Frenzy
2/4
Starring: Jon Finch, Barry Foster, Anna Massey, Alec McCowen, Barbara Leigh-Hunt, Clive Swift, Billie Whitelaw, Vivien Merchant
Rated R (probably for Violence including a Brutal Rape, Language and Graphic Nudity)
When "Frenzy" opens, there's a generic orchestra playing a stuffy soundtrack as the camera slowly swoops down along the Thames. Indeed, the first half hour of the film feels like a British soap opera. Not a good sign if you're Alfred Hitchcock. And, sad to say, the film doesn't get much better. It has its moments to be sure. But this gratuitously violent would-be shocker is too dim-witted and too sluggish to generate much suspense.
A killer is on the loose in London. The madman rapes women, strangles them with a necktie, and then dumps the body. The police are without a suspect, which causes many a reaction among the populace. While they try to find the killer, a bloke named Richard Blaney (Finch) is having a really bad day. He's just been fired for stealing alcohol from the pub he works at (he was actually caught before he could pay for it), and he is too poor to take advantage of a sure-fire tip for the ponies given to him by his friend, Robert Rusk (Foster). Frustrated and out of options, he goes to see his ex-wife Brenda (Leigh-Hunt) for reasons he probably isn't sure of. The next day, Brenda becomes the victim of the killer, and her secretary fingers Richard as the killer. Only, he's innocent. The real killer is his friend Robert Rusk (this is not a spoiler, believe me).
It's hard to imagine what Hitch was thinking when he made this movie. Almost everything he does either doesn't work or misfires. There are a lot of problems with this movie.
-Item number one: the film takes forever to get going. Hitch knew better than anyone that pacing was key, but there is no way that he needed more than a half an hour to set up the characters and the plot. The strength of the performances keeps it above painful, but this is the stuff that gives British TV a bad name.
-Item number two: the plot can only work by ignoring a blatantly obvious plot hole. If a serial killer is on the loose, he would have to have no alibi for all the killings. But for whatever reason, all anyone seems to care about is Brenda's murder. If Richard could prove that he was not the killer for the other murders, then it stands to reason that he could easily prove that he wasn't Brenda's killer. No one seems to think of this, and Hitch doesn't bother addressing it, which means that he didn't think we would notice (at least not until we went to the refrigerator for a midnight snack).
-Item number three: the central murder is needlessly drawn out, badly edited, and uncomfortably graphic. I get that this is a serial killer movie, and giving the audience some idea of Robert's deviance is important for the film to work. But did he really need to show every moment of him savoring her fear and pain as he raped and murdered her? What could have been done in sixty seconds, if that, takes what seems like forever. Hitch understood restraint, if not good taste. But here, it's overkill and it's unpleasant.
And that's just the start. To be quite frank, this isn't a very good story, and Hitch made uncharacteristic mistakes all the way through. Even the ending falls flat. There is some suspense in the second half, but by then it's too late. If the audience is anything like me, they will have checked out long ago.
At least the acting is good. Jon Finch is solid as the wrongfully accused (one of Hitch's favorite devices), but his performance as an alcoholic deadbeat might have been better served in an episode of daytime British TV. Barry Foster is very good as the villain. Rusk is the consummate psychopath; charming or chilling depending on the situation. Barbara Leigh-Hunt is good as Richard's ex, who still cares for him even after their marriage ended. Anna Massey is a delight as his (former) co-worker/girlfriend/cheerleader. Special mention has to go to Billie Whitelaw. As the wife of a friend who questions his innocence, she gives the film some badly needed energy. The actress is only on screen for two scenes, but she dominates them handily. She knows how things look and what the stakes are for her and her husband.
I like Alfred Hitchcock. He's made some classic movies and has earned his reputation as the Master of Suspense. But there's no beating around the bush: "Frenzy" just doesn't work. There's too little energy, too little suspense, and some truly questionable material. Hitch left behind a legacy of brilliant films like "Rear Window," "North by Northwest," and "Psycho." Rent one of them instead.
