Dollar

Just a year before Ingrid Bergman broke into Hollywood with their remake of Intermezzo, she was still busy exploring portrayals of various characters within the context of the Swedish film industry.  Dollar was made in 1938 and focuses on the exploits of a group of people, their relationships with spouses (both their own and those attached to the other members of the group...), and ultimately a trip they all take to a ski resort where they argue, cavort, a debate who has paid off the gambling debts of one of their posse.  It's not easy to identify exactly what this film is about as it appears to be heading off in all sorts of directions at times so any enjoyment is really derived from the entanglement of relationships and the bitchy remarks that often emanate from this kerfuffle.  Ingrid plays a cheeky, energetic, teasing coquette with wonderful panache, her behavioural nuances an absolute joy to behold.  The dialogue is mostly Swedish but there is some English usage at various points throughout, and it's quite a treat to see Bergman using some of the latter in her pre-Hollywood days.

As with Walpurgis Night this film featured in a season of Bergman's early Swedish films broadcast on BBC in 1996, many of which I taped.  Dollar looks good in fullscreen B&W, with its original language track intact.  Director Gustaf Molander made a number of films with Ingrid Bergman, including this one, and began a long directorial career in 1920 with Bodakungen (AKA Tyranny of Hate).

Walpurgis Night

Before Ingrid Bergman traversed to Hollywood to make loads of movies that people know her for nowadays, she starred in a few homegrown dramas that are nigh on impossible to see nowadays.  One of these was Valborgsmässoafton or the more pronounceable Walpurgis Night to English speakers.  Devoid of easy categorisation, this 1935 B&W piece doesn't seem to want to pin itself down, with romance, drama, social politics, blackmail and murder all finding their way into the story.  Less interesting scenes of newsroom conversations (primarily about population growth, the diminishing role of love in relationships - all relevant subjects today) make up the backdrop of a story about a man (Lars Hanson) whose marriage is deteriorating, and his blooming affection for the secretary (Bergman).  She has decided that she loves him but is somewhat more determined to keep it a secret given the man's official marital status.  Her father (the editor in the aforementioned newsroom) latches on to what's going on and is not at all happy about, doing whatever he can to prevent a relationship developing.  The irony being that his daughter represents the very things he argues in favour of during the newsroom debates: someone who wants to build a relationship (subsequently producing a child) with the foundation of real love.  An uneven film, Valborgsmässoafton covers many topics that are still valid.  Best aspect, Bergman is a pleasure to watch, and it's quite beautiful to see her speaking her native tongue.

Thankfully I taped this on BBC Television in the 90s during the only broadcast that I knew of, and have kept the tape to this day.  Fullscreen of course, as shot, it plays in Swedish with English subtitles.  It's a shame that Criterion, Eureka, of BFI don't unearth a few of these for Blu-ray, as I think they're just as significant as many of the French and Japanese films that often get put out.

New Stuff: Strangler of Blackmore Castle

Picked up on US import the German produced 'krimi' film The Strangler at Blackmoor Castle, a fairly literal translation of the film's original title, Der Würger von Schloß Blackmoor.  It was made in 1963 and features sexy one time Bond-girl-to-be Karin Dor, who lives in a castle that has attracted the attention of a black-gloved killer who's interested in acquiring some diamonds that he knows are hidden somewhere.  It's kind of clunky, peppered throughout with odd stabs of German humour, which occasionally work in their idiosyncratic naivety.  Castle location is brilliant, and the Scooby Doo-esque unmasking of the killer is a bit of a cracker.  Also the distinctive music score by Oskar Sala is a real highlight - unfortunately he didn't do much else outside of TV projects and shorts.

Released on DVD by Alpha Video, the fullscreen B&W transfer is reasonable for them, but ugly in any kind of wider context, while the English dub track is merely functional.  What's worst is the fact that it's cropped (probably from 1.66:1), frequently transforming talking actors into disembodied voices.  The film's okay but I would welcome the chance to watch it one day in German language with a decent widescreen transfer.  I bought this disc because it was the only viable way to see the movie, but Alpha Video wouldn't know how to treat a film properly if a restoration course slapped them round the face.  There are no extras of course (unless you count still images of other releases by Alpha).  Strangely, many of Alpha's DVD covers are very nicely designed, with fundamentally sound understanding of colour use, this one being no exception.

