Fragment of Fear - 1970 film DVD review

I've become increasingly interested in the work of John Bingham, and as a result I sought out the DVD made of his 1965 novel, A Fragment of Fear. I've not read the book as yet (though I hope to do so before long) but I was tempted by reviews of the DVD of the film version made five years after the book's appearance. The film sounded very appealing, not least because of a terrific cast, led by David Hemmings, who was at his peak at around that time. Hemmings was, like the late Hywel Bennett, an immensely charismatic actor whose career faded somewhat, and who died too young.

The screenplay was written by Paul Dehn, who like Bingham was a former spy (he was also a poet and critic, and his other scripts included Goldfinger and Murder on the Orient Express). The film opens in Italy, with Hemmings chatting to his aunt (played by Flora Robson). He's a reformed drug addict who has recently published a successful book. His aunt is found dead in mysterious circumstances, and a strange message left with a wreath which refers to "the Stepping Stones" intrigues our hero. He falls for an attractive woman (Gayle Hunnicutt), and takes her with him to England, where they plan to get married. But his determination to find out what happened to his aunt soon becomes obsessive.

The suspense builds with some splendidly mysterious plot twists, worthy of Francis Durbridge at his best. Hemmings becomes trapped in a Kafkaesque nightmare, as strange, menacing things happen to him which seem inexplicable. When he tries to explain himself to the police, they suggest he is going mad. Then Whitehall (in the person of Arthur Lowe, of all people) gets involved. What on earth is going on?

The ending of the film is perhaps controversial. Suffice to say that things aren't wrapped up in the classic Durbridge style. Really, this is a film which has to be seen as a product of its time - yes, it's enigmatic, but so was Blow Up, a Hemmings film which made a great impression when I saw it in my teens. But even though I like stories with clever and comprehensive solutions, I'm also a big fan of Franz Kafka's The Trial. And there's a touch of Joseph K. about Hemmings' luckless character.

The Prague Spring

Last week, I managed to achieve a long-held ambition by visiting Prague, and I certainly wasn't disappointed by my all too short trip to the crossroads of Europe. The unexpectedly superb weather was a bonus, but the city is so fabulous that it would be a great destination in any weather.

I studied Franz Kafka when I was doing my A Levels long ago, and I have always enjoyed his work, so a visit to the Kafka Museum was a must. Very good it was, too. And I was amused to find not only a Sherlock Holmes pub, but also a tobacconists' known as Baker Street.

I was struck by the monument to those who suffered when the country was under Commmunist rule. Suffice to say that capitalism has really taken hold of the place now, but it's important to remember the past, especially when, in difficult economic times, many questions are bound to be asked about the way society is run. Questions which, as Kafka intimated a century ago, are not easy to answer.

Above all, I found a visit to the Jewish Quarter unforgettable. The whole area is fascinating, but one thing I'll not easily forget is the synagogue in which are displayed pictures drawn by young children who were held by the Nazis, and almost all of whom were killed in the death camps a year or two later. The hopefulness and humanity of their art work was unbearably poignant. And again, we need these reminders of the past, in order that the mistakes of history are not repeated.

Dark City

Dark City is sometimes described as a thriller, and sometimes as a noir film, and both these descriptions are true, but they are less than the whole truth. Really, it’s a science fiction film, with some of the apparatus of a thriller, and with influences ranging from Franz Kafka to Fritz Lang.

The dark city of the title is one in which people fall asleep mysteriously, and a voiceover from an unappetising psychiatrist (creepily played by Kiefer Sutherland) explains that alien visitors to Earth called ‘Strangers’ used their powers to alter the memories of the planet’s inhabitants.

The action proper begins when John Murdoch (Rufus Sewell) wakes to find that he is accompanied by a murdered woman. It turns out that she is one of six prostitutes to have been killed in the city. Soon he is on the run – but not just from the police. The Strangers are after him, because attempts to fiddle with his memory have gone wrong.

Murdoch forms an uneasy bond with a cop played by the always excellent William Hurt, and seeks to build a relationship with the woman who is said to be the wife who betrayed him. He also tries to understand his own past, and find a place called Shell Beach, where he and his wife first met. But is Shell Beach an illusion?

It’s more than a decade since this beautifully produced and directed film came out, and it seems to have become something of a cult favourite. It’s not the sort of film I often watch, but it made an enjoyable change and I did feel it was an impressive piece of work.