Fright (1971)

The Lloyds are an extremely nervous couple for reasons that are not immediately apparent as they prepare to head out for an evening “celebration,” leaving their young son in the care of Amanda, their stunningly attractive babysitter. Mrs Lloyd in particular, played with brittle anxiety by Honor Blackman, seems permanently on edge, and it quickly becomes obvious that the couple are hiding something from Amanda.

The family live in an isolated suburban house, and communication with the outside world relies entirely upon the landline telephone. It is rather strange now to revisit a world without mobile phones, surveillance cameras, internet access or instant messaging. Not all that long ago, one depended entirely on the post or the telephone, and that was pretty much the extent of modern communication.

Eventually, Mr Lloyd manages to calm his increasingly frazzled wife sufficiently for them to leave the house, and Amanda soon finds herself alone in a large creaking home with a sleeping child upstairs and a growing collection of unnerving noises beginning to fray her nerves almost immediately after the couple depart.

Her boyfriend, played by Dennis Waterman, soon arrives with predictably amorous intentions. Initially Amanda resists his advances, but things take a darker turn when he reveals some deeply alarming information. According to him, the man Amanda believed to be Mr Lloyd is not actually Mr Lloyd at all. The real Mr Lloyd, it seems, attempted to murder his wife and child before being committed to a lunatic asylum.

Naturally, this revelation changes the atmosphere instantly. Mrs Lloyd’s barely concealed panic suddenly makes perfect sense. Before long, news begins filtering through that her husband has escaped, and her worst fears appear ready to become reality once again. We learn that he previously attempted to strangle her and murder their young son, and she remains utterly convinced he will return to finish the job.

Halfway through the film, Ian Bannen arrives as the apparently friendly neighbour, all calm smiles and reassuring charm — though naturally in a thriller like this one begins immediately to wonder whether he is quite as harmless as he appears. Meanwhile, following Amanda’s earlier aborted phone call, the Lloyds race desperately homeward, only for mounting panic and frayed nerves to delay them along the way.

Amanda’s studies in child psychology suddenly become unexpectedly useful as she finds herself trying to reason with a man teetering on the brink of madness and consumed by violent rage. The question, however, is how long she can continue holding him off.

Fright is a highly effective and surprisingly stylish little thriller, with director Peter Collinson demonstrating a very confident grasp of suspense and atmosphere. Numerous sequences reveal a director with genuine visual flair and a knack for tension-building. At times there are even hints of later Brian De Palma or perhaps early Dario Argento in the fluid camerawork, prowling tracking shots and sharp bursts of choppy editing used to heighten the tension.

Collinson throws virtually every suspense trick in the book at the audience but does so with enough style and confidence to keep things gripping throughout. The end result is a taut and well-acted thriller that still holds up remarkably well decades later.

Susan George was certainly spending much of 1971 fighting off dangerous lunatics, with Straw Dogs arriving the same year, and she acquits herself very well here too. Honor Blackman is particularly strong, lending the film much of its emotional anxiety and sense of mounting dread.

Fright is undoubtedly worth seeking out for viewers who enjoy tense, tightly wound thrillers and solid performances. And while modern sensibilities may object to such observations these days, it would probably still not be entirely inaccurate to point out that Susan George also provides rather pleasing eye candy throughout.