Locker Sixty Nine (1962)

Locker Sixty Nine is a 1962 entry in the British Merton Park Edgar Wallace thriller cycle - a prolific and consistently excellent series of crime B-movies.

This one was directed by Norman Harrison and written by Richard Harris.

We are introduced to businessman Bennett Sanders and we realise he’s the sort of businessman who makes enemies. He has hired ex-cop Craig (Walter Brown) as a bodyguard.

Murder follows, or at least possible murder. With no body to be found Detective Inspector Roon (John Glyn-Jones) is understandably reluctant to commit himself, but there are some suggestive bloodstains.

Miguel Terila (John Carson) and his wife Eva (Clarissa Stolz) have some sort of grudge against Sanders.

Someone might want to kill Sanders for business or financial reasons but with two beautiful glamorous women mixed up in the case, both apparently Sanders’ mistresses, romantic jealousy is just as likely. The second woman is night-club chanteuse Julie Denver (Penelope Horner).

The vital clue is a secret file kept in a safety deposit box. Everyone wants that file. They are prepared to use drastic measures to get hold of it.

Reporter Simon York (Eddie Byrne) is convinced there’s a much bigger story here and he intends to uncover it.

The plot is solid enough overall but the main problem is that the major plot twist is too obvious and there’s not enough sense of urgency or real danger. These criminals are not quite desperate enough.

These Edgar Wallace thrillers were consistently good because they had fine writers and very competent directors and while they did not have huge stars the cast members were always very capable. I can’t single out any particular cast member since they’re all absolutely fine. It is always fun to see Alfred Burke in anything (he plays Simon York’s editor).

These were low-budget movies so there was no scope for spectacular visual set-pieces or lavish sets. They relied on good scripts and on the fact that they were made by professionals who knew what they were doing and who understood the genre.

The very short running times (usually just under an hour) helped as well. There was no time to waste on unnecessary subplots.

As was the case with most of the directors of these movies Norman Harrison worked mostly in television. Screenwriter Richard Harris had a distinguished career as a TV writer.

Locker Sixty Nine is included in Network’s Edgar Wallace Mysteries Volume Four DVD set. It gets, as usual, a very nice transfer.

Like all the movies in this series Locker Sixty Nine was shot widescreen in black-and-white. Locker Sixty Nine is decent entertainment.

I’ve seen and reviewed a stack of these Edgar Wallace films, including Marriage of Convenience (1960), Man at the Carlton Tower (1961) and The Sinister Man (1961). In fact I’ve reviewed a couple of dozen of these films!

Isadora Duncan, The Biggest Dancer in the World (1966)

Isadora (sometimes known under the title Isadora Duncan, the Biggest Dancer in the World) is a 1966 BBC TV-movie based on the life of the famous but tragic pioneer of modern dance, Isadora Duncan.

The TV-movie was directed by Ken Russell. You might be wondering if you’ll see traces of Russell’s later style in this early work. In fact you’ll see more than traces. This is a full-blown Ken Russell movie.

Russell co-wrote the script with Sewell Stokes, who knew Isadora in the latter part of her life.

While Isadora was funded by the BBC and was screened on the BBC in 1966 it was always intended for theatrical release as well, and it did indeed get a theatrical release. It was something of a sensation at the Cannes Film Festival. The success of Isadora made it certain that Russell would soon make the jump to directing feature films, which in fact he did in the following year.

The considerable amount of nudity certainly indicates that a theatrical release was the intention.

Isadora was made on a minuscule budget (we’re talking about the BBC here) but it was shot in 35mm and while it’s in black-and-white it feels like a feature film rather than a TV production. Russell was pulling out all the stops with the visual and it has all his trademarks.

Isadora Duncan was briefly a sensation in the world of dance. She was an apostle of dance as free expression. Her dislike of any kind of discipline carried over into her personal life.

Her star faded quickly and her wild lifestyle took its toll. She blundered from disaster to disaster.

She enjoyed a brief vogue in the 1960s, being seen as a kind of godmother to the counter-culture.

Russell resists the temptation to idealise or romanticise her. He doesn’t exactly demonise her but he makes no attempt to downplay her extraordinary self-destructiveness and egotism and spectacularly bad judgment. This was a woman set for fame, stardom and riches and it all fell apart and the disasters were all of her own doing. He also does not downplay her vulgarity or her stupidity.

Isadora did have a touch of genius, but a very limited genius. In the opening years of the 20th century her approach to dance seemed exciting and revolutionary - pure expression, unconstrained by rules or discipline. Just dance what you feel. Like all such artistic approaches it was something of a dead end. The vogue for Isadora waned, her wild lifestyle began to catch up with her, her extravagance left her dependent on wealthy lovers who eventually tired of her whims and her dramas.

