From 1978 comes a quirky film that really should be considered a classic. It's definitely one of those "less is more affairs," but it is oddly compelling after a couple of watches. Starring Susannah York, Alan Bates, John Hurt (in his pre-ripped chest days) and, of all people, a very quiet Tim Curry (in his post loader Frank-n-Furter days). It looks completely normal.....like this little tense domestic scene:
Like something out of EastEnders.....
I first watched this several years back. It was Region 2 copy played on a code-free DVD player, when copies where still cheap (now they are pretty expensive, and it's still just Region 2). It is still a favorite, but un-watchable when the cheap little code-free players go belly up; so it had been a few years since it had been viewed. I have to say, it was a pleasure. It is such a strange little film. A domestic English country-side drama with Australian Aboriginal magic thrown in (at least that is what the stranger, who comes to be known simply as "Crossley" says he is in personal possession of). Anthony Fielding (John Hurt) is a avant-garde musician who doubles as the village church organist. His dangerously sexual wife (well, for a quiet English hamlet anyway) "Rachel" (Susannah York) is clearly bored with all aspects of her life. When this stranger "Crossley" (Alan Bates) shows up like a stray dog hanging around waiting to be taken in she jumps at the chance. Which from the still above, you can plainly see he was. He quickly insinuates himself into all crooks and crannies of their lives--until he tells Anthony his about his time down-under. Things then a turn quickly into atmosphere where Anthony is just a besotted with him as Rachel is: her in a writhing sexual kind of way and he in a over curious "musical" sort of way. There are lots of side-ways glances at ordinary things, like clothes-lines.
Finally Anthony, who claims not to believe most of what Crossley tells him about his Aboriginal "shout powers," but is secretly inflamed in the kind of curiosity that gets cats killed, goads Crossley into literally putting his mouth where is mouth is....and we get the shout.
Things get really weird in the village after this...people and animals die mysteriously, rocks buried in beach sand have power over people and Anthony recedes into his recording studio to obsess over "shout powers." John Hurt's annoyed hissing of the name "Rachel" is spot on, as his character descends into a place of possible madness. There is only one problem, and it could be a big one. There is a frame story and it is told from an insane asylum....um....ere...rest home, during a cricket match in a thunder storm! This is where Robert Graves (Tim Curry) comes in. He is the unfortunate score keeper, whose ears are being bent by inmate "Crossley" in the scoring shed, as the story is unfolds as a flash-back--but Crossley in the mental lock-up, is any of it true??
This is really a gem for people who like quirky or understated horror films. It is a must for anyone is in anyway a fan of Brit Horror--if you can get your mits on it.
In fact the folks over at British Horror Films (Happy Tenth to them BTY!!) have the nicest little blurb on their films list to introduce this relative unknown:
Game of cricket enlivened by tales of shouting and the occasional bolt of lightening
For anyone who wants to read more, please see The Shout And apparently it is still in print in the UK.
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