New Stuff: Tetsuo

Have just picked up the recently released Blu-ray of Tetsuo and its sequel from Third Window Films.  The films are not for the conventionally weaned crowd, they're insane splatter epics about humans fusing with machines and the consequential evolutionary routes they undertake towards prospective world domination.  I prefer the first one in terms of sheer raw intensity, however, the second one is more accomplished in its realisation of the uncompromising visuals.

Shot in 16mm, the first film (Iron Man) is black and white, the second (Body Hammer) in colour, both fullscreen (OAR) and presented in 1080p transfers supervised by writer/director Shinya Tsukamoto.  Don't expect beauty,  rather these are faithful representations of what's on the negatives.  They look appropriately rough in many respects, with the former a little on the slicker side.  Advances over DVD in terms of detail are probably quite limited, but I prefer what's here for better edge delineation, reduced artefacts, etc.  It feels like you're projecting the original elements on to your wall and that's very satisfying.  The two main films, Iron Man and Body Hammer are on one Blu-ray Disc, both in Japanese (stereo, DTS-HD) with optional English subtitles.  A second disc (DVD) contains a 19 minute interview with Tsukamoto, some trailers, and best of all the director's little seen 45 minute film Denchu Kozo No Boken plus a background featurette on the same.

The two discs are packed in a standard Blu-ray case, the cover of which is reversible for different artwork choices.  That all comes in an outer cardboard slipcase.  This is a stunning, essential release from Third Window, aimed directly at the collector of unusual horror material and Eastern cinema fans.

The Fly

1986, US / Canada, Directed by David Cronenberg
Colour, Running Time: 96 minutes
Review Source: Blu-ray, Region B, Fox; Video: 1.85:1 1080p 24fps, Audio: DTS HD MA

Is there anyone that hasn't seen David Cronenberg's The Fly remake? In an age where remakes have swamped the cinema release schedules over the last ten years or so, this film is an overwhelming demonstration of what can be done with someone else's previously filmed material. Taking the core story of the Vincent Price 1958 original, the 1986 version of The Fly is brought up to date for the (then) modern era in terms of technology, science, and sheer gruesomeness. It's the story of a scientist who has cracked the teleportation problem, and in testing the machine (two pods, whereby the molecules of the one are disintegrated and reintegrated into the second) he goes through unknowingly at the same time as a house fly that has unfortunately landed in the pod prior to the teleportation. The computer confuses the two organisms and effectively splices them together at a genetic level, thus beginning a progressive transformation of the man into a horrific amalgamation of the two. What sets Cronenberg's story apart from the average monster movie, partially, is a particularly strong emotional foundation. Brundle's degeneration into disgusting monstrosity, the product of his own relentless curiosity and drive to push science forward, is ultimately tragic and believable. There are five stars of this film in my opinion - firstly, David Cronenberg of course, who continued his exploration of mutations of the human body on a thematic level, in the process creating one of the greatest remakes in cinema history. Then there is possibly the most talented composer in the film (and probably non-film) world, Howard Shore, whose score pounds home Cronenberg's themes at key points, building momentum to the devastating climax. The next two are Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis, whose performances bring all of this together in a gripping fashion. Finally, there is Chris Walas' awe-inspiring creature effects, which are still repulsive to this day. There are a couple of moments that seem to be there purely for shock value more than anything else but the result of Brundle's dabbling is like a nasty car crash - you kind of can't take your eyes of it despite the fact that it's not at all nice to look at. The stilted dialogue of the early scenes is not to be off-putting - the film develops itself into a classic of the horror/science fiction hybrid (appropriately) genre.

I've seen this film on most home video formats and have more recently picked up the Blu-ray Disc, promptly selling the DVD. Video cassettes of this film looked awful - very muddy and indistinct. DVD was noticeably better, but the film's rough look has made it difficult to translate to the lower resolution of VHS and DVD. The Blu-ray is significantly improved - in lighter scenes the detail is very strong, colours are far more realistic, and the contrast is better balanced. Darker scenes still look quite rough, but it's probably easier to see exactly what's going on now. There are details on the creature effects that I'm sure I never saw before on DVD. Overall, it's definitely worth upgrading to the Blu-ray for full HD image quality alone. The audio track is serviced by a lossless DTS-HD surround track - most of the sound comes from the front, particularly centre, channels, but the music is embellished with the greater resolution and very welcome impact. It is limited by 80s recording technology and that's never going to change, but it sounds better here than it ever has. On the disc you also get the extras of one of the former DVD special editions (the set I originally bought had The Fly II on an extra disc, but of course that isn't included here). That includes director commentary, documentary, deleted scenes, and loads more. For fans of the film, you have to pick up this very strong Blu-ray and ditch your old DVD/laserdisc/VHS as soon as possible.