After the First World War she went to Russia, feeling sure that the Bolsheviks would recognise her as a fellow revolutionary. They did not. She was soon penniless. Isadora’s politics did not go much beyond thinking that being a revolutionary was exciting and glamorous.

An affair with a drunken lecherous thieving Russian poet ruined her even further.

Tragically she ended up being remembered mostly for the bizarre circumstances of her death.

Russell tells her story as an absurdist tragi-comedy. Isadora remains oblivious to the inevitable consequences of her self-destructiveness and self-absorption.

Isadora’s rejection of rules and discipline made her, briefly, a star in the world of dance. It also doomed her to disaster in life. She was ruled by her passions and her emotions and they led her astray every time.

Vivian Pickles (a dancer herself) is superb in the title role.

Russell was not going to let a micro-budget limit his already soaring ambitions. By necessity he had to use some stock footage. He makes extraordinary use of footage from Leni Riefenstahl’s Olympia.

This does not look like a TV movie. It looks like a Ken Russell feature film.

Russell’s productions for the BBC in the 60s cannot be dismissed as mere tentative experimentations. He was already Ken Russell. He had already chosen his artistic path.

Russell was fascinated by genius but had no interest in worshipful approaches. He liked to get under the skin of the artistic geniuses about whom he made movies and he wasn’t afraid of what he might find under the surface. He also made two notable films about artistic failures - this one and Savage Messiah (1972). They’d make a fine double feature.

Isadora is a major Ken Russell film and a great one. Very highly recommended.

Red Line 7000 (1965)

Red Line 7000 is late Howard Hawks film. Made in 1965, it was his third-last movie. It’s probably his least admired movie.

Hawks wrote the original story and he produced and directed. Red Line 7000 deals with motor racing, but not with the glamorous world of Le Man or Formula 1. This is the slightly more disreputable world of NASCAR racing. This is certainly a deliberate choice by Hawks. He’s not interested in the glamour. He’s interested in what makes these men tick.

Hawks was fascinated by the idea of exploring the psychology of men who dice with death. He was particularly fascinated by men who dice with death even though they don’t have to. Not soldiers in wartime or cops driven by a sense of duty, but civilians who deliberately make this choice. They’re not doing it for a cause. They’re not doing it for the excitement. It’s more of an existential thing. They’re flirting with death, taunting death, spitting in the eyes of death. And all the time knowing that death will have the last laugh. Maybe they’re half in love with death.

Hawks was also fascinated by the women who love these men.

So the basic setup is there for a classic Howard Hawks movie. But that doesn’t seem to be what he had in mind. It seems like he was trying to make a movie aimed at a young audience. In fact it’s almost as if he tried to make a drive-in movie. There are some very definite exploitation movie elements. You have never seen so many car crashes. Every time the action moves to the racetrack you can be sure there will be crashes. Multiple crashes. Cars in flames. Cars going end over end.

This is the sort of thing a drive-in audience would love. But this was a major-studio picture distributed by Paramount and there was no way that Paramount would have had a clue how to market it.

It needed a Roger Corman to market it. It’s a movie that should have been made by AIP. Red Line 7000 was in fact shot on a very low budget. Mainstream critics were always going to hate it, and they did. Mainstream audiences would have been perplexed. Where are the big stars?

Which brings us to the cast. Hawks went for an entire cast of unknowns. The only big name is James Caan, but in 1965 he was not yet a star. Hawks presumably wanted to avoid having the movie loaded down with stars, which would have created the expectation that this was going to be a star vehicle for one or two big names. It isn’t. There’s no central character. There are eight or so important characters but the focus shifts constantly between them.

There are three drivers. Mike Marsh (James Caan) is the ice-cold professional who cares about nothing other than racing. Dan McCall (Skip Ward) had tried to break into Formula but now he’s back to NASCAR racing. Ned Arp (John Robert Crawford) is the hotshot punk, a nobody determined to be a somebody.

The first of the women is Julie (Laura Devon), the sister of the manager of the racing team. She falls for Ned Arp. The second is French girl Gabrielle (Marianna Hill). She had been Dan’s girlfriend but they’ve split up and now she has set her sights on Mike Marsh. The third is Holly (Gail Hire), who keeps falling in love with racing car drivers who keep dying on her. Now, to her horror, she has fallen in love with yet another race car driver (Dan).

The focus shifts constantly between each of the three couples and between the romantic dramas and the dramas on the racetrack.

Hawks sent his second unit director Bruce Kessler out to film actual race footage so all the racing scenes are real. And they’re spectacular.

The acting is a very mixed bag.

This movie ran into huge censorship problems over the relationship between Julie and Ned, something that now seems bizarre and inexplicable. Major cuts were made.

