Cold Light of Day

Produced by, and with strong ties (no pun intended!) to "Britain's worst director" (and convicted fraudster) Richard Driscoll, this film, which I first saw near its original release in the 90s, has curiously been resurrected from cinema's dustbin for a recent Blu-ray.

Booed off the screen (literally!) upon its limited release in 1990, this fictionalised 'true story' of the Dennis Nilsen serial killer case from north London in the early 80s is told with zero subtlety or respect. Massively re-adjusting events (for titillation, I'm guessing. For example, 'Nilsen' visits a female prostitute - something which never happened and only seems an excuse to show crude T&A) and the barely-a-feature film includes an insulting, confusing end caption.

It's hard to say what director Fhiona Louise (sometimes styled as Fhiona-Louise -- which is it?!) intended, but the stodgy dialogue and delivery has Driscoll written all over (see, or really don't, any of his other epics like The Comic or Kannibal) and the filmmaking looks like something unsure film students would do, complete with awkward camera half-moves and bit-parters delivering unintentional comedy (a senile neighbour shuffles back to his room like it's a comedy-act and we get lines like "oh s**t!" about a blocked toilet uttered with zero self-awareness).

The whole film only succeeds in capturing the grim reality of Bedsitland at the time (purely by coincidence as many parts of the now gentrified North London were still like that at the time), becoming a period piece in a way.

Ultimately though, it has nothing to say, no care for the victims and generally seems concocted as a quick cash-grab.

Ironically (or why it was rereleased when nobody was asking for it?), a big budget ITV dramatisation of the Nilsen case was also shown in 2020, the same year as Arrow's Blu-ray Special Edition. Unlike Cold Light of Day, it decided to avoid all of the gruesome aspects and position itself as a generic detective drama with a smattering of stock-footage for confusing context.

Those wishing to find out more about the real case are better off seeking out the thorough book Killing for Company.

There's also a BBC Two short film from the late 80s called (viewable on YouTube) called The Monochrome Man which says far more - with much greater assuredness and panache - than this amateurish film ever could.

"Cold Light of Day" follows a middle-aged man in London who begins preying on street punks and homeless men, bringing them back to his apartment where he inevitably kills them (before doing other horrible things).

Based on the crimes of Dennis Nilsen, this little-seen no-budget effort is a lot better than you might expect it to be. On one hand, it is very "student film"-ish, which is not necessarily surprising given that its writer-director was only 21 years old when it was released. That being said, this is quite an impressive debut, especially for someone of that age.

While not exactly an enjoyable viewing experience, there is something oddly compelling about the film; the narrative is pretty standard for this type of fare (killer recounts crimes in flashback, rinse and repeat), but a dour, gritty sensibility permeates every frame here, and the effect is powerful. An ominous, repetitive musical score adds to the mood (mixed with a never-ending heartbeat effect) amicably, and the performances are quite solid, despite what some of the other reviewers have written. The special effects are also respectable. The only legitimate problem I had with the the film is that it does not really have a fitting conclusion, which does leave a bit to be desired.

That said, this is a fairly potent effort that paints the life of a killer in shades of pallid grey. "Cold Light of Day", though not revolutionary, is a dour and straightforward look into a world of tormented people, some predators, and some prey. Despite its student film-ish shortcomings, it is a fairly well made crime-horror hybrid. 6/10.

Between 1978 and 1983, Dennis Nilsen - an outwardly unremarkable former soldier and police officer turned civil servant - killed at least fifteen men and boys (most of them students or homeless) in gruesome circumstances, allegedly retaining the corpses for sex acts before disposing of the butchered remains by hiding them in cupboards, under the floorboards, or simply by flushing them down the toilet. This grimy, clammy, little-seen independent film is a lightly fictionalised account of Nilsen's hideous deeds, with a standout performance from Bob Flag as the milquetoast murderer, here renamed Jorden March.

Fhiona Louise's film, clearly made on a shoestring budget, steers clear of exploitation tactics, choosing instead to cast its characters adrift in a singularly bleak, uncaring and desolate world of tatty pubs, squalid bed-sits, greasy cafés and grubby bathrooms. The police interrogation of March is inter-cut with flashbacks that reveal not just his crimes (a living room disembowelment and the discovery of what's blocking the drains will send a shiver down the spines of even the hardiest souls) but also provide a window of understanding into what has tipped the apparently kindly loner over the edge. Louise's direction is unobtrusive and detached, allowing the lengthy exchanges between the characters to play out in several lengthy takes, but it's this cold, flat, cinema-verité style that affords the proceedings much of their chilling power, conveying the sense that such horrors really could be unfolding in the street, or even the house, just around the corner.

It's an easy film to admire - it won several awards - but it's not an easy film to watch, let alone enjoy. As a fitting footnote, a caption card dedicates the preceding horrors to "those too sensitive for this world" - which, in his own perverse and twisted way, Nilsen surely was.

"Cold Light Of Day" is more of a dramatisation than a film; fairly short, it explores the psychology of one of modern Britain's monsters. Dennis Nilsen murdered twelve, possibly more, young men, purely for his own gratification. A necrophiliac as well as a sexual sadist, his fascination with death is believed to have sprung from the death of his grandfather, that is if we can believe anything he said.

We see flashbacks to his boyhood but the film concentrates on his picking up his victims and murdering them. There is also an attempt to humanise him by showing his acts of kindness to an elderly neighbour. To which the best reply is so what? Ted Bundy actually worked on a suicide prevention helpline.

The names have been changed, which is understandable for victims and incidental characters, but was it necessary to change Nilsen's name to Jorden March? Lead actor Bob Flag bears a striking resemblance to Nilsen - hopefully only a physical one! - and it is easy to see why this ultra-low budget effort picked up a prize at the 1990 Venice Film Festival.

One has to admire the balls it took to make this movie. For a start, the atmosphere is cloying and intense, and if you've taken the time to track this movie down then chances are you probably know a little bit about it. Based on the crimes of British serial Killer Dennis Nielson, cold light of day is a slice of docu-drama little like anything you've ever seen before. i saw this on video in its 75 minute entirety, and it is a difficult movie to sit through. It makes you feel so uncomfortable, and tries, in its own way to present its characters with some compassion, but they are all so cold and pathetic that you squirm in your seat and wait for it to end. It took me a long time to track this little gem down, and it has had a couple of releases in the UK throughout the 1990's, but its a hard film to watch. Certainly a must for serial killer movie buffs or anyone interested in lensing their first movie, cold light of day is awkward and, in several places, downright unpleasant. Henry Portrait of a serial killer was gruesome, Cold Light of Day is a shiver than runs down your spine in the dead of night.