Rent Bat Out of Hell (1966)

Nothing to do with Meatloaf, thank goodness! - Bat Out of Hell review by Count Otto Black

This extremely silly thriller occupies an odd no-man's-land between gritty modern crime dramas and Agatha Christie's genteel country house whodunnits. Though to be strictly accurate, it's not so much "whodunnit?" as "who didn't?", with just about the entire cast getting mixed up in the murder that happens five minutes into episode one, some bonus murders that happen later on, or various other bits of criminality, though of course some of the suspects turn out to be red herrings.

Obviously inspired by the superb 1955 movie "Les Diaboliques", it starts off in very similar territory, with an unpleasant husband being murdered, only for doubts to arise almost immediately as to whether or not he's really dead. Luckily for people who've seen "Les Diaboliques" (and if you haven't, you really should), it soon goes off in several other directions, though the theme of confusion as to who exactly is dead at any given moment is revisited somewhat implausibly as the story progresses.

Depending on your age, the name "John Thaw" immediately conjures up one of two tough coppers: Jack Regan from "The Sweeney" or the much better behaved Inspector Morse. So it's a bit disconcerting to see him playing a slimy, murderous, upper-middle-class estate agent. And since he's by far the most important character, it's a pity that he's so completely unlikeable. He also seems very stiff at times, probably because the part requires him to suppress his natural accent and do it all in rather posh BBC English. In fact, there are no genuinely likable characters at all, other than people who aren't on screen long enough to make much of an impression. Even the policeman trying to sort it all out is excessively cold and merciless, though to be fair to him, almost everyone he ever talks to apart from other policemen seems quite likely to be a murderer, and several of them are.

On the plus side, if you can forget how daft some of the plot-twists are, and ignore the way that absolutely everybody seems to be involved in multiple crimes that coincidentally just happen to tie in with one another, it's actually a very ingenious fast-moving thriller that, because of its episodic format, has a duty to surprise you at frequent intervals which it fulfills admirably. It's dated and wildly implausible, but in its own way, it's a lot of fun, and compared to most other BBC productions of the time, nowhere near as creaky as you think it's going to be. Well worth a look if you forget the hype about it being a neglected masterpiece and just want a decent murder mystery that doesn't drag.

Illicit Sussex - Bat Out of Hell review by CH

The recent death of Sylvia Syms prompts a look through the catalogue of her films, and brings with it the pleasing discovery of Bat out of Hell (1966). Filmed in five twenty-five-minute episodes, this was shown week by week on BBC 2 at the end of 1966 - and seen at a swoop six decades later proves a diverting take on events murderous around Chichester.

Presented by Francis Durbridge, this was another of that prolific author’s way with cliffhanging thrillers. In this case Sylvia Syms has been married for several years to prosperous and incredibly stuffy upscale estate agent Noel Johnson while taking up with his assistant John Thaw.

Such is this illicit passion that they opt for disposing of him - and, indeed, he gets to appear only in the first episode even though there are signs that he could yet rise from the grave. One can well imagine a version of this going the rounds of provincial theatres but, here, it gains considerably not only from an array of interiors (from a sweet shop, large jars and all, to a manor house) but well-filmed exteriors: it is a shot of the well-known Black Rabbit pub beside the river outside Arundel that makes those in the know realise that we are indeed in West Sussex.

All concerned are on good form, diction clipped to good effect, although one might question the nose of the Inspector (Dudley Foster) which appears to have been stuck on at an odd angle while he appears to aspire to, without achieving, the enigma that was Priestley’s eponymous character.

Of course, one should not overlook the part played by motor cars, from a workhorse Cortina to a stallion substitute Aston Martin - and the unseen Bentley forbidden by the wife of its prospective purchaser.