It was a film that disgusted critics, destroyed the reputation of one of Britains most distinguished auteurs and sent its lead actor into disrepute. But now 50 years after its cinematic release
Michael Powells
Peeping Tom is celebrated as a bona fide masterpiece. A new special anniversary Blu-ray will be
released on Monday. Filmed in lurid Eastmancolor by the same cinematographer as
The Ladykillers, Peeping Tom is a richly visual feast. It focuses on the voyeuristic tendencies of an amateur documentary filmmaker who kills women with his spike-encrusted portable movie camera in a morbid attempt to capture the act of fear itself. Recognising how the film addresses the potential sadist qualities of such a profession, one of the films strongest advocates
Martin Scorsese said at the special BAFTA screening I attended:
It captures the impulse of filmmaking and how close moviemaking comes to madness.
But as noted film scholar
Ian Christie, (who was also in attendance) explained critics of the time were oblivious to such acute cinematic referencing and instead considered the themes and images too perverse to comprehend: It has to be the sickest and bluntest film I remember said The Spectator. The bluntest of cheap thrills echoed Tribune. Such perverted non sense went The Daily Worker.
Watching the film today it's difficult to appreciate exactly why
Peeping Tom was so critically reviled. But as Powell's widow
Thelma Schoonmaker explained in her introduction, the critics were perhaps uncomfortable with the way the film got underneath their skin and made them feel sympathy toward a killer. And indeed even today it's hard not to feel anything for the central character. Portrayed by Austrian actor
Carl Boehm, the murderer Mark Lewis is an unassuming quietly mannered presence who the audience is seemingly encouraged to identity with. When he is introduced his waxen features project childhood innocence and it is difficult to associate him as the perpetrator of the grisly prostitute murder that superbly opens the film. Later we learn about the troubling childhood experiments that Marks psychologist father (played by Powell himself) subjected him to and how this fuelled his sinister voyeuristic tendencies.
Interestingly the film was released barely a month before
Alfred Hitchcocks similarly murderer driven thriller
Psycho. However Psych
o concluded with a (somewhat redundant) Freudian explanation scene that successfully distanced the viewer from the killers actions and left them feeling reassured. In hindsight this was perhaps a smart move from Hitchcock as it inevitably saved the film from suffering the same fate as Peeping Tom. Like Hitchcocks dark comedy Powells film isnt without humour. When Mark poses as a reporter and is asked which publication he represents he promptly states The Observer. And later when an elderly gentleman customer (played by character actor
Miles Malleson) purchases some saucy pictures along with a copy of The Telegraph the newsagent hilariously comments He wont be doing the crossword tonight! There are also plenty of other witty in-jokes targeted at the film industry.
Esmond Knight, who plays an erratic director within the film, was legally blind at the time, while Schoonmaker disclosed that the character of Don Jarvis the studio boss is an anagram of Powells own notorious Rank producer nemesis
John Davis. Due to the quiet relentless intimacy of point-of-view framing the murder sequences still have the almighty power to shook today. But what's deeply unsettling is how the film addresses the potential sadist qualities of filmmaking itself and how it implicates us, the viewer, as guilt ridden voyeurs. In 1960 it could be written off as sick and twisted but today in our media fixated all consuming social climate it takes on terrifying new voyeuristic precedence.
EXTRAS
A beautifully remastered print of the film finally does justice to the extraordinary lurid qualities of Eastmancolour, which as noted in the optional introduction by life-long Powell supporter Scorsese, adds an appropriately sleazy magazine aesthetic quality to the picture. The Blu-ray disc comes with an informative and thorough
Ian Christie commentary that celebrates many of the stylistic and thematic flourishes that could easily be missed by the casual viewer. While an interview with Scorseses long-time editor (and widow of Powell)
Thelma Schoonmaker makes for some intriguing personal insights into the filmmakers unique vision.
However it is the two documentaries that really do justice to this special edition: The Eye of the Beholder is a riveting 30 min discussion of the film including contributions from lead actor
Carl Boehm and Powells son (who played Mark as a child in the film) Columba. More psychoanalytically informed is the French language doc The Strange Gaze of Mark Lewis which assembles an array of film psychologists to fathom the complex motivations behind the lead character. A restoration comparison, stills gallery and an original trailer complete this very enticing 50th Anniversary Edition. Peeping Tom is re-released in cinemas on 19th November and
the 50th Anniversary Blu-ray edition is available to purchase from the 22nd November.