The Shout

... interesting one, this. Possibly one of the best films made. Sumptuous music, courtesy of Messrs Banks & Rutherford. Idyllic Devon locations. Hot, liquid afternoons; a game of cricket watched by 'mad' trees, the air punctuated by the cries of peacocks and a terrifying story of a man from the outback, who exercised the right to kill his children and who can kill anyone with the Terror Shout. A man (Alan Bates) who infiltrates the lives of a couple who live in a remote cottage by a rocky coast. A man who takes the wife (Susannah York) as his own property leaving the husband (John Hurt) utterly powerless, until he finds the man's soul trapped in a pebble. The shout itself is extremely well done and it sends shivers down the spine as a maelstrom of noise hits the senses. The ending brings both the story and the the cricket game together in spectacular fashion. At the close of play, you realize you've witnessed a straight horror story that is grounded in mundane reality. Mmmm...

Previous commentators have remarked upon the similarity of the framing story of this film (that reunites the author and star of 'I Claudius') to 'The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari'; but no one yet seems to have noticed the resemblance to Pasolini's 'Teorema', in which Terence Stamp rocks the boat of a bourgeois household with a similar mystical droit du seigneur to that exercised by Alan Bates over a youthful John Hurt's luscious wife Susannah York (who at one point has a remarkably feral nude scene on all fours), despite his unkempt appearance and army greatcoat that recall Davies from 'The Caretaker' more than Bates' earlier saturnine romantic leads.

Most reviewers seem also to be taking this tall tale of bucolic rumpy pumpy with more of a straight face than it's actual makers may have been. But it clearly needs to be seen (and listened to) more than once.

Anthony and his wife Rachel (John Hurt and Susannah York) invite a bizarre drifter named Charles (Alan Bates) into their home for lunch. Charles claims to have spent the last 18 months in the Australian outback. He also says that he's acquired the ability to kill by merely shouting.

Anthony doubts the story, so, Charles takes him out and proves it to him. Unfortunately for Rachel, Charles has even more wickedness up his sleeve.

THE SHOUT is a magnificently odd little film about magic, madness, and death. It's told via flashback in a mental institution.

Highly recommended for fans of the dark and different... Be sure to watch for Tim Curry!

During a cricket game in the grounds of an asylum, patient Charles Crossley is telling a story to his opposite scorekeeper Robert. He tells of how he came across musician Anthony Fielding outside church one day, and he invited back home for dinner. Over dinner he tells Anthony and his wife Rachael that of his last two decades of living in the Australian outback, where he learned many spells from the aboriginal witch doctors and one being the shout. It can cause instant death when heard. Soon Charles settles into the homestead, where he has Anthony and Rachael under his thumb, as he fears him and she's infatuated by him.

Weird, baffling and truly novel passes through my mind whenever I watch this sedately complex, courageous and alienating late 70's British experimental thriller. The way it has layer upon layer, goes on to ambitiously build a minor and gripping structure, which its inspired psychological strangle hold and mystical air takes shape as to how genuine the pieces are and if they do come together. Does it make sense? Well, it's hard to say what the bigger picture means, but it is indeed curiously haunting, daunting and truly unpredictable. The non-linear story and compact script chips away with plenty of cryptic messages inter-cutting the soft, dream-like touch brought on by director Jerzy Skolimowski. He gives the film such an hypnotic appeal amongst its arty brushes, where its swirling electronic score peaks in the right places and Mick Molloy's sublime framing emits elegant photography work. Those scenes involving the 'shout' are lethal, and only increase to the lurking eeriness created by top-notch sound FX. Visually the film has a powerful, isolated and lush setting that works with the story's spiritual and supernatural journey. The three lead performances are sensational, but it's Alan Bates who dominates the show with his startling and obscure turn as the tramp/patient. John Hurt as the downtrodden turned bewitched composer gives in a stellar performance and Susanna York, as his wife is also great. The talented Tim Curry shows up in a small, but effective role.

Quite an unusual puzzle, which is strangely compelling, unique and very well made.

I saw this film for the first time when I was just 17 years old and it made an impression which has lasted another 25 yrs. I just cant forget it. To this day, I cannot think of another film which captures so much about the isolation of English civility from the raw power of tribal beliefs, and to bring them together in the gentility and peace of a rural Devon setting.. even the "Wicker Man" fails to gain such potency as it is set in what is from the beginning contrived to be island cultures.. remote from civil society, whereas "The Shout" is both in your face, while (as a 1970's film) hauntingly suggestive of unspoken fears and longings. As such it speaks of the era within which it was made, a time of fragile contentment and almost subversive experimentation with.. other ways of viewing the world. Bates and York's performances are also totally believable which contrasted with the other-worldly nature of the setting and story make it compelling viewing. As another review stated.. I believe this to be a thoroughly underrated film, while for me at least definitely.. a classic.