(1971)
Dir - Sidney Hayers
Overall: MEH
A formulaic whodunit with a sensationalized rape angle, Assault, (The Creepers, In the Devil's Garden), has a number of British faces who anyone familiar with Doctor Who or any other BBC program from the era will be able to spot. Anthony Ainley, Tony Beckley, James Laurenson, and Frank Finlay have all made the rounds, plus Suzy Kendall was a bonafide scream queen for a solid decade, finding herself in the lead here as a woman who helps both the doctors and the police in tracking down a madman who cannot keep his vile mitts off of young girls walking through the woods. John Kruse's script adapts Kendal Young's 1962 novel The Ravine and points the finger at numerous red herring suspects along the way, interjecting the proceedings with a couple of POV sequences where the bad guy rips at the undergarments of his screaming victims. The subject matter sounds more brutal than it comes off on screen, with a busy brass and bongo soundtrack giving it a zippy tone, plus little action in place of characters discussing the psychology of the do-badder and how to catch him.
(1972)
Dir - Fred Burnley
Overall: MEH
The only full-length from television director Fred Burnley, Neither the Sea Nor the Sand, (The Exorcism of Hugh), is a peculiar telling of love withstanding death, but it is also a vapid one. Shot in Jersey with many sequences taking place on rocky, crashing-waved beaches, there is a haunting element to the locale where Susan Hampshire and Michael Petrovitch meet and quickly fall in love, despite their puzzling lack of on-screen chemistry. Gordon Honeycomb adapts his own 1969 novel, but the romance seems as forced as it is unconvincing. This would work in a more melodramatic setting, but the performances are subdued in keeping with Burnley's chilled atmosphere which recalls various folk horror films from the era. Unfortunately though, there is nothing creepy or interesting going on. Petrovitch inexplicably comes back from the dead in a manner of speaking and Hampshire does everything she can to pretend that such a thing is normal, but the otherworldly situation seems awkward instead of harrowing for our small crop of characters. We are also never given enough insight into the two star-crossed lovers that Hampshire and Petrovitch portray, since their dialog is pretentious and meandering, (before Petrovitch stops speaking verbally altogether halfway through), making their ordeal rushed and underwritten.
(1973)
Dir - Peter Sykes
Overall: MEH
An old dark house throwback nyuck-fest that is lacking in laughs, The House in Nightmare Park, (Crazy House, The House of the Laughing Dead), has Frankie Howerd stumbling around a spacious mansion after being invited there by an eccentric family for reasons that of course revolve around a family fortune that everyone wants to get their greedy hands on. While Howerd is not the least funny "bonehead falls down" comedian that jolly ole England had to offer, he is far from the best. His character is not stupid enough to be grating, but he is not likeable enough to be charming, instead coming off somewhere in the lukewarm middle. Clive Exton and Terry Nation's script is too formulaic to keep the yawns at bay, but to be fair, some of the gags and throwaway lines of dialog are amusing if one can steer off the boredom long enough to catch them. There is also a head-scratching scene where Ray Milland and the rest of his oddball family put on a mime performance in clown make-up; a scene that is of no significance to the plot in any way shape or form. Since there is no mystery and just a drawn-out charade to try and find out where some diamonds are buried, the entire story could have been told in about twenty minutes instead of a hundred of them. At least Ian Wilson's cinematography has some agency to it, turning the Pinewood Studio interiors into a fun Gothic abode.
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