Starring: Jon Finch, Barry Foster, Anna Massey, Alec McCowen, Barbara Leigh-Hunt, Clive Swift, Billie Whitelaw, Vivien Merchant
Rated R (probably for Violence including a Brutal Rape, Language and Graphic Nudity)
When "Frenzy" opens, there's a generic orchestra playing a stuffy soundtrack as the camera slowly swoops down along the Thames. Indeed, the first half hour of the film feels like a British soap opera. Not a good sign if you're Alfred Hitchcock. And, sad to say, the film doesn't get much better. It has its moments to be sure. But this gratuitously violent would-be shocker is too dim-witted and too sluggish to generate much suspense.
A killer is on the loose in London. The madman rapes women, strangles them with a necktie, and then dumps the body. The police are without a suspect, which causes many a reaction among the populace. While they try to find the killer, a bloke named Richard Blaney (Finch) is having a really bad day. He's just been fired for stealing alcohol from the pub he works at (he was actually caught before he could pay for it), and he is too poor to take advantage of a sure-fire tip for the ponies given to him by his friend, Robert Rusk (Foster). Frustrated and out of options, he goes to see his ex-wife Brenda (Leigh-Hunt) for reasons he probably isn't sure of. The next day, Brenda becomes the victim of the killer, and her secretary fingers Richard as the killer. Only, he's innocent. The real killer is his friend Robert Rusk (this is not a spoiler, believe me).
It's hard to imagine what Hitch was thinking when he made this movie. Almost everything he does either doesn't work or misfires. There are a lot of problems with this movie.
-Item number one: the film takes forever to get going. Hitch knew better than anyone that pacing was key, but there is no way that he needed more than a half an hour to set up the characters and the plot. The strength of the performances keeps it above painful, but this is the stuff that gives British TV a bad name.
-Item number two: the plot can only work by ignoring a blatantly obvious plot hole. If a serial killer is on the loose, he would have to have no alibi for all the killings. But for whatever reason, all anyone seems to care about is Brenda's murder. If Richard could prove that he was not the killer for the other murders, then it stands to reason that he could easily prove that he wasn't Brenda's killer. No one seems to think of this, and Hitch doesn't bother addressing it, which means that he didn't think we would notice (at least not until we went to the refrigerator for a midnight snack).
-Item number three: the central murder is needlessly drawn out, badly edited, and uncomfortably graphic. I get that this is a serial killer movie, and giving the audience some idea of Robert's deviance is important for the film to work. But did he really need to show every moment of him savoring her fear and pain as he raped and murdered her? What could have been done in sixty seconds, if that, takes what seems like forever. Hitch understood restraint, if not good taste. But here, it's overkill and it's unpleasant.
And that's just the start. To be quite frank, this isn't a very good story, and Hitch made uncharacteristic mistakes all the way through. Even the ending falls flat. There is some suspense in the second half, but by then it's too late. If the audience is anything like me, they will have checked out long ago.
At least the acting is good. Jon Finch is solid as the wrongfully accused (one of Hitch's favorite devices), but his performance as an alcoholic deadbeat might have been better served in an episode of daytime British TV. Barry Foster is very good as the villain. Rusk is the consummate psychopath; charming or chilling depending on the situation. Barbara Leigh-Hunt is good as Richard's ex, who still cares for him even after their marriage ended. Anna Massey is a delight as his (former) co-worker/girlfriend/cheerleader. Special mention has to go to Billie Whitelaw. As the wife of a friend who questions his innocence, she gives the film some badly needed energy. The actress is only on screen for two scenes, but she dominates them handily. She knows how things look and what the stakes are for her and her husband.
I like Alfred Hitchcock. He's made some classic movies and has earned his reputation as the Master of Suspense. But there's no beating around the bush: "Frenzy" just doesn't work. There's too little energy, too little suspense, and some truly questionable material. Hitch left behind a legacy of brilliant films like "Rear Window," "North by Northwest," and "Psycho." Rent one of them instead.
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