to gore and predictable jump scares then this is it. The performances of the four leads are what creates the tension and John Hough directs his players and atmosphere very well aided by an uncanny score from electronica pioneer Delia Derbyshire and Brian Hodgson.

The premise is grand and simple with wealthy old man Rudolph Deutsch (the great Roland Culver) calling scientist Dr. Lionel Barrett (Clive Revill) to his fabulous country house (take a bow Blenheim Palace) to task him with proving the existence or otherwise of an afterlife. Barrett is a sceptic of course but this is why he gets the big bucks, to put the Deutch’s mind at rest either way, by staying a week at the incredibly haunted Belasco “Hell” House. Emeric Belasco was a reputed sadist and free-range pervert who is believed to have committed multiple murders after one excessively sordid orgy of evil. Any relation to the Great Mage Alistair Crowley and Boleskine House, the Scottish mansion where he attempted to summon the 12 Kings and Dukes of Hell, is purely co-incidental.

Pamela Franklin

The House’s horrific reputation is well earned with a previous scientific survey resulting in disaster with multiple fatalities and only one survivor Benjamin Franklin Fischer (Roddy McDowall – hurrah!!) who barely kept his sanity. Fischer is a “physical” psychic around whom supernatural phenomena is expressed through smashing household objects. He is joined by Florence Tanner (Pamela Franklin) whose gift is more cerebral and allows her to commune with the spirits of "surviving personalities" which to Dr Barrett are nothing more than residual electromagnetic energies. He ain’t afraid of no ghosts.

Now, if all this sounds unpromising you have to have the cast who can not only say all of this with a straight face but also truly believe it and this is where the film utterly delivers… The three aforementioned, together with Gayle Hunnicutt as Barrett’s wife Ann, respect the story which is the only way to truly frighten an audience about supernatural possibilities by simply acting natural. Well, that and things going bump in the night but Hough’s touch is rather more delicate than many directing for Hammer, Amicus or Tigon at this time.

 

Clive Revill

From the opening quote from one Tom Corbett – an actual clairvoyant who probably did consult at least one royal family - onwards, the film adopts a “scientific” approach to the subject and with a course of events mapped out over individual days much like experiments that have taken place in these “haunted” locations. It’s very forensic approach to the narrative, allowing the building of an evidence-base for the unsettling events that unfold.

The four assemble at the house on Monday 20th December, ghosts clearly love Christmas, with the Barretts driven over in Deutsch’s Daimler with his assistant (Peter Bowles) whilst Benjamin grimly walks from a train station and Florence floats past a church at a Dutch angle… Hough films his characters close up and often from below all of which creates an atmosphere of claustrophobic dread. As they approach the house there’s a wide angled shot before a close-up of Florence looking up the forbidding granite grey as the others, still in focus, approach the door. We’re already in the minds of these characters and Pamela Franklin is the ace in the pack, expressing intense sensitivity and innocence – her Florence is wide open to the possibilities ahead and if they are malevolent we know she will be hit hard.

Roddy McDowall

After dinner at 8.46pm, Florence begins to sense something and later in her room she not only feels the same presence who she believes is the son of Belasco, but her bed clothes are inexplicably rolled back. The next day Professor Barrett duly wires her up in an attempt to measure the energies causing these phenomena. It’s an impressive sequence that has the audience grasping at the possibility that we are still in the rational world. Hough’s camera is fixed on Franklin and, indeed on the legs she reveals wearing a leotard – the male gaze or a hint at the reasons she is the first to be “contacted”. Ectoplasm shoots from her fingers and even as the Professor notes this into his recording of the events we know things will get out of hand.

Later on, glasses are smashed as they eat dinner and during the night Ann comes under some kind of demonic sexual possession during which she attempts to seduce Benjamin. Her husband’s natural response is to bring in bigger machines in an attempt to drain the unnatural energies and cleans the building… but as the psychic assaults get fiercer will science win out or will they find the depth of the hell in the house?

Gayle Hunnicutt

Dusty verdict: As Roger Ebert said in his positive review at the time, this is far from the usual haunted house story and it allows for its characters to gradually get the measure of their situation as it, day-by-day, begins to reveal itself to them. Everything is explained but only in ways that leave the possibility of a rational scientific escape route… maybe.

The script was by Richard Matheson, adapted from his original book but with more graphic sexual scenes left mostly to our imagination – apart from one gratuitous scene with Ms Franklin. The score from Derbyshire and Hodgson combines electronica with some traditional instrumentation and is sadly not available separately although the film is on Blu-ray now.