Night of the Devils

1972, Italy/Spain, Directed by Giorgio Ferroni
Colour, Running Time: 93 minutes
Review Source: Blu-ray, Region A, Raro Video; Video: 2.39:1 1080p 24fps, Audio: DTS HD-MA Mono

This once very obscure Italian/Spanish film (titled at source as La Notte dei Diavoli) is based on the 'wurdulak' legend - a vampiric creature originating, I believe, from either European or Russian mythology, who returns from the grave to sacrifice loved ones, bringing them into the netherworld, in order to combat the loneliness of limbo death. In the film a man (driven insane, Lovecraft-style, and recalling the tale in flashback) crashes his car when he believes he sees an elderly woman crossing the vehicle's path, someone who is nowhere to be seen when he emerges from the damaged motor. Wandering off in search of help that can't initially be found he discovers a local man who, after an amiable discussion, offers to let him stay at his house for the night. There he finds a family in the midst of perpetual fear as each evening a recently deceased family member returns to the building to summon them. The dead person seeks company in its lonely ethereal world paradoxically by killing those loved during life, and our protagonist finds himself apparently unable to escape this increasingly threatening and supernaturally plagued environment.

Bearing strong similarities to the vampire legend (along with elements of zombie lore), the myths of the wurdulak have largely been ignored in cinema (arguably a missed opportunity, as there is a tragic richness to the concept), with one prior notable exception: Mario Bava's classic Black Sabbath (I Tre Volti Della Paura), where the tale occupied one third of the anthology structure (with Boris Karloff). Very effectively and artistically shot was the Bava film, unsurprisingly for anyone who's seen any of his other work, and Night of the Devils, directed by the lesser known Ferroni, understandably has a lot to live up to. Ferroni did, however, a decade or so before this shoot the Gothic delight that was Mill of the Stone Women and could be considered already qualified with such territory. Proceeding in a slow and solemn fashion Night of the Devils may struggle to keep many shaky-cam-weaned teens awake, and perhaps a shake-up in the pace department would have been of benefit, but what it lacks in urgency it makes up for in sinister, supernatural ambience. The fact that it's also punctuated by occasional gore - quite heavy for the period - and a grisly disintegrating head effect is of no great disadvantage either! The grim house in which Nikolas becomes trapped is enshrouded by an air of doom as the whole family lives in terror of the regularly returning 'corpse', and the city man's inability to escape builds on this fear of the otherworldly. Eventually (and I do mean eventually!) the tension really picks up and finally pays off to an extent, as the escape attempt comes under repeated attack from the increasing number of wurdulaks, giving Night of the Living Dead a run for its rotting flesh. This great climax really strengthens the preceding sombre and plodding nature, but there is a further bonus in the slightly ambiguous angle of the conclusion itself. This adds a potentially different take on what has been remembered in Nikolas's flashback. The score is a mixed bag - the theme tune itself tends to irritate (depending on personal taste of course - some viewers seem to love it), thankfully only being used two or three times, whilst elsewhere the incidental soundtrack is suitably spooky. Composer Giorgio Gaslini was known for creating music for quite a few Italian cinema titles, most notably though his contributions to the Deep Red soundtrack.

