10 Favourite Films Featuring Brits Abroad

The concept for this post originated during a period of being stranded overseas earlier this year. The war kicking off in the Middle East, made flights home extra difficult. Since returning, I have been considering how to develop the idea of films that portray British folk abroad. Whether for holiday, work or permanent residence, I intend to list my favourites in cinema.

Issues arose when I deviated from the initial concept by including war movies or films with a war-adjacent theme. Additionally, films featuring the one British supporting character were excluded. I also encountered difficulties with the nationalities of actors and the characters they portrayed. This was particularly tricky with the film Wake in Fright (1971), where I was uncertain whether John Grant, the film's protagonist, was English or an Australian, despite his obvious accent. Largely due to Donald Pleasence being a Brit playing an Australian opposite him. Similarly, Tom from Who Could Kill a Child? is an English character, but Lewis Fiander, who portrays him, is an Australian. These inconsistencies were a significant headache, and I just wanted to get it done.

I was compelled to complete this task before the end of the summer holidays as posting after that timeframe would be considered late. Most British people return home from their holidays before September, so publishing this blog post now felt appropriate.

The Lady Vanishes (Alfred Hitchcock, 1938)

Set in the fictional European country of Bandrika, The Lady Vanishes is a film about a British tourist who notices the disappearance of an elderly passenger on her train. As she investigates the mystery, she is confronted by numerous instances of gaslighting from the other travellers. Fortunately, she is aided by a musician who believes in her story.

Margaret Lockwood and Michael Redgrave are remarkably compelling playing the leads. Their electric chemistry is a significant factor to what makes the film so appealing. However, the supporting characters, predominantly consisting of other British tourists, is what qualifies The Lady Vanishes for this criteria. Caldicott and Charters, serve as precursors to C-3PO and R2-D2 thanks to their comical remarks. Their obsession to arrive in Manchester on time for a test match, makes them the most enthusiastic cricket fans you’ll ever see on film.

Hitchcock’s classic signature style and elements are all there, even for such an early film from the legendary director.

Dracula Prince of Darkness (Terence Fisher, 1966)

A prime example of British entitlement overseas. The Kents, our naive English tourists, disregard all warnings to avoid the region of Karlsbad, Hammer’s fictionalised name for what is essentially Transylvania. It's to their regret and our entertainment, regardless.

After being abandoned in the forest by their coachman, the foursome are greeted by a driverless carriage that transports them to Castle Dracula. Despite their dire situation, they remain convinced they have been rescued. While there, they encounter the sinister Kolve, the creepy servant, who offers them hospitality from his deceased master. “You know, if only that coachman knew it, he did us a favour by abandoning us.” Charles Kent remarks. The saps even raise a toast to the Count. The equivalent of turkeys voting for Christmas.

This culminates in Alan Kent’s murder by Kolve. Hoisted over a sarcophagus containing Dracula’s remains, Alan is subsequently slashed in the throat and the iconic Kensington gore resurrects the Count, in a remarkably disturbing effects scene. That same night, Alan’s distressed wife (unknowingly a widow), Helen (the First Lady of Hammer, Barbara Shelley), becomes the Count’s vampire wench.

Too bad Helen succumbed to the undead, as she was the only one with any real intuition, and the least annoying Brit in the entire film. Almost a wasted effort for Andrew Keir's Father Sandor to come along and rescue the remaining Kents, as it’s doubtful the toffee-nosed couple even learnt anything from their ordeal.

The Italian Job (Peter Collinson, 1969) 

Following his release from prison, Charlie Croker is persuaded by the widow of his former partner to proceed with the heist he had masterminded in Turin, Italy. The crime would involve dozens of individuals, numerous vehicles and an engineered traffic jam. All of which during an England away match and in broad daylight. The situation becomes more complex and perilous when Charlie realises the potential of having to contend with the mafia as well as the police.

The appeal of this comedy crime caper lies in its encapsulation of 1960s British optimism during its period of pop cultural prominence. Hence, such an audacious and intricate heist executed by a diverse class of characters, including cheeky Cockneys and ‘chinless wonders’, reflects the broad spectrum of Britishness on film. This is spearheaded by Michael Caine’s Croker, among a cast of recognisable actors including Noël Coward, Robert Powell and Benny Hill.

