Schalcken the Painter

I saw it and taped it when it went out and have never forgotten it. Sadly that was on Betamax in a former life. I agree entirely with everyone's observations on the piece.

And I have seen the original painting. Many years ago I was stood in the doorway of a huge room in an English stately home, listening to the information being given by the guide when I casually glanced to my left.

This was a very warm summer's day but my blood froze. I was resting against a wall covered in paintings and there next to my left elbow was the very painting of the girl shielding the candle, with her ghastly suitor's face in the shadows...

I can't remember which house it was though it might have been Woodstock near Oxford. But I will never forget that shock! The piece, from the Omnibus series, does still exist as a print so there is still hope...

Only the BBC has the ability to outdo great writers, and even then, only rarely (Ashenden was one example, Jeeves and Wooster another). Here is one of the best examples: a classic BBC TV play adapted from J. Sheridan LeFanu's chilling short story of the same name.

The atmosphere of this TV film is incredibly disturbing, and the cast and crew all do a brilliant job to recreate one of the most chilling stories of gothic literature. Godfried Schalcken was a real painter who studied under Gerrit Dou in Leiden (Holland). Schalcken painted figures lit by candlelight, and his paintings are quite atmospheric. It is this dark atmosphere which suffuses LeFanu's work and this TV play. After seeing the movie, I took a trip to Europe, and had the chance to see some of the original paintings. They are brilliant in their depiction of light, shadow, and darkly captivating mood.

The TV play is a kind of allegory and a mystery, in which a young maiden (a rare appearance by the lovely and talented Cheryl Kennedy) is married off to a mysterious suitor and disappears. It falls to Schalcken (played brilliantly by Jeremy Clyde), who had used the girl as a model, to investigate. The horror that he uncovers haunts him (and his subsequent artworks) forever.

Unfortunately, like many late-night TV plays that were prevented from making it to VHS by a reactionary '70s era British VHS censorship debacle (the play features a very brief frontal nude scene, performed quite eerily by Cheryl Kennedy), this TV classic is now apparently lost. It has not been seen on TV for over a decade (as far as I'm aware), and like many '70s BBC masterpieces, seems destined to spend decades completely forgotten in some film vault. We can only hope that someone at the BBC will eventually find it and get the powers that be to release it on DVD or VHS. Hopefully soon!

I agree entirely that Schalken the Painter should be released on video/DVD. I have raved about it for over 20 years to my family, none of whom has had the opportunity to judge for themselves.

And it's such a shame that Cheryl Kennedy has not been seen on screen for much of that time. The narration of Charles Gray is beautifully judged and the interiors are stunningly lit.

Nicely-handled period ghost story (by the renowned Irish author J. Sheridan LeFanu, of "Carmilla" fame) that is somewhat lengthy at 70 minutes; its backdrop of classical Dutch painting is, however, admirably evoked throughout in the subdued and tasteful quality of the photography that also extends to the occasional nudity on display which, given the subject matter, was inevitable. The two notable names within the cast each play principal roles: Maurice Denham – from NIGHT OF THE DEMON (1957) – as Schalcken's mentor and John Justin – from the definitive 1940 version of THE THIEF OF BAGDAD – as the mysterious and wizened rich visitor who barters with the former for the hand of his niece (who is secretly in love with the titular figure). Incidentally, both painters truly existed and, apparently, the story was concocted as a means of explaining the sudden change in Schalcken's style of painting and especially the 'story' behind one particular canvas in which he depicts himself defending the honor of his beloved and about to strike at something vaguely visible with a sword!

I saw this film in 1979 and I never forgot it. The way the scenes are set up after old master paintings. In one scene Rembrandt appears briefly at the door in

wonderful chiaroscuro. The whole film seemed like one moving masterpainting. The horror is the better for being implied as in The turn of the Screw. It is a pity that filmmakers like this are so little known.

I would pay over the odds to get this on DVD. Filmmaking this excellent doesn't happen often enough. I totally agree with

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