Peter Reynolds in "A Question of Suspense", and "Where Has Poor Mickey Gone?" starring John Malcolm and Warren Mitchell

A "Sleuth"-like Chess Game of Death opened last night's "A Question of Suspense"(1961) as "Frank Brigstock" (Norman Rodway) walks into Jim Tellman Drew's office at Drew's namesake real estate development company. Brigstock, the company accountant tells Drew (Peter Reynolds) he won't be subordinate to him any more. "Here's why, " he says, throwing a newspaper on Drew's desk with a headline about the discovery of forged bonds at the company's bank. "Those were the bonds you gave me to deposit, right down to the serial numbers."

Brigstock, a weak man, has Drew by the you-know-whats. But Drew, a crafty man, reminds him they've been friends since childhood. "C'mon, Frank, you don't want to blackmail me. You've known me my entire life, Remember the time we".....Drew gives him a few examples of buddy-buddy memories from whatever the Brits call high school. They had the same girlfriend. "Remember her? Sister Rose, we called her." Ahh, yes, the fond memories, before Drew became Brigstock's boss.

"Okay", says Brigstock, "I won't blackmail you, but I'll call the police! I'll see you in prison for the way you've treated me all these years, as if I were gum on your shoe!" Drew tries another tack. "Alright then Frank, how about this offer? Ill make you a full partner in the company. And, I'll give back all the forged bond money. I'll make things right all around. What, still angry? Well, don't decide now. Lets have lunch at the beach house tomorrow. We'll discuss it then over a bottle of wine." Drew's beach house is where many of their teenage memories took place, with Sister Rose.

But by now, the beach house is weather beaten and run down, even worse than Burt Lahn-cahs-tah's pad in "The Swimmer". As in that film, the house is a metaphor for Times Gone By, ah yes, if only they were half as good as Drew would have Brigstock believe. He's called Brigstock out to the beach house not only to discuss a partnership, but to confess that he's buried a lot of other stolen bonds on the property. He's memorized a "footmap" with which to locate them : three steps past the stone wall, turn left, four more steps straight ahead, then start digging. It's like a treasure map, and he does dig, but then he keeps digging and Brigstock wonders why he's digging so deep (and so rectangular). "Where's the trunk with the bonds?" he asks. "Shouldn't be much deeper," says Drew, "how bout you take a turn digging?" We next see Drew adjusting his necktie and reaching into his coat. Then the scene is cut away, but it's obvious the the dig was for a grave, Brigstock's grave, so that Drew could be rid of his old, blackmailing childhood friend.

But then who should come to visit him at his office, but Sister Rose herself? My goodness gracious. Drew wasn't counting on that. She's just Rose Marples (Noelle Middleton) now, and lo and behold, she was living with Frank Brigstock as his common-law wife. Drew never knew this! His Amazonian secretary, with whom he's having an affair, eavesdrops on every meeting he has in his office, unless he's quick enough to turn off the intercom. After a friend of Rose's says she saw Drew and Brigstock in a Jag-You-Are (automobile, Brit. pron.) near the beach house, the coppers get involved and that's all I'll deign to tell you. Jim Tellman Drew is suave and courts Rose to keep her close, so she won't discover his true nature, but of course the meek shall inherit the earth, and everything under the sun shall be revealed, including dead bodies buried at rotting beach houses. Two Big Thumbs Up for this Hitchcockian little gem. The picture is razor sharp. //// 

The previous night, we had a bit of the old ultra-violence in "Where Has Poor Mickey Gone?"(1964), which opens with a title song sung torch style by Ottilie Patterson. Now, I know that A Clockwork Orange is adapted from the Anthony Burgess book, but if Kubrick didn't see this film I'll eat my hat. Four youths terrorize the London night, beginning at a jazz club. They start off as a trio who get bounced from the club for being obnoxious, and, after breaking windows in retaliation, they are joined by an unlikely straight man, the collegiate-looking "Kip" (Christopher Robbie), who was in the same club and just had a fight with his girlfriend. Though preppy, for some reason he's attracted to the punk gang, led by "Mick" (John Malcolm), who - 100% hands-down - has got to be the model for Alex in "Clockwork". MIck's got a regular hat instead of a derby, and a suit instead of a white jumper, but the mannerisms and speech are identical (minus the Burgess lingo), and later in the movie he even dons a top hat and cane. There's a 100% chance Kubrick borrowed all of this for Alex.

John Malcolm plays Mick as a thoroughly horrible person. His sidekick "Ginger" (Raymond Armstrong) isn't much better. The third punk, named "Tim" (John Challis), is a bit of a dummy and wuss compared to Mick and Ginger, but he does whatever Mick tells him. When Kip joins them, Mick has to size him up first, but Kip is big and self confident. There really isn't a reason to have him in the film, except to show that an average, non-criminal guy can be attracted to gang violence.

The first 34 minutes are just violence and torture. Remember that movie "The Incident" with Martin Sheen and Tony Musante, where we said they should've been thrown in prison for playing those roles because the characters were so sadistic and the movie looked like real life? The first 34 minutes of this film are like that, though not near as bad. The foursome eat fish and chips, then terrorize a couple making out in an alley. They hit the guy over the head with a brick and almost kill him, and even though it's a well-made film (good acting and not as street-level real as "The Incident") you're still going, "why am I watching this?"

But then, through a basement windum, the gang observe what appears to them to be an old man (Warren Mitchell) in his junk shop, counting the day's receipts. He's putting a fair chunk of money in his lockbox, so they decide to go in and rob him. But it turns out he's a seller of props and costumes for magicians, and a former magician himself. His shop is a magic prop warehouse. Emilio the Magnificent was his stage name. The fact that he's Italian infuriates the bigoted Mick, who torments and makes sport of Emilio to amuse his compadres. They tie Emilio up and gag him when he screams, and you think they're gonna eventually kill him when Mick, a short man who gets his way by aggression, gets tired of toying with him. They drink Emilio's wine. Then they discover an early 1964 version of a Foosball table that Emilio begs them not to destroy, so of course that's exactly what they do. That's when they find out that Emilio is a retired magician, and Mick forces him to do a performance.

I really shouldn't tell you anymore, but this is where the movie turns into a kind of Twilight Zone episode, which makes it worth watching and then some. Yow! Two Huge Thumbs Up. John Malcolm's performance, besides being the 100% guaranteed blueprint for Malcolm McDowell's Alex, also has dimension when the tables are turned on him and his hooligans. And I just can't tell you any more. But the picture is very good and it gets a high recommendation, a little flick with quite an influence.  ////

And that's all for tonight. My blogging music is "Stranger in Us All" by Rainbow (featuring some of Ritchie's best playing ever), and my late night is Handel's Julius Caesar in Egypt Opera. I hope your week is going well and I send you Tons of Love, as always. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo  :):)