A dead man returns home after four years to confront those he believes responsible for his murder. This sentence is so much more interesting than the muddled mess of a story that follows, as our protagonist is so cold and detached (though warm and breathing) and the impious tetralogy so ill-defined that our interest in the bickering and arguing over who killed who is tiresome. This may win the Hammer Film Award for most phone calls in an 80-minute film! Terence Fisher’s direction is pedestrian but his DP Walter Harvey, working in widescreen (1:66:1) compositions with deep focus, somehow makes this dull story feel alive. Harvey often shoots characters in mirrors to reveal their duplicitous nature, and his medium shots still keep the background characters in focus so we can see expressions or body language.
Philip Vickers (William Sylvester), sporting a jagged scar on his forehead, returns home after a four-year absence and is surprised that his wife Angie (Paulette Goddard) may be moving on with her life. She is having a party and coincidentally the three business associates, one of whom Vickers believes is responsible for his murder attempt, are in attendance. When one of these men ends up with his brains bashed in that same night, Vickers becomes the prime suspect. Soon, the story’s convolutions become monotonous and characters act, not out of reason or suspicion, but as plot points to propel the story to its unsurprising conclusion.
William Sylvester imbues his character Vickers, the story’s protagonist and one we should feel some compassion for, as a stone-cold asshole. Paulette Goddard seems to be following the inept script and not doing much else, as there is zero chemistry between her and her husband. And this is four fucking years later, yet it seems like a few days as people don’t’ seem very shocked or alarmed at his return, while Angie’s life must have remained in stasis for this entire time both physically and emotionally. The entire third act is laughable, as Vicker’s associate attempts to frame him for the murder of the secretary (who claims Vickers was responsible for her father’s suicide years before), but the resolution is so inane it makes one laugh out loud.
If you’re going to title a film that evokes Tod Browning’s fantastic silent masterpiece, there better be a murderous Ape in the third act! Alas, no such luck. So, the title exclaims that there are four who are blasphemous, but it remains ambiguous as to who the final applicant truly is. The secretary? The wife? Or Vickers himself? I posit the later.
Final Grade: (C-)