Quentin Tarantino is a huge fan of this movie which doesn’t surprise me. I dislike Tarantino’s own movies but as a critic he’s perceptive and stimulating. He has, rightly, championed a lot of movies from the 60s and 70s that critics at that time were incapable of understanding.

Red Line 7000 is not quite what either Howard Hawks fans or mainstream audiences and critics expected but has its own oddball charm. I’m going to give it a highly recommended rating.

I’ve reviewed other Hawks movie dealing with similar themes. The Crowd Roars (1932) and Ceiling Zero (1936) are both underrated and very much worth seeing.

Casino Royale (1967)

The 1967 Casino Royale is an object lesson in how to create a cinematic disaster.

The movie came about because Eon Productions owned the rights to all the Bond novels, apart from the first. For complicated reasons producer Charles K. Feldman owned the rights to Fleming’s first novel, Casino Royale. He knew he wanted to make it into a movie. He had no idea how to do so. He never did figure it out.

It ended up with ten writers and five directors. Five directors at the same time, each directing part of the movie.

Feldman initially thought of doing a straight Bond movie. Then he decided to make it a spoof.

David Niven had been under consideration for the role of Bond in the late 50s. Feldman persuaded him to take the role in Casino Royale. Then he decided it would be cool to have Peter Sellers play the role. So they both play Bond. So we get a crazy scheme to have lots of Bonds. Not because it was a cool or clever idea but because the movie had already become a chaotic mess with nobody have the slightest idea what they were doing and none of the people involved in the movie making any attempt to co-ordinate their wildly differing ideas.

Then Feldman started adding lots of Bond girls. There are no less than three lady super-spies, played by Deborah Kerr, Ursula Andress and Joanna Pettet. Plus we have Miss Moneypenny’s daughter (Barbara Bouchet) playing at being a lady super-spy as well.

We have two diabolical criminal masterminds, played by Orson Welles and Woody Allen, Yes, Woody Allen. Neither of these diabolical criminal masterminds has any actual master plan. That’s because the movie has no actual plot. It has no plot at all.

There were some very good spy spoof movies made during the 60s and what they all have in common is that they have actual spy movie plots. The humour comes from taking a spy movie plot and then playing it for laughs. But you need a plot. If you have an actual spy plot you can extract lots of humour from it. Without that all you have is a bunch of comedy sketches thrown together for no reason at all, which is what Casino Royale is. Which is why Casino Royale is so much less funny than the other 60s spy spoofs.

If you have a plot and you have characters you can extract more humour from the interactions between the characters, especially between the hero and the sexy lady spy and between the hero and the super-villain. Casino Royale is so overloaded with stars and characters that none of the characters is developed sufficiently to bring out their comedic potentials. The interactions are not funny because the characters are not characters, they’re just random actors speaking lines to each other for no discernible reason.

If you’re aiming for comedy it helps to have some decent gags. There’s not a single truly funny moment in this film.

This film relies on being zany, crazy, outrageous and madcap. But it manages to be zany, crazy, outrageous and madcap without actually being funny.

Then there’s the Peter Sellers factor. I have to put it on record that I have never thought Peter Sellers was funny but here he’s particularly feeble. Every single scene in which he appears would have worked better had it been played by David Niven.

There really are just too many unnecessary characters. One diabolical criminal mastermind is enough. Orson Welles could have been a very fine and very amusing tongue-in-cheek Bond Villain but he needed to be given more scope for evil plotting. Woody Allen is one villain too many and he seems to belong to a totally different movie and being a villain is not the kind of role that plays to his comic strengths. There’s probably one too many lady super-spies and they all belong in different movies.

This movie has some huge flaws but it does have a few major strengths. The cinematography, the production design and the costumes are stunning and delightfully extravagant and fun. I love the spy school that looks like it’s straight out of The Cabinet of Dr Caligari.

I love this film’s extreme artificiality. At times, visually at least, it does achieve a wonderful wild surreal comic-book feel. It looks totally amazing.

A major asset is Ursula Andress. She speaks with her own voice here. She was dubbed in her earlier movies. She has a strong accent but it makes her an even sexier lady spy. She’s enormous fun when she’s being seductive and she projects stupendous amounts of glamour. Her costumes are bizarre but magnificent.

Look out for Alexandra Bastedo and Jacqueline Bisset in bit parts (Bisset plays Miss Goodthighs).

For all its many and egregious flaws Casino Royale is worth a look if you enjoy spectacular but morbidly fascinating cinematic trainwrecks.