The film was once virtually impossible to find on home video formats (although of note, there was a soundtrack CD available in Italy) - it deserves to be seen by a wider audience and the Euro horror crowd (of which I am one) in particular should be appreciative of any such release. Raro Video (their US arm) have struck a new high definition transfer for this Blu-ray and it is sumptuous. Detail is advanced over anything standard definition can produce in a delicate fashion, rather than looking overly sharp. Everything is clear and the photography of the original material (undertaken by the highly experienced Manuel Berenguer of La Residencia fame) can truly be appreciated for the work of beauty that it is. I was particularly enamoured with the lush autumnal colour palette evident throughout, and seeing the film this way actually helps one to accept the slower pace of the story - there is time to soak up the visuals, a benefit lost in much of today's kinetic film-making. Raro have done a sterling job with the picture, and struck a major point for fans of European horror. Not only that, but you get a loss-less choice of the English or Italian language tracks, with optional English subtitles available - I would urge experiencing Night of the Devils in Italian if you do not suffer an aversion to reading dialogue while you're watching a film. There's also a lively five minute introduction to the film by Fangoria's editor, who delivers a charismatic contextualisation of the movie alongside personal opinion, plus a half hour interview with composer Gaslini, who comes across as very old-school Italian if I may say so! There's a nicely designed booklet contained in the package (though I did notice a few small mistakes in this, to be pedantic) and the case is enclosed within a slipcover. Raro have given a near-lost classic of Euro Horror a fantastic release that many other companies should aspire to as more and more of these mouth-watering titles gradually appear on Blu-ray. A collector's dream.

The X Files

1998, US, Directed by Rob Bowman
Colour, Running Time: 118 minutes
Review Source: DVD, R2, Fox; Video: Anamorphic 2.35:1, Audio: Dolby Digital 5.1

Taking an idea that was most recently (in terms of the show's chronology) mentioned in the finale to season 5, the movie begins with a couple of Neanderthals discovering in a cave what may be an extraterrestrial life form, a malevolent and putrid creature that destroys them. Jump forward several million years to the present day and some Dallas boys stumble across what is probably the same place underground, one of them (the lad who played Caleb so perceptively in American Gothic) becoming trapped with a strange black liquid that infiltrates his skin and takes over his body… Not only do the fire brigade turn up but a horde of militaristic vehicles arrive, suggesting that something altogether more profound is going on than a mere threat to a child’s life. Some time later FBI agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are involved in a terrorist situation that has them attempting to prevent the explosion of a building and its possible consequential catastrophic loss of life. Thanks to Mulder’s innate ability to turn a seemingly illogical hunch into the catalyst for an unprecedented discovery the agents end up searching what is initially suspected to be the wrong building. It actually turns out to be the ‘right’ building and they barely escape with their lives before the whole thing blows. It later transpires that what they thought was a cleared area just prior to the blast has in fact become the death bed for a couple of firemen and a young boy. Not only that but the FBI are as good as blaming the two agents for the disaster - they really were in the wrong place at the wrong time it seems. After a hearing that places their careers somewhere in mid air Mulder is contacted by a rogue writer of conspiracy theories, a man who is constantly at odds with authorities that are pinning anything on him that might put him out of action (e.g. child pornography claims). The man suggests that the people who ‘died’ in the explosion were actually already dead and this puts Mulder (along with a reluctant Scully) on a trail that leads the agents to the realisation that the whole thing may have been designed to cover up evidence of the possibility that aliens once visited the Earth and now threaten to repopulate it.

The first theatrical outing (sometimes under-titled Fight The Future or simply The Movie) for The X Files effectively bridges the gap between seasons 5 and 6: for the cracking final episode of the former the X Files department (read: basement) was not only shut down but burned down with Mulder and Scully being reassigned to more mundane cases (such as terrorist bomb threats and the like…). The irony is that the case they’re working on turns out to be inextricably linked to the very conspiracies that they’ve been ushered away from. The opening bomb scenario reminds me a little of that in Speed, but with a touch more realism (apart from Mulder’s discovery of the bomb’s location, one of those coincidences that underpins much of the series) - a pretty exciting and highly functional grip on the viewer for what’s to come. Woven into the dialogue are keenly inserted snippets of historical passages no doubt designed to familiarise viewers who may not be up to date with the show itself, but their incorporation just about manages to avoid contrivance. Familiar characters from the show are also peppered throughout - the smoking man, the lone gunmen, and Skinner of course - and these characters become mechanically relevant elements of the fairly intricate plot. In fact some viewers unaware of the show’s staples may find some of the dialogue-heavy sections hard work, being articulate, complicated, and undeniably paranoid as they are. Hence all of the elements are there that made the show work in the first place and this would be amongst the best episodes if it were such. Surprisingly the movie doesn’t simply take on the appearance of just another episode - it looks and feels much bigger in scope from the outset: the famous 20th Century Fox ident at the beginning, an apparently much more generous budget, the 2.39:1 aspect ratio (up from the 1.78:1 of the preceding season and the 1.33:1 of earlier seasons), and the absence of the show’s opening sequence, which it has to be said just wouldn’t have worked for a convincing theatrical presentation. Some of Mark Snow’s distinctive theme has been implemented into the score generally, however, so it’s not entirely missed. Gillian Anderson and Dave Duchovny both translate their characters to the big screen well and are by this point very comfortable with the two people who simply couldn’t have been portrayed by anybody else. Their near onscreen kiss is a cool highlight too. It was really nice to see Lucas Black show up (as the boy who comes into contact with the substance) though the fact that they used Christopher Fennell too (one of Caleb’s friends in American Gothic) makes me wonder whether this was an in-joke. The story itself, penned by the show’s creator Chris Carter along with regular collaborator Frank Spotnitz, reaches a huge and rousing climax that really tingles the flesh and proves that there was still life in the dog at that point.