The film’s most iconic scenes are undoubtedly the ones involving the red, white and blue Mini Coopers. Sadly, there's little time to mourn for their destruction, before the literal cliffhanger ending.

It's completely unsurprising that The Italian Job has become a TV favourite during bank holidays, festive events and national sporting occasions. An instant patriotic shot in the arm for all Brits; which is ironic, given it’s about a gang of British criminals going overseas to pillage.

And Soon the Darkness (Robert Fuest, 1970)

Jane and Cathy, two English nurses on a cycling holiday in France, temporarily separate after an argument over their travel plans. This decision proves ill-advised, as they soon realise the dangers of being completely alone in an unfamiliar country.

Robert Fuest’s paranoia-fuelled thriller emphasises the perils of being a stranger in a foreign land. This is particularly challenging for the pair of young women, who are constantly leered at by men and a language barrier that further adds to their insecurities. Hence, there is a deliberate uncertainty in the intentions of the few locals offering assistance. Paul, the suave-looking moped driver, who constantly watches them from afar, being a major example.

Pamela Franklin delivers an understated performance as sensible Janet in what is arguably final girl prototype material. Brian Clemens and Terry Nation’s screenplay is full of unexpected twists and turns, which always makes this a compelling viewing, especially when the film is largely set on a French country road. This is complimented by Fuest's direction managing the rare triumvirate of suspense, dread, and terror in broad daylight. The end result, is a superb Hitchcockian-style thriller.

Carry On Abroad (Peter Rogers, 1972)

Pub landlord Vic Flange’s plans to go on holiday to the Mediterranean island of Elsbells with voluptuous, local widow Sadie Tompkins have been rumbled by his wife, Cora. Despite her travelling apprehensions, Cora would prefer to accompany her husband, just to keep a watchful eye on him. Thus, she’s another Brit holidayer on the Wundatours Travels package holiday.

The rest of the holidaymaker ensemble are introduced while boarding the coach to the airport. They include: Stanley Blunt, a sexually deprived husband and his prudish and domineering other half Evelyn; alcoholic mummy’s boy Eustace Tuttle; brash Scotsman Bert Conway; girlfriends Lily and Marge, on the hunt for blokes; Nicholas and his possessive gay friend Robin; and a group of twelve monks, including Brother Bernard, who is struggling to adapt to his new life in the religious order. All managed by Wandatours Travels representative Stuart Farquhar and his attractive assistant Moira Plunkett.

It turns out the Elbells Hotel remains under construction when they arrive there. Despite this, Pepe the multi-role proprietor is insistent on accepting guests. Thus, our British holidaymakers experience a series of unfortunate events where they’re barely fed, bitten by mosquitoes, disturbed from their sleep by construction workers, and deprived of any personal privacy. Fortunately, a brawl outside a local brothel, a spiked punch bowl, and in the case of Mrs. Blunt, an adulterous couple of hours with, Georgio, the hotel barman, transform the holiday from Hell into a blast. There’s a vital lesson to be taught here, but I can’t think of it.

Talbot Rothwell’s comedy dialogue is exceptional in this film. The scene where the Flanges and Blunts share a dinner table is a prime example of his writing talent. Vic offers to pour wine for the prudish Evelyn.

Evelyn Blunt: Not for me, thank you!

Vic Flange: No? You don’t drink?

Evelyn Blunt: No, I tried it once and didn’t like it.

Vic Flange: Oh! Have a smoke?

Evelyn Blunt: I tried it once and didn’t like it.

Vic Flange: Strange.

Evelyn Blunt: Not at all. My daughter is just the same.

Vic Flange: You’re only child, I presume.

Slide whistles and double entendres! This is a favourite of mine from the Carry On films. At this stage in the franchise, the cast and crew are so familiar with one another, that their chemistry feels completely natural. I also appreciate the construction of Helsbells Beach, which was created using a pile of sand and deckchairs in the parking lot of Pinewood Studios. Really remarkable how much can be achieved with a low budget.