I’ve reviewed lots of 60s spy spoofs including Deadlier Than the Male (1967), The President’s Analyst (1967), the Matt Helm movies - Murderers’ Row (1966), Matt Helm in The Silencers (1966), The Ambushers (1967) and The Wrecking Crew (1969), the Derek Flint movies Our Man Flint (1966) and In Like Flint (1967) and the absolutely delightful Hot Enough for June (Agent 8¾, 1964). These are all examples of totally successful spy spoofs.

Casino Royale came out a year after Modesty Blaise (1966), which suffers from some of the same problems, having been made by a director, Joseph Losey, who did not have a clue what he was doing. Modesty Blaise, like Casino Royale, was aiming for a psychedelic vibe but misses the mark.

Winnetou and the Crossbreed (1966)

Winnetou and the Crossbreed (Winnetou und das Halbblut Apanatschi) is a 1966 sauerkraut western. 

The sauerkraut western is the German equivalent to the spaghetti western. The main difference is that spaghetti westerns were always aiming for an international audience. Sauerkraut westerns were aimed more at the German domestic market, tapping into the immense popularity of the genre in Germany.

That popularity was due to Karl May (1842-1912), a popular German writer who launched a pop culture phenomenon with his novels of the Wild West. His books have sold around 200 million copies and are still in print. May’s novels were written at a time when the Wild West still existed. And at the time he wrote his best-known westerns he had never been anywhere near America. He wrote about the Wild West of his own imagination. And the entire German nation went totally Wild West crazy.

The main heroes of May’s westerns were a German settler nicknamed Old Shatterhand and his best friend, the Apache chief Winnetou. May’s novels were very very sympathetic indeed to the Apaches and this is reflected in the movies.

Between 1962 and 1968 there were seventeen Karl May movies, most of them based on his westerns.

Winnetou and the Crossbreed opens with the 21st birthday of Apanatschi (Uschi Glas). Her father is a European settler, her mother is an Apache. Her father’s birthday present to her is a gold mine. This present turns out to be a very bad idea. Some very unpleasant people find out about it and they’re determined to steal the gold.

A gang of bandits and cutthroats gets involved. There is treachery among the bad guys. Apanatschi and her kid brother are kidnapped.

Fortunately somebody was smart enough to contact Old Shatterhand (Lex Barker). He’s not going to allow this kind of wickedness to go on. And if Old Shatterhand comes to the rescue he’ll have Winnetou beside him.

It ends up in a full-scale war between the good guys and the bad guys, with lots of gunplay and lots of explosions.

The bad guys are holed up in a little town that is almost completely lawless. People are constantly getting shot. Within a few minutes we get every single western cliché you can name. At times it’s almost like parody. It’s a bit like Blazing Saddles, but played straight.

Of course there’s a classic western saloon and there are saloon girls. They’re quite obviously whores, but interestingly they’re very much on the side of the Good Guys.

What’s fascinating is that this movie gives the impression of having been made by people who hadn’t seen any of the great grown-up psychologically complex westerns of the golden age of westerns (from about 1946 to 1962). It’s as if their idea of a western was drawn entirely from the B-westerns of the 1930s. In this movie there are very straightforward Good Guys and Bad Guys.

This is a movie totally imbued with the sensibility of 1960s German pop cinema. Just as the German Edgar Wallace krimis are supposedly set in England but get every single detail delightfully wrong so this movie gets everything about the Wild West delightfully wrong. And as with the Edgar Wallace krimis it’s the fact that everything is slightly wrong that gives this movie such a wonderfully delirious and crazy flavour.

And it really does have that B-movie feel - it’s just pure entertainment packed with action and thrills.

Pierre Brice (a Frenchman) does the noble Apache warrior thing quite well. Lex Barker makes a fine hero. Uschi Glas as Apanatschi is a fine heroine - she’s lively and likeable and she’s as cute as a button. All the bad guys are played with gusto.

Winnetou and the Crossbreed is nothing like a spaghetti western. The violence is never graphic and there’s not a trace of cynicism. It’s family entertainment but it is fun and it’s recommended.

The Treasure of the Silver Lake and Winnetou and the Crossbreed are both included in a German three-movie DVD which offers the movies in both English-dubbed versions and in German with English subtitles. I recommend the German-language version because it gives more of a non-Hollywood feel.

I’ve reviewed the first of Karl May’s Wild West novels, Winnetou I, and I cannot recommend it, except for its considerable historical significance. It’s slow and dull. I’ve also reviewed the first of the Karl May movies, The Treasure of the Silver Lake (1962), and it’s a rollicking tale of adventure in the Old West and it’s huge amounts of fun.

The Pleasure Girls (1965)

The Pleasure Girls is a 1965 Gerry O’Hara movie and if you’re familiar with his work you’ll be guessing that these girls are not going to be getting much pleasure. In the world of Gerry O’Hara’s movies looking for pleasure (or fun or emotional fulfilment) just leads to misery so the smart thing to do is to throw yourself under a bus at the first opportunity.

