Le tueur frappe à sept heures

... and in fact, it really is not a rip off of that film at all. A man, Charles (Grant Williams), calls the police department each time he is planning to kill, and in fact, tells them what time he plans to do so. He then kills - not a woman - but some random older man on the street with a single puncture through the heart with an ice pick.

After the murder the man then goes off to his regular 7PM therapy session. The guy is a good looking yet nondescript presence. And he has a thing for the therapist's receptionist (Shirley Knight) who happens to be the therapist's niece. There are a couple of scenes where he shows her how he feels with rather creepy approaches - at least that is how it would seem today.

This film was made by Warner Brothers, and I thought that odd at first because the film does not get its 7 stars from me for its production values. The indoor shots are pure poverty row, but the acting and the unexpected plot turns are well done. What to look for? Look at the bustling night scenes on city streets when it was safe to just walk down the street alone - well, except for the main character - and there were tons of mom and pop department stores. One even advertises "Eyeglasses on a Payment Plan". One laugh out loud moment? When we are first introduced to the receptionist, she is wearing the oddest looking dress I have ever seen. The bodice of the dress comes up in the front to give the impression her breasts are hanging out, even though she is modestly clothed! Guaranteed to get you the attention of a maniac! Featuring Onslow Stevens' last film appearance as the therapist.

Recommended because it is not only interesting, it is different!

Don't be too misled by the promising names of co-authors Blake Edwards ("The Pink Panther", "Breakfast at Tiffany's") and Robert Bloch ("Psycho"), since this is a mostly dull and endlessly talkative thriller; - as sleep-inducing as the title suggests. Prior to going to his therapist sessions at 7pm, Charles commits a vicious stabbing murder out in the crowded city-center streets of Los Angeles. He phones the homicide department in advance, randomly selects a poor victim, and then vanishes in the tumultuous aftermath. While police sirens and panic gathers around the scene of the crime, Charles is quietly telling Dr. Janz about his anxieties and childhood traumas. He's not too traumatized to seduce the doctor's gorgeous niece/secretary, though!

The basic idea is great, and "The Couch" also starts out promising, with immediately the first sinister call to the police and the subsequent murder of a man who's just a spectator of a streets' salesman. Things go downhill very fast from there, though, mostly because lead actor Grant Williams is unable to come across as both menacing and pitiable simultaneously. A role like this requires to be creepy even when he's talking about his issues in therapy, or wooing the naïve young lady, but Williams can't achieve this. In fact, he's only genuinely menacing throughout the act of the first murder! For the next ones, he's nervous and unprepared, which makes him one of the weakest serial killers in film history. It's actually rather hilarious that you telephone the homicide department claiming, full of self-confidence, that a murder will take place at exactly 7pm, and that you then find yourself racing around town because you can't find a suitable victim. The finale is excessively overlong and disappointing.

The most interesting thing about this movie to me is the carefully orchestrated camerawork by Harold E. Stine, the way scenes are blocked and lit to produce a sense of restriction in this story of a serial killer played by Grant Williams. William is under court-ordered psychotherapy by William Leslie, who can't figure out what to make of him. Williams is also carrying on a Production-Code-compliant affair with Shirley Knight, Leslie's niece, when he's not going out to shove an ice pick through the back of a random stranger on a crowded Los Angeles street at precisely 7PM.

Given that the script is by Robert Bloch, there's little doubt that the research was good. Times have changed, however, and we now unhappily know a lot more about the psychology of serial killers than the simplistic motive ascribed here. Within that context, the performances are good, and the can-they-catch-him story is good, but it's more a subdued example of Grand Guignol -- only without the blood, because of the Code.

In 1962, Blake Edwards directed the amazing Experiment In Terror, one of his rare violent thrillers. That same year, he also wrote with his uncle Owen Crump the subject of The Couch. And the script was written by Robert Bloch between Psycho and Strait-Jacket. Owen Crump was formerly a documentary director in the army, The Couch is his first movie for cinema.

The script is really exciting, having Grant Williams killing in crowds and being more and more risky. And Grant Williams is nastily convincing.

I do agree with another reviewer, The Couch deserves better cinematography, like Jo Biroc, and maybe The Couch would have been more nervous. But we have a scary story of a powerful killer with a very strong Grant Williams. The ending is frighteningly apocalyptic.

And it is now available on DVD, so jump and catch.

But I sadly think it will remain unknown.

This oddball movie has an interesting plot: a psychopath commits murders between appointments to see his psychiatrist, taunting police with phone calls before each murder. Williams (best known for his 1950s sci-fi roles) is quite good as the killer, and Knight does her usual good acting job as the psychiatrist's assistant and the love interest. This film captures the mood of the early 1960s quite well but is nearly defeated by the harshest, most shadowy use of set lighting I've ever seen. Interesting conclusion takes place in a hospital, with--naturally--bright blinking lights. With better cinematography, this movie could have been a minor classic. Still worth catching for Williams' performance and the football game sequence.