I bet every culture around the world has some variation of the old American standard of parents asking their kids that, if their friends jumped off a bridge, whether they would follow suit. Given that, I assume there is a British equivalent, and all I can wonder is whether the parents of the bikers in 1973’s Psychomania ever tried that on their offspring.
Nicky Henson is the leader of the gang The Living Dead and he has discovered it is possible to die and come back. The process is as simple as having complete faith at the moment of your demise that you are going to return. And, as he puts it, once you’re dead, you can’t die again.
He had died by tearing through a bridge guardrail at high speed and going into the river a few stories down. Having gone off that bridge, most of his friends are all too happy to do the same. I can almost hear the heads of those parents shaking slowly in shame.
The one he can’t convince to cross over to the other side is his girlfriend, Mary Larkin.
Admittedly, I knew from the beginning she would have a crisis of conscience and separate herself from the group. After all, the names of the members are on their jackets, and most the gang is named things like “Hatchet” and “Chopped Meat” and in the appropriate font. Hers is Abby, and it is written like she is a happy girl of elementary school age.
I can identify with Larkin, as I don’t fully understand why Henson and the others think it is a great plan. First, I think the end arrives for any us soon enough, regardless of the actions we take (or fail to take) which result in it. Second, after my own demise, I would not want to return to this world and spend an eternity in it. But that’s just me, and I can remember how differently I would have felt back when I was the age these actors are supposed to be.
Two actors are considerable outliers for the average age of the cast. Beryl Reid is Henson’s mother, and she had made a pact with some sort of malevolent supernatural force when he was an infant. As part of that arrangement, the being she signed the contract with is George Sanders. Curiously, he is the apparently the only servant in the house, though he is clearly the most knowledgeable person in the film and not at all subservient. I especially liked this exchange between Reid and Sanders following Henson’s temporary demise: “He’s coming back isn’t he?” “Yes. [concerned] Do you want him back?” “Yes, God help me. I do.”
I have now seen this film two times and I’m still not entirely sure why I like it. There are obvious plot holes and there are more I can sense but to which I can chosen to remain oblivious. Some superficial elements I like are the score, which often channels a sort of melancholy that was perfected in that for The Virgin Suicides. Even the title fonts are perfect for the material, being the kind, and even the color, that could have been used on the covers of early albums by The Moody Blues.
The opening credit sequence properly set the tone and setting, as the motorcycles move in a ritualistic pattern between the stones of an ancient stone circle known as The Seven Witches. I was surprised this was not an actual location, but one made for the film, as it looks quite realistic.
Among the elements of the film I refuse to believe is the gang not experiencing any disruptions when they bury Henson at what has to be a historically preserved site. One very interesting aspect of the burial is he is buried upright on his bike. And here I thought Ben Johnson being interred upright in Westminster Abbey was odd.
There were a wealth of bonus features accompanying Psychomania on the blu-ray disc on which I watched this. Something I found a bit depressing about many of the interviews is many of those who were in this are now embarrassed to have done so. But I doubt anybody was as depressed by being in this as Sanders, as he committed suicide shortly afterwards. The unique note he left behind said he was bored with life. I hope he wasn’t bored while making this, but at least the resulting film is far from dull.
Dir: Don Sharp
Starring George Sanders, Beryl Reid, Nicky Henson, Mary Larkin
Watched as part of Severin’s blu-ray box set All the Haunts Be Ours: A Compendium of Folk Horror Vol. 2