This movie is an interesting antidote to the popular image of Swinging London. Swinging London was great for a tiny minority of people in the worlds of entertainment, art and fashion but for most people it was the same old grind. A desperate struggle against poverty and despair. If you tried to get ahead you’d just get knocked down and as for sex, forget it. That leads inevitably to ruin.

This was an era in which politicians and the media were constantly fretting over the evils of the “permissive society” which was about to engulf Britain in a tidal wave of immorality.

With this movie you have to bear in mind that it reflected the sexual mores of most of society at that time. Unmarried sex was something that pop stars and people on the Continent did. Nice English people didn’t do such things. The very word pleasure was a sign of behaviour of which respectable people disapproved. The Sexual Revolution had not yet filtered down to the masses.

The Pleasure Girls is centred on a group of girls living in a block of flats in London. Sally (Francesca Annis) has just arrived in London from the country, hoping to make a career for herself as a model while guarding her virginity like the Crown Jewels. She meets Keith (Ian McShane), a cheerfully irresponsible sort but basically pretty nice.

Keith would like to sleep with her but she wants him to wait, just for a little while. Just until her career is established and they have enough money to get married. It will probably only be five or six years. Surely if he loves her he won’t mind waiting such a short time.

Sally is a good girl.

Marion (Rosemary Nicols) lives with Prinny (Mark Eden) in the flat below. They’re not married so we figure Marion has some suffering in store for her. Once we get to know Prinny we’re even more sure of that - he’s a loser, a hopeless gambler and a louse. But he’s charming and Marion loves him. We have some doubts as to whether Marion is a good girl.

We have doubts about Dee (Suzanna Leigh) as well. She’s having an affair with a married man, Nikko (Klaus Kinski). She seems nice, but we suspect she might be in line for some suffering as well.

One problem with this movie is that there are too many characters which makes things a bit unfocused. Some of these characters seem like they might be important but they end up playing no significant part in the story. A bit more emphasis on the central characters would have allowed for their personalities to be a bit more fleshed out. The narrative drive is also a little weak.

Nikko is actually the most interesting character. He’s a successful hard-driving businessman whose ethical standards are loose to say the least. We assume he’s being set up as the villain of the piece but as we get to know him we discover that his business ruthlessness doesn’t reflect his true character. He doesn’t mistreat Dee. In fact he’s affectionate and gentle with her and he has a generous side. He’s really quite a nice guy.

Francesca Annis gives a solid performance but it’s a somewhat thankless part. Sally really is rather prim. Anneke Wills is charming (as she would be later in her starring role in the excellent offbeat TV series The Strange Report) in a part that doesn’t really go anywhere.

Rosemary Nicols is the standout performer among the women. In the same year this movie was released she landed the lead role in the excellent and very underrated sci-fi TV series Undermind although she is of course best known as one of the three leads in the wonderful 1969-70 Department S TV series. She manages to give Marion some real substance. At times we despair at the choices she makes but we understand those choices.

Klaus Kinski gives a very restrained performance. Yes, you read that right. Kinski giving a restrained performance. But it’s quite effective. He is able to persuade us that there’s more to Nikko than outward appearances would suggest.

Ian McShane is fine as Keith although there’s not a great deal of depth to the character.

This one is mostly worth watching for the fine performances by Rosemary Nicols and Klaus Kinski. It’s definitely an intriguing time capsule of Swinging London without the glamour. It’s worth a look.

Of the three Gerry O’Hara movies I’ve seen this is the least depressing. It’s not exactly upbeat but the sense of doom isn’t quite so relentless. Worth a look if only as a time capsule.

The BFI have released this movie in one of their Blu-Ray/DVD combo packs. The transfer is very satisfactory.

Other British movies of this era that are interesting for their bleak view of sex are All the Right Noises (1970), That Kind of Girl (1963),
Baby Love (1969), Her Private Hell (1968) and Permissive (1970).

Fate is the Hunter (1964)

Fate is the Hunter, released in 1964, is a kind of aviation disaster movie (a favourite genre of mine) and also a kind of mystery. And fate may or may not be a crucial factor.

An airliner crashes a few minutes after taking off from Los Angeles. 53 passengers and crew are killed. Due to a couple of unexpected misfortunes the cause of the crash is not easy to determine. The aircraft’s flight recorder was destroyed. There are audio tapes of messages passed between the doomed airliner and ground control but the messages end at a vital moment, apparently due to a radio failure. The evidence, such as it is, is ambiguous.

The airline’s flight director, Sam McBane (Glenn Ford), believes that the pilot is, quite unfairly, going to be blamed.

There is evidence that one of the aircraft’s two engines exploded. That evidence is strong but not absolute. There is some evidence that the second engine failed as well but the evidence for that is more shaky.

