Where Has Poor Mickey Gone?

WHERE HAS POOR MICKEY GONE? is an obscure little potboiler, obviously made on a very tight budget and set in just one location for the most part. It's notable for featuring a couple of TV favourites in the years before they came to fame, plus managing the tricky task of juggling both the thriller and horror genres. The story is about a group of juvenile delinquents - shades of THE BOYS - who go around town committing crime everywhere they go. They end up in a magician's shop, where they tie the magician to a chair before brutalising and tormenting him. However, there's a twist in store.

if I'm honest, WHERE HAS POOR MICKEY GONE? feels a bit dragged out at feature length. The plot reminded me a little of the Curd Jurgens segment from the Amicus anthology VAULT OF HORROR. It's very tame - U certificate, in fact - by modern standards, and quite slow and talky. Occasionally there are missteps, such as a screeching bit on the soundtrack that seems to go on forever. However, appearances from an on-form Warren Mitchell (TILL DEATH US DO PART) and a youthful John Challis (Boycie in ONLY FOOLS AND HORSES) make it watchable, and the twist ending still sends a few chills down the spine even today.

Tony Tenser and Michael Klinger, who ran Compton-Cameo Films, famously gave several young directors their first opportunities. One of them was Gerry Levy, who came to them with a script he'd written under the name Peter Marcus. The story of four tearaway lads who break into a fairground novelties warehouse and terrorise the owner (Warren Mitchell) before getting their come-uppance has a horror comic feel to it, but not a great deal of suspense. The business of a posh boy (Christopher Robbie) joining the other lads in their drunken spree takes up a lot of time but seems of marginal relevance. (Levy's brother has confirmed to me that this material was added to increase the running time, thereby qualifying the film for the government's Eady fund). Nevertheless this is a very unusual independent British spook film of the period. A good deal of time and effort was spent on it and this includes a lot of night shooting in London's Soho, the renting of a studio for the interiors, and a title song written and performed by Ottilie Patterson. Because it has few exploitable elements it was shelved after it was made in 1963 and eventually released as a second feature in 1966. Levy went on to direct "The Body Stealers" for Tenser's Tigon company, but then became a production manager. "Mickey" disappeared until a tattered print, with at least 20 minutes missing, turned up at BFI Southbank in 1997. A very good copy of the complete version is currently on the Talking Pictures channel. Two other points of interest are that it was Patricia Quinn's first film (can anyone confirm that she's one of two young women who come out of Portland Mews and reject the advances of the boys?) and that it was originally classified "X" but is now "U". The original certificate must have been awarded solely because the BBFC was still obsessed in the 1960s with the alleged influence of films showing juvenile delinquency.

For a long time the 'holy grail' of 1960s' low-budget British genre movies that I longed to see appear as an official DVD or Blu-ray release was the Edward Judd sci-fi oddity Invasion (1966), but that was finally issued by StudioCanal in 2014. Since then, another film from the same period has taken its place on my 'must have' list - Gerry Levy's little-seen and much underrated debut b-movie Where Has Poor Mickey Gone? (1964); the full cut of this film has played a handful of times on Talking Pictures TV over the last year or two, though it still shows no signs of a DVD release on the associated Renown label.

The tale of four nominally 'juvenile' delinquent lads who break into a fairground supplies shop in pursuit of vicious kicks, only to receive a chilling comeuppance at the hands of Warren Mitchell's troubled magician, it mainly resembles a prototype episode of Tales of the Unexpected (complete with a creepy twist ending not unlike something from novelist Roald Dahl's The Witches). Despite some obvious padding included to bring it up to the usual one-hour second feature running time and thus qualify the film for the Eady Levy, it remains a compact little 'short story' that benefits from a genuine sense of mystery and from Mitchell's committed (if not always totally convincing) lead performance.

The quartet of youths are three ne'er-do-well Cockneys and a 'posh nosh' hanger-on, who bully courting couples and pick fights with nightclub bouncers before deciding to give Mitchell's 'The Great Dinelli' a lot of trouble for no reason other than their own boredom and mean-spiritedness. Though Mitchell initially appears cringingly terrified of the boys, he's actually the guardian to some seriously powerful supernatural forces, and it is of unleashing them that he is actually most wary. In this way, the film almost invites the audience to enjoy the eventual fate of the 'boys', which isn't really difficult given that they are well-characterised as genuine assholes, despite being very 'weak beer' by modern standards (remember the days when ASBO kids wore ties and jumpers? Eden Lake this ain't), and the perhaps slightly lacking casting. John Malcolm, who plays the titular gang leader Mickey, was around twenty-seven when the film was made but with his dopey trilby and chronically receding hairline he looks nearer forty (Malcolm continually calling Mitchell 'Pop' seems silly because the two men appear to be the same age - Mitchell was in his late thirties and despite playing a feeble codger, he doesn't really look any older than that). Other members of the gang will be familiar to Tom Baker-era Doctor Who fans; Christopher Robbie was the Cyberleader in Revenge of the Cybermen, whilst John Challis more notably played the nasty Scorby in The Seeds of Doom, although he's obviously much better known as Boycie from Only Fools and Horses.

Levy had a lengthy career in the movies, eventually working as a production manager on 1980s' A-pictures like Out of Africa and Cry Freedom. His only other movie as a director, however, was the Tigon stinkbomb The Body Stealers (1969), a film as lame-brained, unpersuasive and un-scary as Where Has Poor Mickey Gone? is quietly compelling and eerie. Another plus is Ottilie Patterson belting out a great little title track, but unfortunately, Where Has Poor Mickey Gone? didn't see immediate release following its completion and apparently only went out as support to Polanski's Cul-De-Sac in 1966, before vanishing from circulation for over thirty years. Now that it is back doing the rounds, if it turns up I'd advise that you try to catch it.

As befits such a quizzical title like ships that pass in the night the paths of Alf Garnett and Boysie crossed in this fanciful little oddity that probably qualifies as an early home invasion film.

What follows promises to be a fairly commonplace tale of a bunch of yobbos victimising a senior citizen; but when one of the intruders curiosity gets the better of him the film changes gears and the tables are turned as the boys discover themselves well out their depth.

The ambiguous ending when it comes will have you wondering what on earth just you've just been watching and frankly my dear I'm as in the dark as you are.

Four young men are thrown out of a night club. They get rowdy on the street, injuring a man, then make their way to a side-street shop where an old Italian man (Warren Mitchell) makes props and games for fun fairs. They bust one of them, then discover his stage magician trappings, and insist on a show.

It's a Twilight Zone sort of short second feature, timing in at less than an hour, and a good one at that, as the dominance shifts from the hooligans to Mitchell, and the camera, wielded by Alan Pudney, scans in an increasingly uneasy fashion over the increasingly foreboding premises. Writer-producer-director Gerry Levy spent most of his film career as a production manager, and wrote a few scripts for horror movies. He died in 1996, aged 68.