A serial killer is on the loose in London - a sex maniac who rapes his victims and then strangles them with his tie. This couldn't matter less to Richard Blaney (Jon Finch), a bitter, washed-up veteran who loses his job at a pub and is generally mad at the world. But Blaney soon becomes the prime suspect after his ex-wife (Barbara Leigh-Hunt) becomes a victim of the killer - and the circumstantial evidence implicating him becomes overwhelming. With the help of co-worker/lover Babs (Anna Massey) and the reluctant help of an old RAF buddy and his wife (Clive Swift and Billie Whitelaw), he goes on the lam, further implicating him. After Babs is found strangled, Blaney is arrested - but Chief Inspector Oxford (Alec McCowan) of Scotland Yard begins to doubt his guilt. Soon, he realizes that the wrong man is in jail - and that the murderer is actually Blaney's buddy Bob Rusk (Barry Foster), a seemingly cheerful Covent Garden grocer. However, Blaney has escaped from jail, and Oxford must get to Rusk before Blaney does in order to sure that the right man is caught.
On the surface, "Frenzy" is a rather typical Alfred Hitchcock film, exploring the familiar ground of a man implicated in a crime he didn't commit, but against whom the evidence is overwhelming. But Hitchcock is able to add some new twists, and a great deal of darkness which make the film stand out in his canon. While not held in terribly high regard by most Hitch enthusiasts, I would name Frenzy as being one of his two or three best films.
After years of self-imposed exile from his homeland, Hitchcock makes a triumphant return to London, and the early sections of the movie show a director sending a big coming-home Valentine to his native land. But the movie is more than that; the attitude quickly becomes dark, sour and sardonic. A British official (John Boxer) giving a speech on pollution is interrupted by the discovery of a body in the river beneath him. Two Englishmen have a rather dark discussion about serial killers and their "appropriateness" in London; indeed, London is the home of Jack the Ripper, so a serial killer on the prowl is business as usual for most. Unlike Americans, the British are rather blasé about the prospect of a murderer in their midst. This essentially British attitude pervades the film, as Hitchcock employs his trademark dark humor to accentuate the violence going on around him.
The movie has several striking images and scenes which make it stand out. The most obvious is the murder of Barbara Leigh-Hunt, an uncomfortably long and graphic scene of rape and violence, where Hitchcock takes full advantage of the increasingly lax censorship. The shot of Leigh-Hunt's corpse with its tongue dangling out is extremely chilling. Even more effective is the murder of Babs, as Hitchcock sets us up, then pans back through the apartment and out into the bustling street - a bravura piece of film making that says more than another, equally graphic strangulation could have. The scene where Rusk rides a potato truck to recover a bit of evidence from one of his victims (another typical Hitchcock device - making us sympathize with the killer) is effectively suspenseful. The scenes of comedy, particularly the Inspector's gourmet dinners with his wife (Vivien Merchant), go along with rather than provide relief from the violent goings-on in the main plot. And the denouement is classic Hitch.
Another ingenious twist is the character of Dick Blaney. Blaney is another Hitchcockian "wrong man" who, seemingly trapped by circumstantial evidence and afraid of the police, goes on the run, seemingly implicating himself. But unlike previous such characters - Henry Fonda in The Wrong Man, Grace Kelly in Dial M For Murder, Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief and North By Northwest - Blaney is a completely surly, unlikeable character who nags his ex-wife, carries on in public, and is a complete an utter jerk (as evidenced by a surprisingly affective shot where he tramples a box of grapes on the street). Bob Rusk, by contrast, is cheerful, friendly and helpful - when he's not strangling women, of course. It's very hard to work up much sympathy for Blaney; while some consider this a drawback, I'd actually consider it a benefit, and it's an intriguing twist on a hoary old idea that Hitchcock pulls of brilliantly.
The cast is uniformly excellent. Hitchcock probably benefits from the lack of established stars; the B- and C-list actors here are probably better for not having the baggage of a screen persona with them. Jon Finch pulls off his rather difficult character well, avoiding the temptation to make Blaney likable. Barry Foster turns in a chillingly effective performance as Rusk, making him one of Hitchcock's greatest villains. Anna Massey and Barbara Leigh-Hunt are both charming, while Jean Marsh is effective as the cold-hearted, man-hating secretary who is key in convicting Blaney. Alex McCowan and Vivien Merchant provide several scenes of hysterical black humor as the Investigator and his wife. Clive Swift, Billie Whitelaw, Elsie Randolph and Michael Bates round out the cast nicely.