Talking of music, I finally got to place the quote from Orbital's I Don't Know You People - from the Middle of Nowhere album – when a spirit possessing Florence calls out about their intrusion. Clearly a generation and more have been struck by the film and its influence is still felt… in fact, I’ve just felt a chill down my spine. Wait, what is that?!

Looks harmless enough...

 

Saturday, 13 July 2013

Sun, sea and spying… Fathom (1967)


OK, what’s the excuse for watching this film? On a rare sick day it was good to watch the least demanding thing possible… and, as what passes for British summertime being what it is, additionally pleasing to watch a film based largely in that stretch of the Costa del Sol so beloved of the British tourist from the start of the jet age: Nerja, through Malaga to good old Torremolinos. Sunshine and nostalgia never seem more connected, especially with the British summer being what it is…etc.


Then there was also a fine cast led by smiley Anthony Franciosa, stalwart Ronald Fraser, comically-creepy Clive Revill, young and bumbling Richard Briers and, erm, the pre-eminent sexual super power of the time, Raquel Welch…

Great views all round

All round, the view is pretty spectacular and the camera spends much time on the natural beauties of Andalucía.

Fathom came after the initial post-Bond period when spy films had evolved into female spy films and also into comedy female spy films. As such it’s everything you’d expect, from an exponentially twisting narrative to snappy dialogue and the glamorous location… The Brits didn’t colonise Torrey for another full decade… and even now the country inland just a few miles is sensational.

The pre-eminient what?
Larry Forrester had invented the character in his 1967 novel A Girl Called Fathom and this film was based on the draft for his follow-up, Fathom Heaven-sent which was never published.

Miss Welch plays Fathom Harvill a dental hygienist who is also a part-time sky-diver. She’s in Spain to take part in a competition, one she has a very good chance of winning.

Fathom is briefed by the men from HADES
She is picked up by a casual and slightly comic Englishman, Flight Lt. Timothy Webb (Briers) who whisks her away to meet one Col. Douglas Campbell (Fraser) who is, Chief of HADES, a British secret agency who want to utilise her skills to land in a villa containing international spies who have stolen a valuable triggering mechanism for a nuclear weapon. The mechanism has been hidden in an ancient Chinese statuette, the Fire Dragon.

Timothy takes Fathom on a fly past to show her the location and the “enemy”, American mercenary Peter Merriwether (Franciosa) who is working with the Chinese secret service agent Maj. Jo-May Soon (Greta Chi) and the strange English family of Mr and Mrs Travers…

Fathom meets the baddies?
Fathom makes her drop armed with a helmet containing a recording device. But when she enters the vila she finds a dead body and, picking up the murder weapon by instinct, is photographed by Merriwether. He intends to blackmail her into telling him everything but she’s pretty smart for an untrained spy/trained hygienist and quick talks her way to safety after helping him dispose of the still unexplained body.

She books a room in Casa Miguel, a charming local hostelry run by ex-pat scuba-diver, photographer and hotelier Mike (Tom Adams).

Tim presents Fathom with the secret weapon...
Fathom is then sent armed in iconic lime green bikini, to investigate a third party who is interested in the Firefly… a strange Russian Sergi Serapkin (Revill) who inhabits a temperature controlled yacht… his metabolism always has him ten degrees cooler than an average person, so far so sixties…

Fathom cools Sergi’s passion and uses an explosive earring supplied by the Brits to make her escape.  Serapkin pursues her but is intercepted by a speedboat recklessly driven by Timothy.


The plot gets really complicated as Fathom is unsure which guys are the bad guys and if, indeed there are any good guys. By this stage, as in all such things, it hardly matters as the twists and turns are “cheaply” made and, literally anyone could be either and anyone could be alive or playing dead.

Spot the baddie...
The surprises are maintained though, largely thanks to the excellent cast who make up for any plot deficiencies by playing it for laughs. Fraser and Briers make for a good pairing, both capable of “sinisterly-comic” whilst Franciosa more straight-ahead good humour could easily be mistaken for the amorally psychotic.

The Joey Tribbiani school of acting...
As for Raquel… she acquits herself well and has more comic timing than she’s maybe given credit for. Maybe the abundance of revealed flesh confuses the viewer and possibly distracts from any balanced view of technique. Sixties sexuality was a curious thing… Fathom side-steps feminism and the character gives better than she gets from the chauvinists all around her.

Leslie H. Martinson provides snappy direction and oversees some glorious shots of La Costa whilst British jazz legend,  Johnny Dankworth provides a knowing and of the moment score.

Dusty verdict: undemanding and good-looking comfort food for rainy days and sick days.

It’s available on DVD from the usual suspects