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.

Not really prime Pete Walker; rather an attempt by the director to do a stalker / slasher picture, after the Italian giallo fashion.

Walker does treat us to some surprising and vivid scenes, ample shock moments and a fine use of locations - mid-70s Britain is once again a fascinatingly grim locale, as in some many films of the era! However, the crucial 'twist' is rather poor, straining all credibility that the film had.

The uncannily ubiquitous Jack Watson is actually quite sinister though, and Stephanie Beacham once more plays the very middle-class friend type as in other British horrors of the era. Lynne Frederick - to be wed to Peter Sellers the following year - is another of PW's sexy heroine-in-peril leads and, like many such characters, is not incapable or entirely cardboard. John Leyton, singer of the stupendously eerie Joe Meek-produced #1 hit 'Johnny Remember Me' (1961), is bizarrely cast as Frederick's husband, providing as much screen presence as the elusive Zeppo Marx. Sheila Keith is missing.

While this is a definite retreat from PW's previous nasty fairy tales - "House of Whipcord", - it still has a certain appeal for those who don't mind a bit of well-crafted 1970s exploitation. Those who view films purely in terms of gender politics should obviously stay well clear!

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.

Samantha (Lynne Frederick) is a celebrity ice skater whose fabulous life includes media coverage of her marriage plans. Too bad that William Haskin (Jack Watson)--convicted of killing Samantha's mother (Wendy Gilmore)--reads the newspapers. Samantha's a neurotic mess herself, so nobody really believes her when she says she's being stalked--until, that is, the body count starts going up.

Speaking of bodies, Frederick's and Gilmore's are on full display.

Schizo is like an Italian Giallo; there is plenty of blood and nudity.

The first half of the film is the setup and it drags a bit, but things get going and it is a fun ride even though I suspect that we are being set up for a twisted ending.

And, boy did we get one.

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.