The Psychopath (1966)......barely makes it to 80 minutes, but for horror buffs (and lovers of obscure 60's cinema like us) it's a diverting little piece of Halloween candy with a satisfying nutso ending.
This distinctly British thriller came into the world via American producers Max Rosenberg and Milton Subotsky. They moved across the pond to operate their Amicus production company. For a while through the 1960's, they functioned as something of a rival to the horror house of Hammer.
Amicus gravitated to portmanteau scare-a-thons, featuring multiple short stories within one feature film ("Dr. Terror's House Of Horrors", etc) And sci-fi fans well remember their two "Dr. Who" movies with a doddering, kindly Peter Cushing taking on armies of Daleks rasping 'Exterminate!'
For 'The Psychopath', they turned to prolific pulp novelist and screenwriter Robert Bloch, whose novel 'Psycho' became Hitchcock's you-know-what. And once again, Bloch presented us with a strange young man under the thumb of his very weird, very frightening mother.
Only this time, mom's no stuffed mummy parked in the fruit cellar. She's very much alive and holding a vengeful grudge dating back to the end of World War 2.
Bloch's new mother-from hell is wheelchair bound Mrs. Von Sturm (Margaret Johnston) a once wealthy German aristocrat with a simpering, dutiful son (John Standing). After the war, Mrs. Von S. saw her wealth and property usurped by four members of an Allied tribunal.
And here's an un-surprise......the four men, now middle-aged and well-to-do are droppin' like flies at the hands of a murderer. The fiend favors leaving life-like doll replicas of the victims......and wouldn't you know, Mrs. Von Sturm ekes out a living making life-like dolls.
Hmmmm......sounds like an interesting case for Inspector Holloway (Patrick Wymark, giving his usual smooth comforting delivery).
Renowned cinematographer turned horror director Freddie Francis does his best to whip up a few unsettling moments and scares, but the fast 'n cheap budget doesn't much help him. (Shooting the film in bright color and wide screen Techniscope didn't generate the creepy atmosphere this story needed to come off).
The MVP here? Clearly Margaret Johnston as the mom straight up from the depths of hell. In the film's over-the-top finale, you can almost hear her sneering "Hold my beer" to Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. And whole doll business comes to a truly unforgettable conclusion in the final macabre shot.
No world beater for sure, but for British horror completists, it'll only take up an hour and 20 minutes, so why not?
2 & 1/2 stars (**1/2)
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