The world isn't ready for Peter Rogers being considered one of the most prolific directors of all time.

Horror Express (Eugenio Martin, 1972)

Professor Sir Alexander Saxton, a palaeontologist, makes a groundbreaking discovery when he finds what he believes is the missing link in human evolution, preserved in the caves of Manchuria. He is determined to return to England with his find and boards the Trans-Siberian Express. There he is met by his rival Dr Wells, a mad monk and a series of horrifying deaths, before the cossacks join in.

When the frozen missing link is revealed to be an alien energy that  kills and possesses its victims, paranoia ensues. A detective remarks that either one of the pair of scientist scould also be the alien fiend. The insulted Dr. Wells responds with one of my favourite retorts: "Monster? We're British, you know."  

Based on John W. Campbell’s Who Goes There?, the source material for both The Thing from Another World (1951) and John Carpenter’s remake The Thing (1982), Horror Express is a also a cult classic, in its own right. Renowned for being a brilliant science fiction horror story, Eugenio Martin compliments it with a chilling atmosphere and genuinely terrifying scenes which haven't dated; notably the bleeding blank eyes. The film is also notable for sterling performances by two legendary British actors who portray the aforementioned English scientists.

Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee have appeared in numerous films together, but Horror Express is arguably the film in which they share the best chemistry. The film also benefits from a period setting and old fashioned characters which imbue it with a classic Hammer horror feel, rather than the Spanish production that it really is.

Who Can Kill a Child? (Chicho Ibáñez Serrador, 1976)

Following a disturbing, black-and-white documentary-style introduction, depicting children as victims of numerous manmade conflicts worldwide, we meet Tom and Evelyn, an English couple on holiday in Spain. Tom is eager to take his pregnant wife to Almanzora, a remote island he once visited before; untouched by the hustle and bustle of tourism. Upon arrival, they discover the adults are missing and the children behaving very strangely.

When Tom and Evelyn eventually encounter an adult, it’s an elderly man being beaten to death with his walking stick by a giggling young girl. Tom becomes even more horrified when the victim is hoisted onto the rafters and used by the children as a sick type of piñata. Tom attempts to shield Evelyn from the truth but is unsuccessful as the children eventually pursue the English couple.

The manner in which the children became psychotic murderers is not clearly explained, but it appears that their psychopathy is transmitted to other youngsters like a telepathic virus.

Grim, downbeat and utterly enthralling, Who Can Kill a Child? is one of the most underrated ‘70s horror movies ever.

Zombie Flesh Eaters (Lucio Fulci, 1979)

After a pair of patrolmen encounter an undead looking CeeLo Green on a boat adrift in New York's harbour, a young American woman and a British journalist travel to the Caribbean island of Matool to uncover the mystery of her missing father and how on earth a zombie was on his boat.

This peak era Fulci film is blessed with a beatbox-worthy theme, Tisa Farrow seemingly having no clue what is going on, the most W.A.S.P.y-looking Italian actor ever, and an unforgettable underwater fight scene between a shark and a zombie. But what makes Zombie Flesh Eaters also special is watching a couple of English thespians treating this ultra gory, Italian splatterfest classic with the same level of professionalism as a Michelangelo Antonioni film.

Richard Johnson plays the dishevelled Dr. Maynard, obsessing over the supernatural phenomena of the dead coming back to life. His research comes at the expense of neglecting his rightfully hysterical wife, who is also stuck on Matool with him. Meanwhile, Ian McCulloch is hilarious as the investigative journalist Peter West trying it on as an action man with a ridiculous comb over. Both British characters make valiant attempts to keep a stiff upper lip in this unofficial sequel to Dawn of Dead. Therefore, it's all the more fun when their British reserve clashes with Fulci's sense of nihilism.”Out there! They're coming back to life! They're everywhere!”  

Sexy Beast (Jonathan Glazer, 2000)

Retired gangster Gary ‘Gal’ Dove is living a comfortable life with his wife DeeDee in their sun-kissed villa in Spain. The couple spend their days with friends Aitch and Jackie. While tanning his leathery hide, a boulder rolls down the nearby mountain and shatters the double-heart tiles of Gal’s swimming pool. This accident proves to be an ominous sign, as Don Logan, a former colleague of Gal’s, announces his arrival.

