A masterpiece of economical horror that remains every bit as chilling as the
day it was first broadcast, this was the first, and arguably the best, of the
M.R. James adaptations that peppered BBC schedules during the late 1960s and
'70s, and an advance warning of a new tradition of Christmas ghost stories.
Some James purists have been less enthusiastic, upset perhaps by director
Jonathan Miller's complaint, in an otherwise respectful piece in Radio Times,
that James' dialogue was "ludicrously stilted", but also by the other liberties
Miller takes with the much-loved story, from pruning its title - originally 'Oh
Whistle and I'll Come to You, My Lad' - to recasting its protagonist, Professor
Parker, as a bumbling, self-satisfied old academic so detached from everyday
life that he struggles with even the most basic interaction with others.
A graver offence for some, perhaps, is the way that Miller introduces an element of
ambiguity as to the truth of the Professor's supernatural experience - what we
may be witnessing, he dares to suggest, is not a literal haunting but a clever
mind teetering into madness. All the same, Miller's adaptation is not only
genuinely unnerving but, in fact, remarkably faithful to the spirit of James,
and the theme of an arrogant, self-absorbed intellectual being harshly punished
for his dabbling in things better left alone is entirely Jamesian.
Absorbing the lessons of Val Lewton's legendary team at RKO Studios in the
early 1940s - responsible for such low budget genre classics as Cat People
(1942) and I Walked With a Zombie (1943) - Miller uses suggestion rather than
direct representation, and builds and sustains an eerie atmosphere with a
diverse array of stylistic devices - exaggerated sound and lighting effects,
high and low camera angles, disorienting extreme close-ups, teasingly
obstructing our view with trees, railings or other objects. The ghostly
manifestations, particularly the Professor's dream/hallucination on the beach,
conjure terror from the minimum of special effects.
As the unfortunate Professor, Michael Hordern - whose career more than once
entered James territory - is glorious, with each line on his multi-furrowed face
used to expressive effect. The drama's success owes much, too, to the gorgeous
black and white photography of Dick Bush, whose previous credits included Peter
Watkins' Culloden (BBC, tx. 15/12/1964) and Miller's own extraordinary Alice in
Wonderland (BBC, tx. 28/12/1966).
Mark Duguid
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