So much of the evidence is not merely ambiguous but puzzling. The second engine was later found to be entirely undamaged but a survivor insists that both cockpit warning lights were on, indicating failure of both engines. That survivor is one of the stewardesses, Martha Webster (Suzanne Pleshette). Martha is a sensible young woman. She is an experienced stewardess and is therefore perfectly well aware of the meaning of the cockpit warning lights. As a stewardess she has been trained to keep her head in a crisis. She did not suffer any head injuries. There is no reason to think that she was likely to be confused or in a panic. Sam is very much inclined to believe her story even though it conflicts with other evidence.

This was 1964, a time when flying was still glamorous and exciting. ln those happy days airliners had no flight attendants. They had stewardesses. The stewardesses were pretty, because having pretty airline stewardesses made flying seem more glamorous. They were well-trained and extremely competent. They just happened to be pretty as well. It is clear that Martha Webster is very good at her job and very professional.

The worrying thing is the suggestion that the pilot, Jack Savage (Rod Taylor), may have been drinking shortly before the flight. Sam does not believe this could have been the case. On the other hand we have to take into account Sam’s fierce loyalty to his pilots, and the fact that he and the pilot were old friends. He had been Jack’s co-pilot during the war. To complicate things, Sam’s attitude towards Jack is a bit ambivalent - a mixture of hero-worship and disapproval. Sam considers Jack to have been an outstanding pilot, but perhaps less outstanding as a man.

This movie was made at a fascinating time in Hollywood history. The Production Code was crumbling rapidly. The studios were tentatively experimenting with a radical new concept - making movies that took a grown-up attitude towards sex. Jack’s sex life becomes an important plot point. He sees to have shared his bed with a succession of attractive young ladies. If a decision is made to cast Jack as the scapegoat the newspapers will certainly suggest that he was a man of dubious sexual morals, and they are likely to suggest that a man with such a deplorable lack of sexual self-restraint might have a similar lack of self-restraint when it comes to booze.

It is possible that Jack will be judged not on his skills as a pilot but on his morals. And it is obvious that the press is gunning for Jack.

Glenn Ford is in fine form as a decent man who might possibly be allowing his personal feelings to interfere with his judgment. Ford could play tortured characters extremely well without resorting to Method acting histrionics. The underrated Rod Taylor is also excellent as another man who might have been wrestling with some inner demons. These are the two performances that matter.

Suzanne Pleshette is very solid, and Nancy Kwan and Constance Towers are very good as two of Jack’s girlfriends. It’s fun to see Jane Russell doing a cameo as herself. It’s also fun that her garters are important pieces of evidence!

There are a lot of flashbacks which give us insights into the personalities of both Jack and Sam.

This is a movie that plays fair with the viewer. A sufficiently alert viewer can certainly solve the mystery before Sam does (I did).

This movie was based on a novel by Ernest K. Gann who also wrote the source novels for two of the best aviation disaster thriller movies ever made, The High and the Mighty (1954) and Island in the Sky (1953).

Fate is the Hunter is both a fine aviation thriller and a decent puzzle movie. Highly recommended.

I have the Spanish Blu-Ray which offers a superb transfer and includes both Spanish and English language versions (the latter with removable Spanish subtitles). I can recommend this Blu-Ray without any reservations.

Twisted Nerve (1968)

Twisted Nerve is a 1968 British suspense thriller starring Hayley Mills, although it’s a bit more than just a straightforward suspense film.

Martin Durnley (Hywel Bennett) is a slightly odd young man. His brother Georgie had to be put away in a home. Georgie suffers from a genetic abnormality. He still has the mind of a toddler.

There are perhaps a number of reasons for Martin’s oddness. His father died, his mother remarried, and he hates and despises his stepfather. The family is extremely rich, so Martin has always been coddled and spoilt and the family money has always come to his rescue when he gets into scrapes. It’s also possible that he has suffered from anxiety, fearing he might be abnormal in some way as well. HIs mother has always feared that might be the case - perhaps her anxieties have rubbed off on Martin. Martin is in fact rather intelligent, but he’s irresponsible, difficult, rebellious and trouble-prone.

Quite by accident he encounters a very pretty very charming young woman, Susan Harper (Hayley Mills), in a toy shop. Martin steals a very cheap toy and is caught. He pretends to be simple-minded and pretends that his name is Georgie. In fact he has in a way adopted his brother’s identity. It works. The store manager is sympathetic and Susan feels sorry for him that she pays for the stolen toy. Martin has no difficulty in fooling people into thinking that he has the mind of a five-year-old.

