The Fiend

The Fiend, a 1972 British horror film directed by Robert Hartford-Davis, is a gruesome and grisly affair that embraces the sexploitation vibes of the early '70s. With a backdrop of religious fanaticism, this flick tries to shock and awe with its blend of murder, manipulation, and moral mayhem. But does it succeed? Well, let's just say it's a hell of a ride, even if it's not exactly a holy roller.

Kicking things off with a bang, The Fiend quickly devolves into a tedious trudge through tiresome encounters and dull supporting characters. It's like a TV movie that randomly cuts to scenes of violence and nudity to keep viewers awake. The story meanders and struggles to find its footing, but the cast does their damnedest to keep things afloat. Ann Todd and Patrick Magee bring their A-game to this B-movie, even as the odds are stacked against them. The real stars, though, might just be the itchy police uniforms and hip threads worn by the younger cast-a fun, fibrous fashion show amidst the fiendish festivities.

The film's technical aspects are a mixed bag. The AVC-encoded image is a blessing, offering a detailed view of the set decoration, from the Brethren church to the characters' homes. You can practically feel the fabric of the costumes and see the evil in every macabre murder. But the direction is as flat as week-old soda, lacking the fizz needed to make this a true cult classic. The film feels disjointed, with ugly, staccato close-ups that disrupt the flow.

The Fiend is like a rollercoaster with a rickety start, a few thrilling peaks, and an underwhelming conclusion. It's not a film that will haunt your dreams, but it might keep you entertained on a gloomy night. With a runtime of 98 minutes (or 87 if you watch the edited version), it's a commitment that could've benefited from a tighter script. Overall, it's a gory good time that falls just short of greatness, earning a respectable 5 out of 10 rating.

So, if you're in the mood for a blast from the past that's bloody, bizarre, and a bit of a bumpy ride, give The Fiend a go. Just don't expect to be converted to its cult following.

This is one of the more notable British horror films from the early 1970s, a stylish and generally accomplished mix of religion, psycho-drama, music and exploitation. The opening cross-cutting between a prayer meeting – accentuated by a powerful gospel song – and a vicious murder is so stunning that the rest of the film actually struggles to live up to it, though the ending – appropriately over-the-top – is worth waiting for. Thematically, the film anticipates Pete Walker's equally good HOUSE OF MORTAL SIN aka THE CONFESSIONAL (1975) – but here we get the added bonus of a typically intense performance from Patrick Magee as the religious group's fanatical leader. Ann Todd (the former Mrs. David Lean) is one of his closest collaborators – in fact, her house is a converted church! – but who has to keep her diabetic condition a secret because the intake of insulin is prohibited by her faith! Her son (Tony Beckley), a security guard and part-time swimming instructor and pamphlet distributor, is repressed and unbalanced – and soon revealed to be the serial killer of nubile girls terrorizing the neighborhood (he even records on tape the victims in the throes of death a' la PEEPING TOM [1960]!). Todd's new nurse happens to have a reporter sister (genre regular Suzanna Leigh) who, alerted to the inhabitants' conspicuous Puritanism, concludes that all is not well with the house and decides to investigate. Given the permissive era in which this was made, violence and gratuitous nudity (along with the standard prerequisites associated with such fare) contend for the running-time – and the audience's attention – with a moderately serious treatment of the subject at hand. The end result may not be surprising or even particularly insightful but nonetheless proves wholly absorbing, thanks also to its undeniable surface polish.

Raised by an overbearing mother with diabetes (Ann Todd) and indoctrinated by a religious order called The Brethren, security guard Kenny Wemys (Tony Beckley) takes it upon himself to punish wayward young women by killing them. Meanwhile, nurse Brigitte Lynch (Madeleine Hinde) begins to suspect that something is very wrong in the Wemys house and convinces her sister, newspaper reporter Paddy (Suzanna Leigh), to write an expose on the Brethren.

Anyone who has seen director Robert Hartford-Davis' Corruption knows only too well that he is capable of making a genuine shocker, and Beware My Brethren has, in theory, got what it takes to be another excellent piece of exploitation horror. However, while the scenes featuring Tony Beckley doing 'God's work' tick all of boxes - nudity, violence and general sleaze - there is far too much of the runtime dedicated to the brethren and the sermons of the minister (Patrick Magee), which seriously cause the film to drag.

Had Hartford-Davis cut out at least one of the gospel songs and reduced the amount of preaching, and spent that time on police procedure, the murders, and Paddy's snooping, Beware My Brethren could have been another gem in his filmography. As it stands, it's a missed opportunity that is equal parts entertaining and tedious.

5.5/10, rounded up to 6 for IMDb.

Beware My Brethren (1971): An English fundamentalist church has a small but committed (they should be) congregation. They listen to tapes from their Leader in Arizona. Crazed scenes as they respond to Preacher Patrick Magee who puts in a worthy performance. Amazing how many low budget horror features he starred in along with Pinter and Beckett plays, exploitation movies paying the rent I guess. Anyway one of his flock, Tony Beckley is a few psalms short of a psalter and has become a serial killer. A demented portrayal , not just as he gruesomely dispatches his victims but also as he simultaneously listens to tapes of their pleadings along with his Leader's rants. Some really good editing as the action cuts between a full immersion baptism and the drowning of one of those murdered by Beckley. Production values suffer from a limited budget but it;s certainly worth watching. Directed by Robert Hartford-Davis, written by Brian Comport. On Legend Channel. 6.5/10.

A truly dreadful film, seen during the night on BBC2, but glad I saw it! A fairly comprehensive anti-religion film... anyone who comes into contact with it becomes maniacs! Superb! Notable for yet another Patrick Magee scenery-chewing exercise, a host of unknown actors who remained unknown, and a truly jaw dropping series of appalling songs, sung by the "Shirley Bassey" Stars in their Eyes winner, Maxine Barrie (in her younger days!). Poor dear had to wait over 20 years for public recognition. If I were her, I'd buy all the prints and burn them! Definitely a B-movie for showing in a double bill with some cheapo Hammer concoction, but unintentionally funny in places.