Review of Peeping Tom (1960) by Todd J — 11 Jan 2008

Michael Powell sets a psychopath with a tripod knife after young vixens in sixties London. That premise alone should be enough to get you a bit interested in this high-class horror/social studies flick.

But really, Peeping Tom is a whole lot more than that. And it all centers around Karlheinz Böhm's performance as Mark. Perhaps the most provocative thing about Peeping Tom is that it places the psychopath as not only the story's center but as a genuine protagonist.

The performance, obviously, is key to managing this kind of technique, and Böhm carries the necessary combination of reserve, naivety, and lurking violence that the character needs for the entire idea to be effective.

Of course, that's not to take away from Powell's invigorating direction, utilizing techniques like first-person camera for the memorable opening and then directing the thing with an old-fashioned, pragmatic, yet never boring array of compositions.

But perhaps just as vital to the production is Leo Marks' tight, coherent, and well-balanced screenplay. The talent at hand here becomes most clear when the subplot scenes involving a potential romance between Mark and his neighbor unfold.

They're nothing revolutionary, but they're very quaint and nice (Anna Massey has to be commended in a large part for that because she takes a character that on paper sounds a bit unrealistic..

.after all, who falls in love with dudes like Mark? But the way the character is handled completely sells it). Unfortunately, the background information for Mark's mania isn't quite as successful.

Although the crazy psychologist father's experiments involving fear might be interesting, the familiarity of this kind of plot device seems a bit too B-movie-ish for such a class production. Also, the link between Mark's goal and his earlier abuse seems to me very unlike.

Finally, Mark's timidity and fearful boyishness in social situations involving the neighbor fit right in with his character, but in scenes involving his models, he's like a Don Juan. I suppose we could suggest that this characteristic could be read as him overcoming his fear for the murder or maybe these moments exist because of his otherwise fearful nature, but the abruptness of the switch to the playboy role and way that Böhm plays these moments leads me to consider it a bit lazy.

That said, all such complaints are lost when one considers the damaging permanent trauma that Mark sitting alone in his screening room gave this reviewer. **** out've *****.