Martin starts following Susan. He meets her again. Susan lives in a slightly unusual household as well - she lives with her mother Joan (Billie Whitelaw), a young Indian medical student who is the lodger, and also Joan Harper’s live-in lover Gerry Henderson (Barry Foster).

Martin turns up on the doorstep, in the pouring rain, more child-like than ever and apparently with nowhere to go. Susan insists that he be allowed to stay. So he moves in.

This is where the movie gets interesting, with all sorts of disturbing sexual tensions. Both Susan and her mother Joan think Martin has the mind of a small child but they also cannot help noticing that physically he is a very attractive young man with a rather nice body. Susan isn’t at all sure how she feels. Martin does get a bit physically affectionate at times. Joan is definitely sexually attracted to him, which of course makes her rather confused and uneasy.

We know this is not going to end well. What makes it more interesting is that we really don’t know at first just how genuinely child-like Martin is. Intellectually, in some ways, he’s an adult. Physically he’s an adult. We always have to keep in mind the complexity of the characterisation. Martin is pretending to be child-like both intellectually and emotionally but he really is child-like emotionally.

It’s obvious that his mother has never wanted him to grow up, and it’s obvious that he has discovered certain advantages in not growing up. He can get away with being irresponsible. He can behave like a naughty small boy (as he does when he steals the cheap toy) and get away with it. He can remain in many ways a spoilt little boy.

It’s very clear that this has had consequences for his sexual development. He has never learnt to deal with women on adult level. He has never even got as far as dealing with girls on the level of an awkward teenager. He deals with females on the level of a small child but he is physically mature and has normal male sexual urges. It’s obvious that he regards sex with guilt, shame and fear.

He is not only probably a virgin - he appears to have major guilt, shame and fear in regard to any kind of sexual arousal, so he cannot even satisfy his sexual urges through self-pleasuring. The early scene with the mirror, and the final scene with another mirror, make it obvious that a soon as he becomes sexually aroused the guilt, shame and fear kick in and he can go no further. He has at least two opportunities for sex in the movie and in both cases he cannot go through with it.

As a result he feels inadequate, which accounts for his odd fixation on Tarzan and on bodybuilding. They’re wish-fulfilment fantasies of normal masculinity.

The writing credits include two very notable names. Roger Marshall was one of the greatest of all British television writers, the man who created the best TV private eye series ever made, Public Eye. Leo Marks wrote the notorious (and superb) Peeping Tom and there are definite similarities between Peeping Tom and Twisted Nerve. The experienced and reliable Roy Boulting directed.

This was an incredibly fascinating era in British cinema. British censorship in the 60s was draconian. This started to relax right at the end of the decade. By the late 60s British filmmakers were increasingly restive under these restrictions. They wanted to make grown-up movies, and they wanted to deal with love, sex and human relationships honesty and openly. This led to a spate of fascinating movies including All the Right Noises (1970), Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush (1968), Baby Love (1969) and the superb I Start Counting (1969). And although it’s usually dismissed as a sex comedy I would add Pete Walker’s excellent Cool It, Carol! (1970) to the list.

It was also a time of media frenzy about the “permissive society” which led to interesting if depressing movies such as Her Private Hell (1968) and Permissive (1970).

Twisted Nerve is a very dark extremely well-executed suspense thriller with a nicely subtle sense of creeping menace. Highly recommended.

Umbrella’s Blu-Ray offers a lovely transfer with a number of extras.

Judex (1963)

Georges Franju’s Judex, released in 1963, is based on Louis Feuillade’s famous and influential 1916 serial of the same name. Judex is a mysterious vigilante crime-fighter. 

Franju made the decision to keep to a period setting. It was a good decision. There is a hint that the movie in fact takes place in 1914. He also decided to shoot the movie in black-and-white. The intention was clearly to capture both the tone and the look of the original serial.

The movie starts slowly so you have to be a bit patient at first. Then we get to the masked ball scene, with all the bird masks. It’s a bit creepy and disturbing and the way it’s filmed makes it feel more odd. This is where the movie starts to get interesting.

The story begins with rich banker Favraux (Michel Vitold) receiving a letter from the mysterious Judex. Favraux is to give half his fortune to his victims by midnight or face the consequences. Favraux’s fortune has been amassed by decidedly dishonest means.

Favraux also has quite a bit of blood on his hands.

Judex means to bring Favraux to justice and he obviously intends this justice to be swift and final, without the tiresome necessity to involve the proper authorities. Judex is however a just man and he is determined that no harm should come to the banker’s daughter Jacqueline (Edith Scob). She has given proof of her honesty and virtue. Jacqueline has a little girl.

Favraux has been pursuing the little girl’s governess, Marie Verdier (Francine Bergé). He wants her to be his mistress. If necessary he will even marry her.