The video transfer is by now dated but just manages to serve its purpose in an age that is rapidly becoming hi-def by default. It’s soft and features a slightly artificial looking colour scheme that I suspect could be substantially improved nowadays. The 5.1 track is aggressive, loud, and enveloping; this suits the TV series-to-cinema upgrade perfectly. A second disc of extras combines with an audio commentary to round out a pretty good package, however, the US Blu-ray version has really made this set redundant (for some reason, only the later film - I Want To Believe has made its way to UK Blu). I think this film is a thoroughly good expansion on the show’s concepts and a carrot to entice people to continue watching into season 6. Unfortunately I feel that the show was to go on way too long and ran well out of steam by the end of its ninth and final season.

Synapse Blues (and a little Code Red...)

US based company Synapse are on a Dario Argento Blu-ray stint this year: They're releasing his Lamberto Bava-directed productions Demons and its sequel (but they'll have to go some to beat the Arrow releases of these).  They're also putting out Phenomena (again, Arrow's Blu-ray is already a winner so I'll most likely stick with that) and of more interest is Tenebrae - the UK Blu-ray of this film is troubled so I will be anxious to see how the new disc turns out.  Synapse are covering the dirtier side of Blu with Fairy in a Cage, on their Impulse label.

Meanwhile Code Red have announced (DVD only unfortunately) the first official disc release of the seventies horror black comedy The Folks at Red Wolf Inn, which I've always been interested in checking out.

Deep River Savages

1972, Italy/Thailand, Directed by Umberto Lenzi
Colour, Running Time: 86 minutes
Review Source: DVD, R2, Hardgore; Video: Anamorphic 2.35:1, Audio: DD Mono

It seems that almost everybody has heard of Cannibal Holocaust, partly thanks to similarities portrayed in the more approachable Blair Witch Project, partly due simply to its brutal notoriety as one of the nastiest films of all time. The film was the most prominent component of a wider sequence that flourished to an extent throughout the seventies before quickly dying a death in the early eighties, probably as a result of lack of diversity - you can only do so much with this sort of material before people go off looking for other things to satisfy their primordial bloodlust, such as political dramas and romantic comedies... The 'third world cannibal movie' cycle often followed a predetermined narrative; ignorant westerners stumbling into jungles inhabited by evolutionary throwbacks in the shape of carnivorous natives with a taste for human limbs and organs. Along the way the westerners (and therefore, we the viewers) would witness horrific acts of barbarity that would push the boundaries of cinema to extremes, along with testing the limits of our constitution. Unfortunately these acts often utilised the ‘services’ of real animals and new depths in the exploration of entertainment and enterprise were reached. This latter point of course illustrates an indefensible staple of cannibal movies, at least from my point of view, but the continuation of productions throughout a decade or so must surely outline questions regarding the public search for entertainment. And indeed this links into the main moral focus that is dubiously raised time and again throughout the sub-genre, that there is at core little difference between us and the so-called savages portrayed as opposition to the westerners - we are endogenously barbaric ourselves. This is the real and oft forgotten reason that Cannibal Holocaust is the best of the bunch: it actually outlines that argument better than any of the others and almost seems to have some social relevance amidst its rape and mutilation, though its means is still to some degree unjustifiable.

