1970’s The Man Who Haunted Himself is weirdly prescient in regard to a single line. Roger Moore, still three years away from his debut as Bond, says of corporate espionage that there are more forms of espionage in form alone than what is in the Bond movies.
Here, Moore is an executive of the type who wears a bowler hat and carries an umbrella at all times. It’s like he’s about to be in one of two Python skits, either “Upper-Class Twit of the Year” or “Ministry of Silly Walks”. He is of that class where the family not only has a butler but lives in a house with a name. A conversation with his wife reveals his stoicism as he says he doesn’t see any point in changing his routine and she replies, “I’ll put that on your tombstone.”
He’s also very big on safety. When we first see him, there’s a close-up of him fastening his seat beat. On the motorway, there will be a shot of the speedometer decreasing at one point. Then he seems to go into a trance. Next thing you know, he’s unfastening the seat belt and flooring the accelerator. Flying through a construction barrier, the car is soon spinning out of control so completely and for so long that I thought he must have somehow ended up on an ice skating rink.
When he finally does crash, his injuries are severe enough to put him on the operating table. He momentarily dies during the procedure. When he is resuscitated, the heart monitor initially shows two heartbeats. I was amused when a no-nonsense assistant smacks the machine and it reverts to showing only one pulse. Just smack the supernatural weirdness right outta that thang.
After his recovery, Moore has an increasing number of unnerving conversations with people who recall recent encounters with him where he could not have been present. At first, these are relatively innocuous, such as the perfect billiards game he played at his club the previous Thursday despite being away on holiday. Prety soon, he’s being accused of having an affair with Olga Georges-Picot, which it seems he should be able to recall. His mysterious doppelganger has also been in secret talks with the chief competitor of the firm he works for.
I like how Moore’s character approaches this absurd scenario logically, first coming to the conclusion somebody is trying to set him up. Of course, he’s hallway to the truth, as he is pulling his own chain. But the evidence of the impossible continues to mount up. At first the only evidence of his alter-ego are the matches he finds that the evil Moore habitually snaps in two. Soon, he is finding himself one step behind his doppelganger, receiving such reactions from others as, “Oh, you’re back. I thought you went to play some snooker.” Eventually, he is talking to himself on the phone.
This was the last film made by Basil Dearden, who had a long career of good-to-great films. He is in my pantheon of great directors even if only taking into account my favorite heist film, The League of Gentlemen. His continued interest in trying new things is evident in a couple of contemporary flourishes such as some novel effects in the final act.
Moore is better in The Man Who Haunted Himself than in most of the other works I’ve seen him in. He is allowed to show more range than he was otherwise allowed to show, especially vulnerability. I wonder what his career would have been like if he had never been cast as Bond. I’m sure his bank account would be nowhere near as impressive, but I suspect he would have had more opportunities to do work which would allow him to grow as an actor.
Dir: Basil Dearden
Starring Roger Moore, Hildegard Neil, Alastair Mackenzie
Watched on Kino Lorber blu-ray