Having Judex coming after him is bad enough but Favraux has other problems although he isn’t yet aware of them. Judex is not the only one targeting him. There are others, and they are targeting him for other reasons.

As the movie progresses the plot gradually becomes more outrageous and more reliant on coincidence and just generally much more fun, and much more in the spirit of the original serial. There are all the plot devices you could ask for. There are secret passageways, kidnappings, hidden cameras, people being drugged, narrow escapes, and rooftop chases.

Also involved is private detective Cocantrin (Jacques Jouanneau). At first we assume he’s going to be a stereotypical bumbling private eye but he turns out to be at least moderately competent.

Initially I felt that Channing Pollock was perhaps a little bit bland as Judex but I’m inclined to think that may have been deliberate. Judex is after all an enigma. Interestingly Channing Pollock was a very successful stage magician before trying his hand at acting. He gets to do some magic tricks here. I would still have preferred a hero with a bit more charisma.

It’s the women who stand out. Edith Scob brings a fragile beauty to the role of the virtuous heroine Jacqueline ad she’s likeable.

Sylva Koscina is a delight (and looks totally gorgeous) as Cocantrin’s circus acrobat friend Daisy.

But what a movie like this really needs is a fine sexy bad girl. And Francine Bergé as Marie Verdier delivers the goods in great style. She gets to wear a variety of rather wonderful costumes and even disguises herself as a disturbingly sexy nun. She totally dominates the movie. We’re shocked by her wickedness but we love her for it. All the world loves a bad girl.

It’s amusing to see one of the characters reading one of the Fantômas novels of Marcel Allain and Pierre Souvestre, Fantômas being the great French pulp fiction arch-criminal. Louis Feuillade made three ground-breaking serials between 1913 - Fantômas, Les Vampires and Judex.

On the whole this is enjoyable stuff although perhaps it needed just a tad more energy, and a tad more visual flamboyance. It’s the wonderful villainess who is by far the film’s biggest asset. Recommended, and Francine Bergé is enough to promote it to the highly recommended category.

The Criterion DVD looks good once you manage to remove it from its case, a task that is easily accomplished with the aid of a crowbar and gelignite.

To Have and to Hold (1963)

To Have and to Hold is a 1963 entry in the Merton Park cycle of British Edgar Wallace B-movies. This one was scripted by Jimmy Sangster and directed by Herbert Wise.

Sergeant Fraser (Ray Barrett) is an ordinary cop, a detective. He’s given a very easy job to do - to convince a woman that her ex is not really intending to murder her. But Claudia (Katharine Blake) sounds so convincing and she’s clearly genuinely frightened. Fraser allows her to persuade him to stay for dinner. They agree to meet for lunch the next day.

Fraser hasn’t done anything seriously wrong but taking the risk of becoming personally involved in a case like this is perhaps a little unwise.

Fraser had no intention of getting personally involved at all but sometimes a man meets a woman and he just gets drawn into things. He’s not even sure why Claudia fascinates him. She is charming but perhaps it’s something else. Perhaps its’s just a natural masculine reaction - a frightened woman who may be in danger and he starts to feel protective.

The involvement proves to have been very unwise. This was not such a trivial routine matter after all. And Fraser is in the middle of it and his life is getting just a bit out of control.

Then the plot twists start to kick in. Fraser is really in a muddle now. He thinks he knows what is going on but he is personally involved and he could be totally wrong.

His boss, Detective Inspector Roberts (William Hartnell), isn’t overly pleased with him. Roberts believes Fraser is a good cop and he doesn’t want to see the younger man doing anything to wreck his career.

Fraser also has Lucy (Patricia Bredin) to consider. Lucy is his girlfriend, or was his girlfriend and maybe still is.

Jimmy Sangster was always a reliable writer and he’s come up with a very solid screenplay here. Herbert Wise was already an experienced television director and while the low budgets on these Edgar Wallace movies didn’t allow much scope for doing anything fancy he shows himself to be perfectly competent.

Australian actor Ray Barrett was always worth watching and he gives an effective low-key performance here, doing just enough to let us know that Fraser is confused and upset and that his judgment might not be as sound as usual.

Katharine Blake is fine as the woman.

William Hartnell is as always a delight. His inspector is not quite the usual crusty bad-tempered old cop with a heart of gold. Right from the start his attitude towards Fraser is more that of an indulgent uncle. Barrett and Hartnell are terrific in their scenes together.

The one weakness is that the script glosses over a couple of points and that ends up stretching credibility just a little. I found myself mystified that these things were left hanging.

On the whole though it’s enjoyable and nicely twisted.

As usual it’s widescreen black-and-white, a format of which I’m quite fond.

This is included in Network’s Edgar Wallace Collection Volume 5 DVD boxed set. And as usual the transfer is excellent.