Rating summary

Movie		4.0
Video		4.0
Audio		3.5
Extras		3.0
Overall		3.5

Frightmare Blu-ray Movie Review

If you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding.

Reviewed by Brian Orndorf March 16, 2014

“Frightmare” represents my official introduction to the filmography of Pete Walker. A British director who specialized in low-budget horror features, Walker made a name for himself with efficient chillers and scrappy visions of brutality, with efforts such as “Schizo,” “House of Whipcord,” and “The Comeback” earning the respect of cult audiences who live their lives to make such discoveries. 1974’s “Frightmare” is perhaps his most admired production, if only because it caused quite a stir during its initial theatrical release, upsetting critics at the time with its X-rated vision of cannibalism and murder, while offering a provocative condemnation of criminal rehabilitation services. In 2014, it’s difficult to understand why such a fuss was raised, with the genre now exposing every perversion and evil known to man, but what remains under the aged layers of condemnation is a crafty chiller, wonderfully performed and executed with a refreshing grimness. “Frightmare” has its share of ugliness, but it’s also considered work from Walker, who isn’t merely out to sicken, but haunt his audience with this effective picture.

In 1957, Dorothy (Shelia Keith) was sentenced to a psychiatric hospital for the crime of murder, her anger stemming from a troubled childhood. 15 years later, she’s built a home with husband Edmund (Rupert Davies), with daughter Jackie (Deborah Fairfax) making routine deliveries to their rural cottage, offering mysteriously bloody packages to the old woman. In the city, Jackie is the guardian of her sister, Debbie (Kim Butcher), a wild 15-year-old girl who doesn’t take kindly to rules, preferring to bomb around with her hooligan boyfriend. Pursing Jackie romantically is Graham (Paul Greenwood), a psychologist who’s intrigued with the family dynamic, reaching out to Debbie while researching Dorothy’s violent history. Jackie, increasingly resentful of Debbie and her ugly responsibilities, begins to resist her family’s demands, while Graham, inching closer to answers, realizes he might be placing himself in great danger.

“Frightmare” has secrets, but it’s more interesting as a blunt instrument. Bringing a casual atmosphere of amateur sleuthing to the story, Walker is keen to develop characters, not indulge solely in macabre highlights. The patience lends the picture a certain sense of creepiness, but it’s not felt in full, with only a few spikes of horror placed throughout the feature as Dorothy’s wrath is gradually revealed. Most of the tension is articulated by Keith, who finds a marvelous pitch of dementia as a suspicious senior who lures innocents to the house with her tarot card skills, teasing dark fates to those turning to the unknown for answers. Blessed with a perfect look of material softness and psychotic urge for such a role, Keith is the primary weapon for “Frightmare,” delivery snappish, wicked work that Walker emphasizes with extreme close-ups and a dash of nightmare imagery.

The ensemble also proves to be a worthy asset, delivering satisfactory extremes of curiosity and guilt, while Butcher submits an uncomfortably sexualized juvenile delinquent, and one who’s not entirely repulsed by extreme violence, unnerving those close to her. While most of the screenplay remains a mix of exposition and conversation, it’s pleasing to have a group of actors able to generate characterizations that aid the effort’s quest for suspense, and while a few scenes stumble due to inertia, most of “Frightmare” is engaging, with a welcome escalation of sinister business holding attention before it reaches a chilling finale.

Bloodshed isn’t as common an occurrence as a title like “Frightmare” suggests. Walker isn’t making a particularly tasteful film, but the movie’s shock shots are few and far between, mostly concerning facial wounds captured in loving detail. The lack of gore is somewhat disappointing, as Walker is good with grotesque reveals, but he makes for the absence of the obvious with unsettling shots of blood-soaked packages and scenes of Dorothy conducting creepy business at home, adding tension when necessary. Also provocative are a few jabs toward government rehabilitation policies, with men in charge showing little concern for Dorothy’s actions as she’s, you know, cured by their standards. The screenplay doesn’t go very far with this line of thinking, but these teases of criticism are interesting nonetheless.

Frightmare Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

The AVC encoded image (1.66:1 aspect ratio) presentation for "Frightmare" is impressively refreshed for its HD debut, bringing out the original flavors of the cinematography with a surprisingly vivid viewing experience. Damage is present, with speckling, judder, scratches, and mild discoloration, but nothing pulls attention away from the nasty business at hand, which is supported with good deal of sharpness. Fine detail brings out the best in gore zone visits and location particulars, while facial textures look terrific, presenting creases and grimaces with accuracy. Grain is successfully managed, holding to a tastefully filmic appearance. Colors are stable and true, with pronounced shades of red for moments of bloodletting, while emerald lighting and orange interiors also make an impression. Skintones appear pinkish and true. Blacks are stable, communicating depths and fabrics without severe solidification.

Frightmare Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

The 2.0 LPCM sound mix doesn't have much variety to offer the listener, tending to basics of this horror picture with a certain degree of confidence. Highs are harsh, as to be expected with a movie that's now 40 years old, and there's some damage detected, with a rhythmic buzzing that pops up intermittently. It's not distracting, but it's noticeable. Dialogue exchanges are defined with satisfactory clarity without ever sounding truly crisp, keeping accents accessible and emotional outbursts manageable. Atmospherics are present, preserving the creepy mood as ordered, while scoring cues are adequately supportive.

Frightmare Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• Commentary with director Pete Walker and cinematographer Peter Jessop isn't quite a trip down memory lane, as the helmer often has trouble recalling details from the shoot. Overall, it's a pleasant but unremarkable discussion of the movie, though surprisingly little is shared about the effort beyond surface details and performances (the moderator often fails to motivate the subjects). Even hardcore fans of Walker and "Frightmare" might find themselves wanting a little more substance from the track.

• "For the Sake of Cannibalism" (11:56, HD) is an interview with Walker, who sits down to discuss the challenges of "Frightmare" and its origins. An affable man, Walker seems pleased with the work, singling out Keith's performance and the lurid subject matter. There's also a discussion of the picture's controversial release, where British critics were appalled by the gruesome content, adding to the effort's publicity push.

• "Shelia Keith: A Nice Old Lady?" (13:53, SD) is a 2004 featurette spotlighting the actress's work with Walker in numerous horror pictures, giving the talent a fresh fanbase during the decline of her life. Anecdotes are engaging, including talk of a stalker who acquired sensitive information simply by asking a crew member, and recollections surrounding her final film appearance in 2001, three years before her death.

• A Theatrical Trailer (1:14, SD) is included.

Frightmare Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

While it would still qualify for an R-rating these days, "Frightmare" isn't particularly vicious stuff, allowing contemporary audiences to assess the work as it stands, without the roar of the damning press to fog the view. It's a nifty little nasty and a proper introduction to Walker's skills as a B-movie director and his genre appetites, adding to the kaleidoscopic vision of horror from the fertile genre ground of the 1970s.