Schizo

British cult film-maker Pete Walker's "Schizo" is quite a blunt, if nastily grimy little psycho shocker (with giallo touches) that doesn't provide much in the way of story surprises, but cements a growing sense of unease that's broken up by constant its unpleasantness.

Samantha is an international ice-skater who's about to marry. This should be a happy time in her life; however she gets the feeling that someone is stalking her. Someone from her past, she would like to forget about. However that's hard to do when dead bodies start piling up and she believes it to be the man that slashed her mother to death, but no one seems to believe her.

The ensemble cast bestows some strong performances, especially in its support with standouts like the gorgeous Stephanie Beacham and a cynical John Frazer. Even Jack Watson had a creepy presence about him. A sound turn by Lynne Frederick in the lead covering a neurotic side and John Leyton is acceptable as her husband. Walker sturdily strings together the taut set-pieces with his leering, but expressive camera-work. The narrative keeps everything rather shady, building an edgy psychological imprint with its stalk and slash structure. The script stays interesting (despite never being too revealing) and playing around with a sense of paranoia (stress used as an excuse), but the red herrings are too obvious to be effective, so when it comes to the double whammy it doesn't pack much of a blow or is particularly credible. Stanley Myers' unhinged music score is jaunty, but extremely haunting and disorienting in its spells.

Nice cover artwork on the VHS case, but it does give a subtle clue to where the story might just head.

Walker made some good horror films in the seventies. Written by the ubiquitous McGillivray. It throws in everything but the kitchen sink. Mind you the really shock of the film is Jack Watson in a ginger syrup.

SCHIZO

Aspect ratio: 1.85:1

Sound format: Mono

A young figure skater (Lynne Frederick) is stalked by a convicted killer (Jack Watson), recently paroled from prison, whose appearance coincides with a series of vicious murders.

Typical entry from British sleaze specialist Pete Walker (FRIGHTMARE), taking its cue from the giallo shockers popular throughout continental Europe at the time. Less confrontational than some of Walker's previous outings ("It was less Gothique... I wanted less incident and outrage," he explained to journalist Alan Jones in 1983), SCHIZO still delivers the gory goods, though it takes rather too long to work up a decent head of steam. Climactic dividends are reaped by a steady accumulation of narrative details, but individual scenes are somewhat labored, not helped by Frederick's lack of presence in the leading role. By contrast, Stephanie Beacham (DRACULA A.D. 1972) is utterly charming as a family friend who turns detective when Frederick identifies Watson as her stalker - had the roles been reversed, this could have been a small masterpiece of psychological horror. Other stand-outs include veteran character actor Watson (recognizable from brief appearances in countless British movies, here given a much weightier role than usual), and a bearded John Fraser ("The Trials of Oscar Wilde") as a psychiatrist who pays the price for digging too deeply into the circumstances surrounding the death of Frederick's mother.

Aware of his own directorial limitations, Walker always allowed clever scriptwork to dictate his method, but he was no hack, as SCHIZO ably demonstrates. Here, his point-and-shoot style is punctuated by moments of genuine visual dexterity, such as the circling of a pen on a newspaper article which gives way (via dissolve) to a spinning ice-skater, or the truly unsettling séance during which medium Trisha Mortimer manifests physical signs of possession by one of the killer's former victims. The subsequent murders are blunt and bloody, with no pretence to subtlety. Peter Jessop's artful cinematography and Chris Burke's sensitive art direction make a virtue of the film's seedy locations, and while a good fifteen minutes could have been cut from the overlong narrative (most of the film's highlights are confined to the second half), editor Alan Brett manages to streamline an increasingly complicated scenario with some degree of panache.

Screenwriter David McGillivray parted company with Walker after this one, due partly to the quality of the script (based on an old work by Murray Smith, author of Walker's earlier films), which McGillivray felt was too transparent, and rendered the killer's identity obvious from the outset. Maybe so, but some of the climactic revelations still pack a hell of a punch. Bottom line: If you're a fan of Walker's output or British exploitation in general, you'll overlook the film's slow-burning tempo and enjoy its outlandish plot developments. Worth a look.

By the time Pete Walker made this little slasher-shocker he seemed to have run out of good ideas. The attacks on the courts, family and church had now been made and what could he do now? How about some sort of case-study about schizofrenia? It might have worked, but mr Walker plays his cards too soon in this movie and makes the ending show a mile ahead. With the element of a "who-is-it" suspense gone, what is there left? Some surprisingly gory murders that could shock even todays jaded audience and probably scared the wits out of them in the 70's, decent performances for a horror movie (director Walker almost always managed to get the best out of his average-talented actresses) and an overall smooth running picture. Enjoyable as a timekiller (there are many, many worse slashers than this) but easily forgotten.

On one hand, Pete Walker's psychological horror Schizo is a pretty fun time-waster, boasting decent performances, some delightfully gruesome killings (best of all being a knitting needle in the head—implausible but cool), and a touch of nudity courtesy of its lovely star Lynne Frederick, who plays Samantha, a recently married premier ice skater who finds herself terrorised by menacing weirdo William Haskins, recently released from jail for the brutal murder of Samantha's mother.

On the other hand, the film is a little bit too long for its own good, stretching its rather thin story-line to breaking point, and you would have to be crazier than this movie's killer not to work out who is responsible for its bloody murders: given the film's blatant title, Walker's final twist is far too easy to guess, making this a far less effective thriller than it otherwise might have been.

Ultimately tipping things in its favour are Walker's assured direction, a decent supporting turn from Hammer babe Stephanie Beacham, some unnecessary but entertaining occult nonsense, and an unmissable appearance by the world's most hideous wallpaper design (at least four designs in one, all of them horrible).

6.5 out of 10, rounded up to 7 for IMDb.