Mark Lewis (Karl
Boehm) is anintroverted feature camera assistant. His off hours are consumed with a
secret obsession - filming the 'un-filmable' Face of Death on women
being murdered ... while he is murdering them. He allows himself to be drawn
into a relationship with the girl downstairs, Helen (Anna Massey, the
hapless potato victim in Alfred Hitchcock's Frenzy), and tries his
best to understand himself and perhaps work his way to a cure. It seems Mark
was the childhood guinea pig of a scientist father who used him in cruel,
mind-warping experiments, 'research' that the adult Mark is himself
perversely continuing.
This synopsis reads like a modern slasher film, which Peeping Tom
never even begins to resemble. There is almost no blood, and none of the
explicit violence of the same year's smash success Psycho. The film
plays like a clever puzzle filled with clues: allusions, jokes, visual
references. All center around the proposition that, by their
vicarious involvement in the stories they watch, film viewers become complicit in
the fantasies they experience.
Peeping Tom is told with the 'inspired simplicity' that its director
Michael Powell brought to an armload of classics
(The Thief of Bagdad,
I Know Where I'm Going,
The Red Shoes) that defy the rules of both their
genres and the times in which they were made. He specialized in
stories that challenged English attitudes and assumptions, and in Peeping
Tom took on the dangerous task of portraying the truth about the relationship
between cinema and voyeurism, between the fantasies we seek on the screen
and the fantasies we hide in our personalities. Although it is not an 'art'
film, Peeping Tom is difficult to discuss without debating
the appeal of movies as a link to forbidden desires, or contemplating
the passive/active component of Film as Fantasy. This most intelligent
film about cinema is a horror film. Michael Powell was crucified
for making a 'perverse' movie, when what he and writer Leo Marks actually
did was deliver the unwelcome truth that the fundamental perversity of
filmmaking and movie watching makes us all Peeping Toms.
The excellent, excellent Channel 4 U.K. documentary that accompanies
Peeping Tom, A Very British Psycho is without a doubt the
most rewarding DVD supplement Savant has ever seen. I've read a lot on this
film but the docu was like a bullet to the brain, full of insights and
inspirations. To begin with, half the show is about Tom writer Leo Marks,
who was a top code master during WWII. How that story relates to Peeping
Tom (and some wonderful poetry) makes for a very unusual structure.
Marks' wartime job involved inventing 'unbreakable'codes (an
impossibility) and sending people off to live or die on the
quality of his intellectual work. Peeping Tom came about from the
compassionate/ cold blooded relationship Marks had to maintain with his spy
operatives, and the macabre intimacy he had with some
of their horrible fates. In Marks' unenviable position, callous disregard for the lives
of his agents was sometimes in the best interest of the War Effort.
For Peeping Tom's Mark Lewis (Leo Marks' name in code?), the
inhuman half of the equation has taken over. In his quest for the 'un-filmable
image' Lewis has alienated himself from the human race, and become a serial killer.
Through beautiful on-camera interviews with many of the principals involved,
the docu also shows
how the film was destroyed by the critics, its relationship
to Psycho and how Hitchcock avoided repeating Powell's commercial
fate. The docu is also one of the few to intelligently use clips from the
film it is studying. Bits of scenes are even successfully reenacted:
"What paper am I from? Oh. The Observer."
Peeping Tom
effectively uses color schemes and lighting to create specific psychological
reactions; you can feel the atmosphere at times. Vittorio Storaro
once wrote an essay in American Cinematographer about the
psychological effects of color in One From the Heart. The editors of
that magazine felt it necessary to print an insulting disclaimer after the
article stating it didn't endorse Storaro's theories! Peeping Tom was
the movie that made me feel Storaro was right after all. Helen rises into
a shadowy closeup as she watches some unspeakable projected image, with
watery highlights in her eyes showing her terror. The fleeting glimpse of
nudie model Milly (Pamela Green) lying across the bottom of the frame, a
glowing, slightly overexposed altar of red flesh, has the effect of an
erotic hallucination.
Peeping Tom and Psycho are opposite sides of the same
Horror coin, movies with completely different approaches to similar material.
Both are complex and illuminating in different ways. Psycho is rooted
in clinical truth about psychotic killers, whereas Tom is a less
organic (but more enlightening) intellectual puzzle based on the nature
of cinema itself. Both offer visual revelations in staggering succession:
Psycho's mirror-doppelgangers, Peeping Tom's strange
Hopper-like shot of Mark Lewis waiting at the base of a concrete housing
structure, an uncannily sinister composition. Every aspect of the film
has its own fantastic dimension. The rooms of Mark Lewis' house, for
example, seem to represent
psychological domains, with his curtained, dark, film-filled lab the secret
repository of taboo memories. A surprise after all these years is to
see a precursor of Hitchcock's superimposed Psycho skull-face in
one very complex shot (see below). Note that only the part of the
image of Moira Shearer
projected onto the screen has eyes in its eye sockets!
Criterion's DVD is stunning to behold. Here for once is a fairly obscure
horror film whose critical visual dimension is well served. The colors
and textures leap off the screen; the opening Soho street scene is so
garish it jumps out at you. Both the feature and the documentary
are mastered in full-resolution 16:9. The shelves of the girlie magazine
shop are lined with dozens of dirty postcards whose contents were a blur
on the laser disc but now are crystal clear. The 1:66 aspect ratio
is achieved in 16:9 by placing narrow black 'bookends' onto the sides
of the image. Flat-widescreen films were meant
to be cropped off to varying degrees and Savant thinks Criterion used excellent
judgment in this case.
The mono sound is sharp and clear and full of effective surprises, such
as the heartbeat that pounds through the scene where Helen's blind mother meets
Mark, and unnerves him with her apparent ability to 'see' his
sickness. Laura Mulvey's commentary track, analyzing
the film in Cinema 101 detail shot by shot, is best sampled after
seeing the documentary. Although good, it is definitely deep dish art-speak.
Then again, seeing the docu will convert many viewers into wanting to hear
as much analysis of Peeping Tom as they can!
A simple paper insert reprints Ms. Mulvey's
liner notes from the previous laser disc. The only conceivable weakness to
the DVD is the box art, which not only is unattractive, but manages to
obscure the film's title. Nobody is going to find this one on a store shelf.
Criterion's Peeping Tom DVD restores one's faith in horror films,
movie documentaries, and general intelligence in the cinema universe.
Criterion is to be applauded for retransferring this superior film in
such stunning fashion. If you aren't inclined to buy it, for heaven's
sake find a way to rent Peeping Tom ... it's a film
that can alter one's perception of what movies are.
On a scale of Excellent, Good, Fair, and Poor, Peeping Tom rates:
Movie: Excellent+
Video: Excellent
Sound: Excellent
Supplements: Excellent +
Packaging: Amaray Case
Reviewed: November 23,1999.
Text (c) Copyright 1999 Glenn Erickson
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