The Black Panther (1977)/Revenge (1971)

Two films that, perhaps surprisingly, seem to be filed under British Horror rather than British Crime. One based upon truth, the other fictional. Both featuring kidnaps, the kidnap victim being kept underground, and characters lives unravelling as a result of things going wrong.

The Black Panther is a low-budget British film, made shortly after the trial and imprisonment of its real-life protagonist Donald Neilson, which led to accusations of bad taste and sensationalism from the unhypocritical press. A petty thief who gradually escalated criminally to robbing sub-post offices, which tragically end in murder, owing to Neilson’s incompetence and the selfless bravery of those responsible for these places. That ever-present symbol of British crime, the sawn-off shotgun is the culprit here.

In an effort to get that one big payoff, Neilson kidnaps an heiress, imprisons her in a storm drain, and attempts to get a £50,000 ransom. Although her brother is willing to pay, police ineffectuality, press interference and the inevitable consequences of chance thwarting his carefully-laid plans leads to the death of the heiress and, seemingly by chance again, Neilson is captured.

Considering the circumstances in which it was made, the film is quite remarkable. Its proximity to the actual events now lends it a verisimilitude that any amount of later painstaking period detail reconstruction could not provide.

Watch out for the opening and closing shots.

Revenge however, is a bit more bearable because of its roots in fiction, recognisable actors and the almost over-the-top events. Bizarrely a product of Peter Rogers, with music by Eric Rogers, one could be forgiven for perhaps expecting Carry On Vigilante.

A sombre opening as a grief-stricken family attend the funeral of one of its members, a young girl murdered by a suspect now in the hands of the police. Another funeral attendee (Ray Barratt) has also lost his daughter the same way, and bears the bad news that the Old Bill have released the suspect for lack of evidence. Ray has been keeping an eye on this perve (Kenneth Griffith with coke-bottle-bottom glasses, ill-fiitting clothes and a habit of going out of his way on his daily shopping trips to go past a local school where he can offer young girls some sweets – how could the killer not be him?)

The two dads (the other being James Booth) along with a grown up son, decide to kidnap Griffith and batter the truth out of him – and if he confesses, administer their own form of final justice.

As in The Black Panther, things don’t always go their way. After eventually successfully grabbing their man (although a woman saw events from a nearby window) and incarcerating him in the cellar of The Crown (Booth’s pub), they can’t prevent fate from conspiring against them.

The moral compass keeps swinging every which way. Have they accidently beaten Griffith to death? Is he the right man? What if he escapes?

Primarily seen as a sleazy pot-boiler nowadays, the film offers up some surprising twists, and thoughts on taking the law into your own hands, and/or events spiralling out of control.

Bela Lugosi's Dead

Wanted to watch Dark Eyes Of London last night. Of Bela Lugosi’s films made in Britain, this one is far and away the best. The Mystery Of The Mary (sic) Celeste (I’ve only seen the shortened Phantom Ship version in a mega crackle edition) is pretty intriguing, but, Bela aside, a little lacking in horror. Mother Riley Meets The Vampire (My version masquerades as Vampire Over London) is a riot and well worth watching, although it’s a crime comedy. Hordes of familiar (to people of a certain age) Brit actors (such as Dandy Nichols, Hattie Jacques, Richard Wattis and Dora Bryan) and Bela having a good time. Before chucking on “The Human Monster” (as my disc is named – so that’s all three under alternate titles – Blimey!) I dug out a DVD discovered in a charity shop – Bauhaus – Archive, a compilation of two videotapes (which I owned back in the day) – Shadow Of Light and..er..Archive, and thrilled to Goth pioneers the ‘Haus morosely dirging through their first single Bela Lugosi’s Dead. Terrific stuff. Peter Murphy sends shivers down my spine. (As does Bela Lugosi himself. We start with a view of London’s famous Tower Bridge. The title The Human Monster. And a pair of dark eyes flying towards us. The film halts. The British Board Of Film Censorship’s H (For Horror) certificate appears, and we then gey exactly the same credits except with The Dark Eyes Of London replacing The Human Monster. The original Brit titles. Huzzah! Mind you, the H certificate is a lovely piece of film and horror history. Brought in by a concerned BBFC, ironically as the initial horror boom of the 1930s faded, doubly ironically as such fading was allegedly a result of British flapping about these terrible examples of celluloid, it’s a joy to actually see the thing in all its glory. As an adolescent of the late 1970s I always got a charge from the blood-red X certificate preceding an adults only film. The film itself is based upon an Edgar Wallace novel, and mainly concerns insurance fraud through murder. Fortunately we’re treated to the bodies being fished out of the Thames or washed up on mudflats by eerie fog-shrouded wharfs, a hideous stooge called Jake who’s very frightening, Bela as oily, smarmy insurance agent Dr Orloff (cue Jess Franco) who’s outward appearance as a benevolent philanthropist conceals dark motives (and eyes). There’s also ghastly goings on at a home for the blind (remarkably the real National Society for the Blind assisted in the making of this picture) that (again for people of a certain age and genre predilection) foresees (sorry) the final story in the 1972 big-screen adaptation of Tales From The Crypt.. Most of the investigation is carried out in an almost light-hearted manner by a suave CID man, ably assisted by an American import, snd distracted then assisted by the obligatory love interest. Short, sinister, sparkling and great fun. As does Bela Lugosi himself. We start with a view of London’s famous Tower Bridge. The title The Human Monster. And a pair of dark eyes flying towards us. The film halts. The British Board Of Film Censorship’s H (For Horror) certificate appears, and we then gey exactly the same credits except with The Dark Eyes Of London replacing The Human Monster. The original Brit titles. Huzzah! Mind you, the H certificate is a lovely piece of film and horror history. Brought in by a concerned BBFC, ironically as the initial horror boom of the 1930s faded, doubly ironically as such fading was allegedly a result of British flapping about these terrible examples of celluloid, it’s a joy to actually see the thing in all its glory. As an adolescent of the late 1970s I always got a charge from the blood-red X certificate preceding an adults only film. The film itself is based upon an Edgar Wallace novel, and mainly concerns insurance fraud through murder. Fortunately we’re treated to the bodies being fished out of the Thames or washed up on mudflats by eerie fog-shrouded wharfs, a hideous stooge called Jake who’s very frightening, Bela as oily, smarmy insurance agent Dr Orloff (cue Jess Franco) who’s outward appearance as a benevolent philanthropist conceals dark motives (and eyes). There’s also ghastly goings on at a home for the blind (remarkably the real National Society for the Blind assisted in the making of this picture) that (again for people of a certain age and genre predilection) foresees (sorry) the final story in the 1972 big-screen adaptation of Tales From The Crypt.. Most of the investigation is carried out in an almost light-hearted manner by a suave CID man, ably assisted by an American import, snd distracted then assisted by the obligatory love interest. Short, sinister, sparkling and great fun.