So where does Deep River Savages fit into all of this? Well, this film could be considered the starting point for the whole thing. The tone slightly differs to what would commonly follow but many of the trappings are established here. After being deserted by his girlfriend in Thailand, a London photographer gets into a brawl in a bar that results in a Thai man’s death. Despite a potential argument for self defence he escapes into the night to disappear, not realising that that’s precisely what he will soon be doing… Heading off towards the wilderness until the whole thing has chance to blow over, he arranges a long and quiet guide-driven sail down the river, eventually into uncharted territory. After several uneventful days of photography and sleeping his guide is found murdered by the side of the boat and John is promptly captured by the local natives that killed the man. What follows is several weeks of punishment, humiliation, attempted escapes, and slavery as John becomes gradually accustomed to what appears to be his new life in the tribe’s village. Until Marayå, a woman he has caught the eye of, experiences increasing attraction to the western man culminating in John being accepted as part of the tribe and marrying Marayå. But the imminent danger of neighbouring tribes is never far from John's new reality…

What is essentially the birth of the cannibal movie surprisingly transpires to be a grisly-exploitation-movie-cum-love-story. Much attention is placed on the progressing relationship between John (Ivan Rassimov, as seen elsewhere in many an Italian exploitation flick) and sexy native girl Marayå (actually Me Me Lai attempting to further her career after a stint in Sale of the Century). John’s former girlfriend is mysteriously banished from memory as he embarks upon a mission that will change his perspective on life forever. Believe it or not there are a couple of things to enjoy in Il Paese del Sesso Selvaggio (or Man From Deep River). Firstly the locations are attractive and make for striking travelogue-style imagery. Next is John’s voyage down the river, which actually musters a little bit of tension as the titular savages remain persistently unseen until he’s accosted. Finally there’s the omnipresent but underlying feeling of hopelessness as John’s repeated attempts to emancipate himself are thwarted before he’s dragged back to the village for more problems. This film initiated a trend for animal suffering that was to continue in the genre without any real justification, and this is where for once the BBFC’s intervention is merciful - they’ve removed almost all of it from this Hardgore disc. Lenzi was to make a name for himself in the cannibal cycle and went on to direct Eaten Alive (Mangiati Vivi!), a reasonable concoction of adventure and cannibalistic violence, and Cannibal Ferox, the man’s similarly horrific answer to …Holocaust. He was never going to be an Oscar winner of course but did manage to produce a couple of genuinely entertaining non-cannibal movies along the way, Nightmare City being my personal favourite.

Deep River Savages is almost palatable in its UK-approved censored version, exhibiting little animal violence (though there is one throat cutting of a goat that caught me off guard near the conclusion, so beware) and only snippets of fairly heavy gore here and there. It’s nowhere near as nihilistic as what would come later on and its delineation of taboo love adds something of value to the material. The influence apparently derived from the earlier western A Man Called Horse, to which Lenzi’s film bears more than a passing thematic resemblance, is also of historical interest to buffs. It’s never going to make any top ten lists but neither is it competing for any worst movie prizes either. The Hardgore DVD looks moderately appealing in its fully scoped glory but is missing around 4 minutes (perhaps more) of visceral imagery that most people would really rather not see anyway. Back in the seventies this film was rejected outright in Britain by the BBFC, it was then technically banned on video and briefly placed on the DPP list during the eighties. There was then the strange appearance of a reportedly uncut though terribly cropped disc (DVD Classics) years ago - I could only assume this to be a disc production error because there’s no way the board would allow this through uncut as long as they were awake when viewing. Media Blasters in the US have put out the best release hitherto, being a fully uncut DVD containing an Italian soundtrack alongside the English with optional subtitles. There’s also a ten minute interview on the SS disc. Despite that, more casual viewers who’d prefer not to see cruelty to innocent creatures could safely get by with the Hardgore DVD reviewed here.

Whistle And I'll Come To You

1968, UK, Directed by Jonathan Miller
Black & White, Running Time: 42 minutes
Review Source: DVD, R2, BFI; Video: 1.33:1, Audio: Dolby Digital Mono

Based on one of author M.R.James' (Montague Rhodes...) most famous stories, which was written around the turn of the twentieth century, Whistle And I'll Come To You as filmed in 1968 is a fairly simple tale: an elderly academic man goes to stay at a seaside hotel for a few days, taking rambles on the beach and generally absorbing the kind of air we're probably now allergic to in cities. On one of his walks he discovers a crumbling grave at the cliff's edge, the whole thing on the verge of going over the side with a couple of more years of coastal erosion. Rummaging through the dirt he pulls out a partially exhumed whistle which he takes back to the hotel to clean up. He finds an inscription on the side which suggests that some 'one' will come if the item is used, which the skeptical old man does. He's soon experiencing vivid and disturbing nightmares, feelings of being followed, and the apparent witnessing of an apparition's manifestation that pushes his mind into madness.

