Whistle and I'll Come to You

"Whistle and I'll Come to You" is a real oddity.

This video was released by the BFI as part of its new Archive TV series along with "The Stone Tape". While "The Stone Tape" is instantly accessible sci-fi drama this is a different story altogether.

Written by M.R. James, "Whistle" tells the rather sad story of a bachelor lecturer who enjoys a holiday by the sea. While out on his travels, the man comes across an old wooden whistle which he proceeds to blow. From this point forward his nights are restless, his dreams full of weird visions of something chasing him.

This paranormal drama is well directed by Johnathan Miller on wonderfully grainy 16mm film. Indeed the stock is so scratchy as to render the sheet, chasing the professor along the beach, almost unrecognisable.

Michael Horden's wonderfully understated performance complements the stark, dreary beach scenes very well. Horden, playing here an introverted bachelor with no capacity for conversation, is a revelation, particularly in the chilling final scene which cleverly mixes slow-mo film with distorted sound effects.

"Whistle" certainly takes a while to get used to. In this day and age, a film with such a slow pace would never get released and it's more or less over before it's started, but give it a shot and watch and re-watch to appreciate this mysterious gem.

This was the first in a series of BBC adaptations of M.R. James's famous ghost stories, and was directed by Jonathan Miller for the equally famous Omnibus productions. It was followed by a sequence that were made more or less on an annual basis through the 1970s, and the BFI has issued them all in a very attractive box set.

Miller, and Michael Hordern as his lead actor, did a great job and this film still grips the viewer. It holds its own as a ghost story and the recreation of a Norfolk hotel and its staff and guests is impressive. Jonathan Miller discusses the film in a short interview though he has disappointingly little to say about it. Unfortunately the same quality evaded the later films, most of which were directed by Lawrence Gordon Clark. He produced much more workmanlike versions lacking the original camera shots and telling atmosphere that Miller achieved in 1968. But some are better than others and Clark did work with some good actors. Of the last entry in the 1970s run, The Ice House, directed by Derek Lister, the less said the better. The same applies to the misguided attempt to make a new version of 'Oh whistle' in 2010.

A university professor, arrogantly believing he holds all the answers to life, the universe and everything, faces the ultimate horror during a vacation at a quiet coastal village in Norfolk when he encounters something beyond all rational explanation.

'Oh Whistle And I'll Come To You, My Lad' was my introduction to the world of M.R James through the medium of this wonderful t.v adaptation. It encapsulates perfectly the James mode of storytelling, and through the excellent directorship of Jonathan Miller, expertly brings to life the chilling short story written decades earlier.

Miller seems to grasp the author's approach to drama effortlessly. James belongs to the old school of literary macabre, where, like Lovecraft, the horror derives from what is unseen save for a few tantalising details. Much of the drama is down to the buildup of suspense and atmosphere and the audience is largely left to draw their own conclusions in the theatre of the mind. This is precisely what we get in the teleplay, shot on location in Norfolk, where the scenery and incidental sounds do much of the work. This is especially important given that the lead character, self-assured and largely solitary, does not engage in a great deal of dialogue. The less-is-more approach is wonderfully effective: much of the tension comes from nightmarish dreamscapes and strange objects tantalisingly kept in the distance, and the lack of continuing verbal commentary allows for wonder and suspense to build to great effect. And indeed the true horror is psychological: that which cannot be qualified, a true terror to one who thinks they have reality fully understood. The monochromatic nature of the film lends to the bleak and cold surroundings of the Norfolk coastline, although as viewers were to find in the BBC's next James adaptation, 'A Warning To The Curious', full colour is by no means more comforting.

Headlining the cast is the legendary Michael Hordern, a good deal older than the Professor Parkins of the text, which unfortunately loses the idea of arrogance in one so young, but Hordern is such perfect casting and fits the character so well that you can forgive the change. The other principal lead of the Colonel, played with great understatement by Ambrose Coghill, also finds his part reduced in the teleplay, although his chief role as the person who suggests to Perkins that the realm of knowledge may be greater than he thinks, is crucially intact. Indeed, I may just be nitpicking - Miller's assured hand preserves the essentials of the storyline and ensures that things move at a consistent pace, realising the ambiguous supernatural elements with skill to a satisfying conclusion.

