More Of The Many Moods Of Jason King

More Of The Many Moods Of Jason King

The Most Shocking Story Of The Century!

‘10 Rillington Place’ is a horrible film, as it should be: it deals with horrible things. Grimly documenting the squalid murders of John Reginald Christie, it achieves an almost documentary quality. It isn’t easy to watch, although it’s harder to turn away.

Richard Attenborough plays Christie as a whispering, wheedling, pathetic non-person who is only defined by his willingness to cause pain, to take life. I’m not a huge fan of Sir Dickie, but his performance here is extraordinary, not least because it is so enormously unsympathetic. There is nothing remotely likeable or even pitiable about Christie, and his murders, fuelled by rage and sexual aberration, are unforgiveable, especially as they led to the execution of an innocent man, Timothy Evans, played with heart-breaking incomprehension by John Hurt.

Whenever I think of Christie, I feel as if I want to wash my hands, and the film perfectly evokes the sleazy horror of his life and crimes, from the degraded, slum like conditions in which his crimes were perpetrated*, the mean, desperate lives of his victims and their awful post-mortem fate, shoved under floorboards and into cupboards to moulder away – and all of it conducted in the shadow of the noose – the eye for an eye which demeans any society that sanctions it.

I haven’t always been anti-death penalty, by the way. When I was younger it seemed a perfectly sensible solution to the problem. Then I saw this film.

*The film was made on location, but at number 7 as the tenants of 10 didn’t want to move out. In a way, I’m relieved – the film is macabre enough as it is. The whole street was demolished soon afterwards.

10 Rillington Place

More Of The Many Moods Of Jason King



Random Quest

‘Quest For Love’ starts off in a blur of 1971 type activity, all polo necks, suede jackets, casual racism and sexism and Denholm Elliot wearing a massive lopsided suit jacket to convince us he only has one arm. In a matter of minutes, bony physicist Tom Bell has had a mishap in the lab and been transported to a parallel timeline. It’s 1971 here, too, but little things are different: the economy is booming because World War Two never happened, Denholm Elliot has two arms, and Tom is a best selling author who is unhappily married to Joan Collins.

Of course, Tom is still a bony physicist in his own head, he has just apparently swapped places with an alternate self who is, presumably, out in the other 1971 fucking experiments up. Our Tom realises several things about the man he is supposed to be, not least the fact that he is a vain, selfish dickhead who treats his wife like rubbish. Our Tom loves her, however, and spends most of his time trying to convince her he is different. As soon as he does, and they fall in love, she dies, and the trauma projects him back to his own timeline. Realising that there must be a Joan equivalent in this 1971 as well, perhaps with the same heart complaint the other Joan had, he tries desperately to find her and save her - and get off with her – the quest for love of the title (although this bit only lasts about ten minutes).

If you forget all the quantum stuff and Denholm Elliot’s big, skewiff jacket, ‘Quest For Love’ is an entertaining film that reminds me a little of some of the more outré US soap operas (the ones with evil twins and flashbacks within flashbacks within comas). It’s particularly good in making two of the most unsympathetic leads of all time seem almost lovable: Tom Bell, who despite slightly resembling my Dad, is usually a sinister, sardonic presence and Joan Collins who is undeniably very attractive in physical terms, but always seems like a MASSIVE pain in the arse in almost every other respect.

A surprisingly commercial mix of sci fi and love story, ‘Quest For Love’ was based on a John Wyndham story called ‘Random Quest’, and was a non-portmanteau product of the wonderful Amicus studios. Watch it, you’ll enjoy it. 

Quest For Love

See Tom Run

More Of The Many Moods Of Jason King

More Of The Many Moods Of Jason King

More Of The Many Moods Of Jason King

More Of The Many Moods Of Jason King

Fiendish Daughter

London, 1888: a syphilitic nutter in a top hat is on the run from an angry mob. He ducks into a house, evidently his own, viciously murders his wife / girlfriend with a big knife and then bids a fond farewell to his two year old daughter (who has witnessed the whole thing), kissing her goodbye before putting her back in her cot and making his escape. Blimey, you think, I bet this primal scene will have a psychological impact on the toddler, I expect she’ll grow up all wrong. She does, dear reader, she does.

‘Hands of the Ripper’ is an interesting film which combines elements of the classic Hammer Gothic style with the psychological b-movies the studio used to do so well. Baby faced Angharad Rees plays the grown up wrong girl, the daughter of, yes, Jack the Ripper, who, under certain conditions (a glint of light, a drop of blood, a kiss on the cheek) flips out and starts stabbing people with whatever she has to hand. Much murder and Kensington Gore follows.

A well-made, fast moving film, it’s thoughtful and intelligent for something so savage and extravagantly bloody and is embued with a tragic fatalism. Something of an unsung minor classic, 'Hands Of The Ripper' is certainly one of the more interesting diversions on the twisting, turning journey Hammer found itself on in the early seventies as they tried desperately to stay in business, and is more than worthy of your attention.

Hands Of The Ripper

Sexual Transformation

Brian Clemens is one of the most prolific and talented writers, producers and directors the British TV and film industry has ever been privileged to have*. In 1971, a couple of years after the end of the phenomenally successful ‘The Avengers’, Clemens and producer partner Albert Fennell came to Hammer to make ‘Dr. Jekyll & Sister Hyde’, ‘re-imagining’ (God, I hate that word, especially if it’s prefixed with ‘Tim Burton’) the familiar Robert Louis Stevenson story to include a novel twist: Dr. J doesn’t turn into a monster, he turns into a woman; a woman who looks like Martine Beswick and doesn’t mind flashing the flesh a bit.

Around this simple but brilliant central idea, elements of Jack the Ripper and the Burke and Hare story get chucked in, all wildly inaccurate and out of order in terms of time and place but hugely enjoyable, nonetheless. Clemens and Fennel bring a comic book sensibility to the film, a quick, flashy, funny approach which is broad in terms of brush strokes, always tongue in cheek but lots of fun. They don’t stint on the violence and nudity, either, so they clearly had a very clear idea on what audiences expected at the time. It’s all very 1971, if you know what I mean.

This was not the start of a regular gig for Clemens and Fennell, however, although their example seemed to inspire the next tranche of Hammer releases, which were noticeably less ponderous, cheaper looking but  knowing and humourous.

Clemens would return for the rip roaring ‘Captain Kronos, Vampire Hunter’, another film that should have sparked any number of sequels. The history of Hammer is littered with tantalising possibilities and thwarted opportunities, which is not to say that their output is any way disappointing. The fact is, if Hammer had made a thousand films, I would want to see every single one. I love them.

* Just in case you were wondering about Bri’s credentials, here is a partial list of things that he wrote or created or simply worked on: Dangerman; The Avengers; Adam Adamant Lives!; The Persuaders; The Protectors; The New Avengers; Thriller; Hammer House of Mystery & Suspense and, gawd help us, The Professionals. Does that answer your question?

Dr Jekyll and Sister Hyde