Having only recently seen for the first time this short film made for BBC's Omnibus series, there was some expectation based on the reputation it has acquired over the years (indeed, this reputation warranted a remake of sorts in 2010). The film is starkly shot in black and white, the seaside actually looking cold, unaccomodating, and rather mundane. This of course is part of the point: James liked to feature relatively ordinary people (who generally resembled his scholarly self) in typical locations before something very much inexplicable occurs. I think herein lies much of the power - it's quite easy to identify with the character and place even if we haven't been there and are not like that personally, because it all seems so rooted in convention. The eccentric central character, Parkin, is a rather cumbersome, insular man of university background (the same as, I understand, the author of the story). Like most intellectuals (and most average people these days) he only seems to believe in whatever has a rational explanation, and nothing outside of that can possibly exist. Of course this is primarily why the story probably came into being - it's telling complacent individuals who think they know everything about this world that they actually don't. The film's dialogue makes poignant use of a Shakespearian quotation during a conversation between Parkin and someone else at the hotel when the gentleman reminds Parkin that there are 'more things in Heaven and Earth than dreamt of in your philosophy', a statement which the intellectually arrogant Parkin amusingly turns on its head during a retort. Parkin's discovery of the whistle is what points his life along a path to a kind of undesirable enlightenment. He becomes aware of a motionless figure seemingly watching him on the beach, and later begins experiencing lucid dreams that wake him repeatedly, building a sense of absolute impending dread that increments towards a blood-chilling conclusion. Aside from the sometimes irritating habits and incessant mumblings of Parkin the film certainly lives up to its reputation - the palpable sense of terror, fear of unknown and unexplainable things, encroaching forces invading the life of previously obvlivious human. Miller and his crew achieve all of this with what is clearly a negligible budget and a minimalist plot. He does this through perfect framing (i.e. often seeing only what he wants you to, suggesting that more - the unknown - lies outside of your/the camera's vision) precise editing, and the fine performances bringing a classic story to life. I think a lot of modern horror film-makers could learn something from studying this film. For example, there is a cliche in many horror films where the viewer is 'tricked' into thinking something terrible is happening only to find that a character is dreaming it - in this film Miller demonstrates what a nightmare is really like. The use of startling sound interspersed with long bouts of eerie silence, Parkin captured in extreme close-up as he sleeps/wakes/almost fears looking around him/drifts back off, imagery that doesn't seem to completely make sense - your blood goes cold! The final scene where the supernatural truly makes itself known is filmed slowly with a long camera pull-back that elicits an almost unbearable level of tension before you've even seen anything. This sort of terror is too uncommon in cinema, but then I guess if it was common it would possibly lose its effect in some way, hence Whistle And I'll Come To You is a gem as far as the horror film is concerned, and the experience has stayed with me for days afterwards.

Shot on 16mm and transferred in standard definition from what are described as the best remaining elements, BFI has produced a superb transfer despite only being available on DVD. The original aspect ratio is retained, the range of greys from deep black to bright white is digitally replicated nicely, there is a natural and pleasing grain factor present throughout, whereas print damage appear to have been largely eliminated. It was once available on DVD (and VHS tape) in 2001 (from BFI) before going out of print and selling for princely sums on ebay ,etc. I'm unsure if the transfer on this 2012 edition is new or just the same as the old disc - either way it looks brilliant. Sound is clear and undistorted (mono only, as recorded) and all of the old disc's exrtas are present - these include a quarter of an hour introduction/history lesson by horror author Ramsey Campbell, a half hour filmed reading of one of Campbell's own short stories (which technically looks and sounds a bit ugly due to unprofessional recording techniques), plus a forty minute audio recording (of better quality) of the James story by Neil Brand. On the new disc there is also a too-brief three minute interview section, plus it includes the fifty minute 2010 BBC version of the story with John Hurt taking the lead. The new DVD can be purchased separately or as part of a sumptuous boxed set going by the title of 'Ghost Stories For Christmas', which as a horror fan I was itching to pick up. It's quite expensive but very thoughtfully put together, consisting of five discs, eight hours of films, plentiful extras, and a fifty page booklet heaving with essays (in addition to another smaller booklet).