Any fan of classic horror would be doing themselves a disservice to pass on this marvellous visual retelling of one of M.R James's most celebrated ghost stories. Inevitably, it will be remade someday, but I will be very surprised if anyone can top Jonathan Miller's wonderful monochrome masterpiece.

Professor Parkins travels to a remote guest house on the English coast to be able to continue to find peace and quiet for his studies and contemplations. Enjoying his daily walks out onto the cliffs and dunes, Parkins finds himself lost in thought regularly, stimulated in part by lively discussions each morning with another guest over what is a remarkably good breakfast. As his stay continues though, he starts to lose himself more and more into his own thoughts and existence.

A strange film this one. Repeated recently as part of BBC4's ghost story season of films running up to Christmas, it is preceded by a rather dry introduction due to it having originally been part of the Omnibus series of films back in the sixties. From here on in nothing much happens, which is pretty much the point. We see Parkins become more and more isolated within himself and the suggestion is that there is another presence which is assisting him in this but it isn't totally clear. In this regard I found the film a little frustrating but what saved it was the atmosphere and delivery.

In this regard it is very strong and quite creepy. Instead of being about ghosts it is actually about Parkins' mind as he struggles to deal with the things he experiences at the edge of consciousness. This is shown in the final shot and, although a tad dull, it does make for an engaging subject. The scares are a credit to the delivery because they come from little more than sound effects and lighting. Parkins is chased on a beach by little more than a loose sheet and it is very eerie, while the final haunting is just creepy. Hordern's performance is key and he nails it throughout, slipping more into absent mindedness and visibly struggling with himself. The direction is also strong but for me it is Hordern that makes it.

Overall a dull but yet rewarding ghost story. The focus on Parkins' mind is interesting and the simple scares are well delivered to maximise their impact; slow it may be but it is still engaging stuff.

I couldn't approach this with quite the level of enthusiasm as some of the others here after just one watch. I decided to watch it a second time and then I began to pick up on more, and thus began to appreciate it more. It may be too slowly paced and subtle for some tastes, but I think the majority of horror fans will find it a rewarding 42-minute view, if only for three very creepy sequences, the desolate locations and Dick Bush's gorgeous, haunting black-and-white photography. It opens with brief voice over narration that gives us a little history on source author James as well as an overview of his story, which is said to have been written as a warning about the dangers of "intellectual pride." Professor Parkins (Michael Hordern) is looking for some peace and solitude, so he goes to stay a spell at a quaint little hotel that's close to the ocean. During a trip to the beach he wanders into a small ancient graveyard, finds an old whistle and brings it back to his room. He cleans it and notices an inscription that promises that whoever blows it will be paid a visit... by someone. Being an academic and realist, and thus a supernatural skeptic, Parkins decides to blow the horn despite the warning and ends up getting more than he bargained for.

The first 15 or so minutes are spent with Hordern wandering around the hotel and incoherently mumbling, babbling and groaning to both himself and the staff. On my first watch I found this incredibly irritating and had no clue what the point of it was. Now I realize it was to illustrate his inability to relate to or socialize with "normal" everyday people. To become immersed in academia and intellectual pursuits is often to alienate yourself from the rest of society. After awhile you just can't relate and simple things like basic interaction or making simple casual conversation during a small dinner become awkward and difficult. Though these scenes do have some purpose, I have to admit I felt they were a bit overlong to the point of trying one's patience at times.

However, when it comes to striking and chilling imagery, this one hits a home run on many occasions, which is impressive for a film with such a short run time. As the professor starts to leave the beach after obtaining the whistle, a silhouetted figure stands solemnly behind him as the sun is setting and the waves are crashing. The lack of a music score or a reactionary sound cue makes it even more chilling. There's also a brilliantly set-up nightmare sequence which make excellent use of clipped dialogue and manages to make a piece of cloth horrifying. And then there's the finale, which I won't go into, but it's also pretty darn creepy. The beach locations are excellent, partially because they're not cluttered. Aside from a few poles in the sand and some tall wavering grass blowing in the wind, it's a beautiful yet blank pallet that makes certain images (the mysterious figure, a tombstone) stand out in a striking and ominous way.

Fans of such films as THE INNOCENTS (1961) and A WARNING TO THE CURIOUS (1972) should enjoy what this brings to the table.