Frenzy is arguably the best of Hitchcock's later efforts, and it stands up very well even next to his best work. By adding a few neat twists and a welcome edge of darkness, the Master of Suspense creates another masterful thriller.
9/10
On the surface, "Frenzy" is a rather typical Alfred Hitchcock film, exploring the familiar ground of a man implicated in a crime he didn't commit, but against whom the evidence is overwhelming. But Hitchcock is able to add some new twists, and a great deal of darkness which make the film stand out in his canon. While not held in terribly high regard by most Hitch enthusiasts, I would name Frenzy as being one of his two or three best films.
After years of self-imposed exile from his homeland, Hitchcock makes a triumphant return to London, and the early sections of the movie show a director sending a big coming-home Valentine to his native land. But the movie is more than that; the attitude quickly becomes dark, sour and sardonic. A British official (John Boxer) giving a speech on pollution is interrupted by the discovery of a body in the river beneath him. Two Englishmen have a rather dark discussion about serial killers and their "appropriateness" in London; indeed, London is the home of Jack the Ripper, so a serial killer on the prowl is business as usual for most. Unlike Americans, the British are rather blasé about the prospect of a murderer in their midst. This essentially British attitude pervades the film, as Hitchcock employs his trademark dark humor to accentuate the violence going on around him.
The movie has several striking images and scenes which make it stand out. The most obvious is the murder of Barbara Leigh-Hunt, an uncomfortably long and graphic scene of rape and violence, where Hitchcock takes full advantage of the increasingly lax censorship. The shot of Leigh-Hunt's corpse with its tongue dangling out is extremely chilling. Even more effective is the murder of Babs, as Hitchcock sets us up, then pans back through the apartment and out into the bustling street - a bravura piece of film making that says more than another, equally graphic strangulation could have. The scene where Rusk rides a potato truck to recover a bit of evidence from one of his victims (another typical Hitchcock device - making us sympathize with the killer) is effectively suspenseful. The scenes of comedy, particularly the Inspector's gourmet dinners with his wife (Vivien Merchant), go along with rather than provide relief from the violent goings-on in the main plot. And the denouement is classic Hitch.
Another ingenious twist is the character of Dick Blaney. Blaney is another Hitchcockian "wrong man" who, seemingly trapped by circumstantial evidence and afraid of the police, goes on the run, seemingly implicating himself. But unlike previous such characters - Henry Fonda in The Wrong Man, Grace Kelly in Dial M For Murder, Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief and North By Northwest - Blaney is a completely surly, unlikeable character who nags his ex-wife, carries on in public, and is a complete an utter jerk (as evidenced by a surprisingly affective shot where he tramples a box of grapes on the street). Bob Rusk, by contrast, is cheerful, friendly and helpful - when he's not strangling women, of course. It's very hard to work up much sympathy for Blaney; while some consider this a drawback, I'd actually consider it a benefit, and it's an intriguing twist on a hoary old idea that Hitchcock pulls of brilliantly.
The cast is uniformly excellent. Hitchcock probably benefits from the lack of established stars; the B- and C-list actors here are probably better for not having the baggage of a screen persona with them. Jon Finch pulls off his rather difficult character well, avoiding the temptation to make Blaney likable. Barry Foster turns in a chillingly effective performance as Rusk, making him one of Hitchcock's greatest villains. Anna Massey and Barbara Leigh-Hunt are both charming, while Jean Marsh is effective as the cold-hearted, man-hating secretary who is key in convicting Blaney. Alex McCowan and Vivien Merchant provide several scenes of hysterical black humor as the Investigator and his wife. Clive Swift, Billie Whitelaw, Elsie Randolph and Michael Bates round out the cast nicely.
Frenzy is arguably the best of Hitchcock's later efforts, and it stands up very well even next to his best work. By adding a few neat twists and a welcome edge of darkness, the Master of Suspense creates another masterful thriller.
9/10