Hands of the Ripper (1971)

 "It's the Ripper!"

I love Hammer Horror. Not all of the films are good, although most are, but most at least provide some cheesy fun. This one, however, does not really do even that. It's a rare dud.

I suppose there's nothing intrinsically wrong with the concept- the daughter of Jack the Ripper (a married, unnamed aristocrat who murders his wife after escaping a torch-wielding mob) grows up to have blackouts triggered by a certain thing that cause her to kill, much as her father. This is centred around a very Henry Higgins relationship between Dr Pritchard (Eric Potrter, still very good here even while obviously phoning it in) and Anna herself (an excellent Angharad Rees.

There's some good subtext here- one example of which is the debate between Pritchard and Dysart about judicial killing, rightfully reminding us of the barbarity of the practice: after all, how many killers have had abusive childhoods, even if not necessarily watching one's father stab one's mother to death? There also an amusing equivalence, intended or not, between seances, mediums and all that and Freudian psychoanalysis- both kinds of quackery are, of course, nonsense.

There are also enjoyable appearances from both the great Dora Bryan and the always wonderful Lynda Baron, both having enrmous fun with their roles. However, the film never really catches fire and, despite the charasma of the two leads, is rather formulaic without being silly enough to be quite enough fun, isolated scenes aside.

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The Prisoner: The Schizoid Man

" Your job, Number Twelve, is to impersonate him. Take his identity away."

This episode is an extraordinary example of institutional gaslighting, a word that probably wouldn’t have been used at the time, with Number Six told he is someone else and that he is to impersonate Number Six- and then introduced to a doppelgänger who seems to be far more himself than he is.

This idea is explored fiendishly, with devastating scenes at which the doppelgänger slowly and confidently makes him lose his sense of identity. And it’s arresting to hear him (well, his double) insisting that “I am Number Six “, the very thing he denies at the start of the episode. This is a deeply affecting example of destroying someone’s identity- all so he can reveal why he resigned “in your dream”. It helps that Anton Rodgers is a superb Number Two- with the venerable Earl Cameron as his deputy. But Patrick McGoohan is, as ever, superb, showing moments where our hero shows a rare, defeated vulnerability.

It’s interesting to see Number Six making a human connection with Alison, a believer in all this ESP nonsense; sadly Number Six believes in this crap, and accuses those of us who don’t of having no imagination!

But, as is traditional, we end with an escape attempt, with our nameless hero telling the latest Number Two that “Number Six is dead” and almost making it out in a helicopter. This is the cleverest plot yet, and the one which deals with some rather intense subject matter. One of the better episodes and a fine bit of telly.

And yes, I do have a certain track by King Crimson going through my head...