The Starfish

It's no slight against John Schlesinger or Alan Cooke to observe that this is a feature that was never particularly built to be seen by a wide audience. Cinephiles can appreciate the work filmmakers produce as students, but even at their best such efforts almost invariably bear rough edges and a light tone, and reflect developing skills that are practically in utero. And so it is here, as the two men show fine burgeoning capabilities in terms of writing, direction, cinematography, and so on, if certainly not yet the peak of such talents; strictly speaking, at times the sound design and editing are a tad inconsistent in quality, perhaps showing where Schlesinger and Cooke were in their journeys at that time. One way or another, though, 'The starfish' bears continued value as an illustration of extant craftsmanship, and is earnestly enjoyable on its own merits.

Of equal interest is that this little flick carries itself as a modern fairy tale, with elements of dark fantasy and even horror. Mind you, these facets are far more thematic than they are actualized, and nevermind the idea of inspiring reactions in viewers that are commensurate with the material. Moreover, in centering children there can be no arguing that the tone here is lighter still than it might have been otherwise. All the same, as the plot leans on local legends, and the consequences of violating a witch's domain, a small measure of ominous atmosphere is ably manifested - bolstered by Roy Jesson's admirable, dramatic score. The heavy makeup applied to Margaret Webber is seen only periodically, yet offers a garish vision for the witch that is right about on par for major contemporary fare. This is relatively soft for the genre, perhaps, yet it does meaningfully, gladly earn the label.

It's debatable whether the modest production values of the student film more closely resemble other works of the 50s, or perhaps instead those of the 40s or even 30s. There is lag at points, perhaps, as the length is padded out with footage of characters running around, and footage of the surrounding area. Him and haw all one wants about the particulars, however - I rather think this student film is genuinely more compelling and satisfying than a lot of other pictures that were being churned out around the same period. That Schlesinger and Cooke had access to the beautiful landscapes and sea surrounding Cornwall was no small get, let alone the cooperation of locals. The acting is unremarkable, but sincere and worthy. I really do like the duo's direction, and their cinematography, and the narrative and scene writing boast quantifiable strength. Truly, this is surprisingly well made!

It's no must-see exemplar, and it has its shortcomings. This won't appeal to anyone who has difficulty abiding older features, or who can't get on board with the horror sensibilities thereof; a thrilling, chilling stunner this is not. Nevertheless, 'The starfish' is astonishingly well done, outpacing no few titles that had the benefit of more resources, and it stands taller as a horror flick than can be said for many of its brethren before or since. You don't need to go out of your way to see it, and one should be aware of what they're sitting down for, but if you do have the opportunity to watch, I'm happy to say it's well worth a mere forty-five minutes of one's time. I think this is something most viewers could appreciate in some capacity, and I'm pleased to give it my recommendation!

In a Cornish village, two vacationing boys are kidnapped by the local witch. The only one who knows how to save them is fisher Kenneth Griffith.

It's labeled a fairy tale by its creators, co-producers, -writers, and -directors John Schlesinger and Alan Cooke. This was their second collaboration while they were students at Oxford. While I didn't find the fantastic elements particularly good, the choice of Cadgwith in Cornwall offers a variety of nice shots. The two directors choose to do a lot of distance shots from overheard, showing off the local geography to advantage, and adding a dreamlike sense of detachment. At 45 minutes, it's barely feature-length, but that shortness means it doesn't take up too much time.