Peeping Tom (1961)

the audience applauded

Don't listen to the negative reviews

It’s not bad or unwatchable but despite the amplitude of the spectacle, the end result is underwhelming.

This film is so real. It treats its characters with so much care and sensitivity.

A shocking , unnerving and controversial film at the time , that caused real controversy , being no apt for the easily nauseated or sickened ; in fact it was extremely panned by critics . It deals with a psychopath called Mark Lewis , Karlheinz Bhom , who lures women before his film camera , then he records their feared faces . Meanwhile , two police inspectors , Jack Watson and Nígel Davenport , are investigating the weird events .Disturbing subject matter about a psychopatic cameraman who uses his camera to record women's agonies , it is rendered breathtakingly by a great director , the British Michael Powell who performs briefly the part of Mark's abusive daddy , as he is shown on home movies harassing and tormenting the little boy ; furthermore , including a brilliant cinematography by Otto Heller. This is a splendid , thrilling , and gripping as well as adult entertainment, no recommended for nervous or squeamish . A classy of its kind but ultimately not for everyone . Powell is usually associated to great and colorful films , but here he made one of the most terrifying and frightening contributions to the cinema of the macabre since WWII. The killings themselves are horrifyingly tense , causing panic and fear . Karl Bohm gives a nice acting as the ruthless psychopath young photographing his terrified victims at his hand , he couldn't be bettered as the horrible and cruel psycho. Support cast is frankly excellent, such as : Anna Massey, Maxine Audley as her mother , Moira Shearer , Shirley Anne Field , Keith Baxter , Michael Goodliffe , Brenda Bruce , Esmond Knight , Miles Malleson , Martin Miller , Nigel Davenport, Jack Watson, among others.The motion picture was originally made by Michael Powell , but it was so vilified by reviewers and officials alike , that he didn't work in Great Britain for a very long time. As the original uncut version was not realised until 1970 . Michael started working at various jobs in the English studios of Denham and Pinewood on a series of quota quickies . Later on , he made all kinds of genres with penchant for Dramas , Musical and WWII films . As he directed : The tales of Hoffman , The red shoes , The elusive Pimpernel , Pursuit of Graf Spee , The small black room , Black narcisus , Contraband , The thief of Bagdad , Edge of the world , I know where I am going , Night ambush , The lion has wings , Spy in black , The forty-ninth parallel , One of our aircrafts is missing, Life and death of Colonel Blimp , Canterbury tale . Many of them are considered masterpieces, and being produced under banner his production company : The Archers , along with Emeric Pressburger . Powell was rediscovered in the late 1960s and early 70s by Martín Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola . In fact , Powell worked as Senior in Coppola's Zoetrope Studios and he married Scorsese's longtime editor Thelma Schoonmaker. He died of cancer in 1990.

This film that, so loathed by everyone in 1960 that it effectively ended the film career of a prestigious director, feels a good decade ahead of it's time. It seems a bit puzzling at first that "Psycho" could be released in the same year and be a success for Hitchcock, and that this film would ruin Powell, but it makes sense when you really look closely at the films. Hitchcock's film has shocking content, but the shocks have a somewhat safe and innocuous character to them. Hitchcock wouldn't really delve into the sort of perverse and unseemly violence you find in this film until "Frenzy", over a decade later. Powell's film delves into the mix of sex, voyeurism and violence that De Palma would delve into in the 70's and 80's, and while this is not simply "a De Palma film made 20 years earlier" (it's less slick, but also a bit more artful), the comparison shows why it took so long for anyone to appreciate this film.

I thought it was rather boring for a thriller film, yeah its about a dude videoing the killing of women he killed. Other than that, I just felt like the main character should've needed more development. He shouldn't be known as a shy guy killing women, but a loud mouth who can do anything to lure his victims. I couldn't understand why he didn't kill the first girl who came into his home when he showed her his messed up childhood on the movie reel. I thought the acting was rather off and just not entertaining, I think I would rather see other 1960's movies that are better than this one. I give this a rating of 2/10.....

This is one perplexing film, almost as odd as Anna Massey's, the heroine's, face. Her features -- eyes, nose, lips, chin, neck -- seem to have been plucked at random from some genetic hat and flung together by the creator and, happily, came out right, almost by accident. Half the time I couldn't tell whether a scene was aimless or held some deeper, clinical significance that was lost on a dullard like me.The bare bones of the story are plain enough. Handsome, introverted, young Karlheinz Böhm works as some kind of focus puller in the British movie industry. He occupies the top floor of a rooming house and the largest room is dark and filled with mysterious cinematographic junk, like one of those chambers in a horror movie.Due do his child abuse, he loves to see women being frightened and then he kills them with a sharp spike on the end of one of the feet of his tripod, filming their faces all the time. He doesn't do it very often but when he does, she switches his persona from his usual reticent, shambling self, to a cockeyed maniac.Is there hope for him? I mean, we really DO want him to get caught or at least stop committing these little sins because he's pathetic. He sounds like Peter Lorre. For a few moment, in the middle of the film, yes, there seems to be a way out of his obsession. Anna Massey, a winsome young lady of twenty one, talks him into a date and more or less forces him to leave his movie camera and tripod behind. He's surprised to find he's enjoyed himself and promises himself never to kill her -- unless he sees her frightened.As the lunatic, Böhm is bland. Anna Massey is far more interesting. When she speaks, it seems that only her lips are moving while the rest of her face remains at rest. (That really IS worth making a movie about.) Moira Shearer has a small role as one of the first victims. She's given some clunky choreography except that she gets to bust one or two ballet moves that I think are called kick fans. She's quite a dancer. She's the only woman I've ever seen who can be en pointe sitting down.Nobody else is of much importance except Massey's blind mother, Maxine Audley, who makes up for the challenge to her sight by being practically clairvoyant. The police are no more than drones.It's not hard to understand why Böhm is more comfortable with cameras than with people. Conversing with other people is an extremely complicated business. It's only because we do it so often that it seems routine. But it's not. We have to manage our body language, our facial expressions, our utterances, our inflections, and the distance we keep between ourselves and the other. We don't notice these commonplace decisions except in people who make the wrong ones, as schizophrenics do.But those careful and precise judgments don't need to be made when a camera or a computer or radio can act as a transducer, shielding us from the judgment of others. We're safe behind that baffle. You doubt? Ever have stage fright? Well extreme introverts like Böhm have people fright.But, in the end, I don't know what to make of this movie. It's a mistake to read too much into a thing. It's like looking at a random assortment of stars in the sky and connecting them in such a way that you wind up with the outline of a bull or, for the Chinese, a rat. The prominent director may have led some viewers to make that error, but I'll have it some points for its meanderings being the result of deliberation; for the rest, felix culpa.