Schizo

Walker made some good horror films in the seventies. Written by the ubiquitous McGillivray. It throws in everything but the kitchen sink. Mind you the really shock of the film is Jack Watson in a ginger syrup.

By the time Pete Walker made this little slasher-shocker he seemed to have run out of good ideas. The attacks on the courts, family and church had now been made and what could he do now? How about some sort of case-study about schizofrenia? It might have worked, but mr Walker plays his cards too soon in this movie and makes the ending show a mile ahead. With the element of a "who-is-it" suspense gone, what is there left? Some surprisingly gory murders that could shock even todays jaded audience and probably scared the wits out of them in the 70's, decent performances for a horror movie (director Walker almost always managed to get the best out of his average-talented actresses) and an overall smooth running picture. Enjoyable as a timekiller (there are many, many worse slashers than this) but easily forgotten.

Pete Walker's "Schizo" is a commendable take on the at the time yet to be defined stalker/slasher genre and it even has some Giallo undertones. But sadly, the film itself isn't anything too exciting. Samantha is a successful ice skater and she's getting married. After the marriage, the trouble begins as she's being followed & stalked by a strange person from her own past. Soon enough dead bodies - all friends and acquaintances of Samantha - start popping up everywhere. Walker brings his own style to the picture, presenting us a handful of gruesome killings and some female nudity along the side. But his directing efforts can't help a screenplay that's too talkative for its own good and a plot that's simply too predictable. The ending is satisfactory, so "Schizo" surely isn't a waste of time for true fans of the genre.

SCHIZO

Aspect ratio: 1.85:1

Sound format: Mono

A young figure skater (Lynne Frederick) is stalked by a convicted killer (Jack Watson), recently paroled from prison, whose appearance coincides with a series of vicious murders.

Typical entry from British sleaze specialist Pete Walker (FRIGHTMARE), taking its cue from the giallo shockers popular throughout continental Europe at the time. Less confrontational than some of Walker's previous outings ("It was less Gothique... I wanted less incident and outrage," he explained to journalist Alan Jones in 1983), SCHIZO still delivers the gory goods, though it takes rather too long to work up a decent head of steam. Climactic dividends are reaped by a steady accumulation of narrative details, but individual scenes are somewhat labored, not helped by Frederick's lack of presence in the leading role. By contrast, Stephanie Beacham (DRACULA A.D. 1972) is utterly charming as a family friend who turns detective when Frederick identifies Watson as her stalker - had the roles been reversed, this could have been a small masterpiece of psychological horror. Other stand-outs include veteran character actor Watson (recognizable from brief appearances in countless British movies, here given a much weightier role than usual), and a bearded John Fraser ("The Trials of Oscar Wilde") as a psychiatrist who pays the price for digging too deeply into the circumstances surrounding the death of Frederick's mother.

Aware of his own directorial limitations, Walker always allowed clever scriptwork to dictate his method, but he was no hack, as SCHIZO ably demonstrates. Here, his point-and-shoot style is punctuated by moments of genuine visual dexterity, such as the circling of a pen on a newspaper article which gives way (via dissolve) to a spinning ice-skater, or the truly unsettling séance during which medium Trisha Mortimer manifests physical signs of possession by one of the killer's former victims. The subsequent murders are blunt and bloody, with no pretence to subtlety. Peter Jessop's artful cinematography and Chris Burke's sensitive art direction make a virtue of the film's seedy locations, and while a good fifteen minutes could have been cut from the overlong narrative (most of the film's highlights are confined to the second half), editor Alan Brett manages to streamline an increasingly complicated scenario with some degree of panache.

Screenwriter David McGillivray parted company with Walker after this one, due partly to the quality of the script (based on an old work by Murray Smith, author of Walker's earlier films), which McGillivray felt was too transparent, and rendered the killer's identity obvious from the outset. Maybe so, but some of the climactic revelations still pack a hell of a punch. Bottom line: If you're a fan of Walker's output or British exploitation in general, you'll overlook the film's slow-burning tempo and enjoy its outlandish plot developments. Worth a look.

Samantha (Lynne Frederick) is a celebrity ice skater whose fabulous life includes media coverage of her marriage plans. Too bad that William Haskin (Jack Watson)--convicted of killing Samantha's mother (Wendy Gilmore)--reads the newspapers. Samantha's a neurotic mess herself, so nobody really believes her when she says she's being stalked--until, that is, the body count starts going up.

Speaking of bodies, Frederick's and Gilmore's are on full display.

Schizo is like an Italian Giallo; there is plenty of blood and nudity.

The first half of the film is the setup and it drags a bit, but things get going and it is a fun ride even though I suspect that we are being set up for a twisted ending.

And, boy did we get one.