Don’s objective is to enrol Gal in a London heist orchestrated by his superior, Teddy Bass. However, Don’s refusal to accept no from the former safecracker leads to the expatriates being subjected to a tirade of intimidation by the ruthless psychopath; with Gal being the most severely affected. When the foursome foolishly think they are rid of the London gangster, their living nightmare returns back to them after intentionally and hilariously getting himself kicked off his plane.

I feel obligated to quote Don Logan's comical get-out-of-jail dialogue whilst being detained by airport security, as it could have very easily been a short skit off the foul-mouthed Derek & Clive comedy albums: 

Don Logan: Before you start, I wanna say something. Let me ask you something, please. Have you ever been sexually assaulted? No, neither have I. Until today, on that plane.

Airport Security Officer: What?

Don Logan: Yeah! That's what I said. There's me putting my bag up in the cupboard, next thing you know, I feel hands on me. Someone's touched me, touched my front... my front bottom. I can't believe it! I've gone all cold. I look 'round. He's standing there, isn't he? That steward with a guilty look on his face. I was shocked, I didn't know what to say. I had to sit down, I was that perturbed. And then his mate, the other one, who was giving us all lessons on what we'll all do if we land in the sea, how to work your life jacket etc, he starts and all. Starts looking at me all funny. Suggestive. Now, I don't know whether they wanted me for a twos-up, or something, I don't know how they work it, but I'll tell you what, it scared me, I was shaking like a leaf. So, without thinking, I lit up a cigarette to calm me nerves. I was trembling. I was very emotional. And that's when all the rest of it happened. It's very regrettable. Now, I don't want to kick up a fuss, right? Press charges, contact the British Embassy. I'd rather not pursue those channels. Not my style. Not that sort of a bloke. I wouldn't want to lose the man his job. A man's got to eat. And, I'm sure he's not representative of all you Spanish people. But I would appreciate it if you have a word with him. Let him know he's been rumbled. It's the one with the ginger hair. 

Ray Winstone and Ben Kingsley deliver phenomenal performances; the latter’s acidic verbal abuse and menacing appearance are particularly noteworthy, while Winstone contrasts it with perfect nuance to balance the film. Additionally, Ian McShane delivers a brooding and threatening performance as Teddy, which is not as widely recognised as it deserves to be.

Overall, Jonathan Glazer’s debut is a masterpiece that stands well and truly above the once popular wave of British gangster films released in the late 1990s and early 2000s. Today, its peers are largely forgotten, while Sexy Beast has gained even greater recognition as a landmark of British cinema.

Berberian Sound Studio (Peter Strickland, 2012)

When British sound engineer Gilderoy is hired to work on a film in Rome, he did not anticipate that The Equestrian Vortex would be an Italian horror film. Its egotistical director, Giancarlo Santini, wouldn't call it that, however. The film maker even feels insulted by the description: “This is not a horror film. This is not a horror film. This is a Santini film.”

A significant aspect of Peter Strickland’s film is the psychologically abusive treatment of the timid English sound engineer by both the production staff and the various eccentric individuals in the studio. With the exception of Silvia, a voice actress, they are openly rude and hostile towards him. Despite his creative sound engineering skills, he is assigned menial tasks such as chopping fruit and vegetables for foley work. All to replicate the sounds of the various decapitations and dismemberments we never see in Santini's film. Furthermore, he is subjected to an unending bureaucratic delay when attempting to claim a refund for his flight expenses. The entire experience is hell for our reserved protagonist, who opines to be back home in the English suburbs.

Berberian Sound Studio becomes increasingly surreal over its duration, leaving the viewer uncertain whether the strange events are real or a product of Gilderoy’s unhinged imagination. The metaphorical levels of a stranger in a strange land become more apparent when the protagonist becomes consumed by the film himself. At one point he appears on screen, subsequentially talking in fluent Italian, too. Thus, the lines of reality are blurred. Which makes Berberian Sound Studio similar to most of David Lynch's films. 

 

Honourable mentions: The Man Who Would Be King (1975) and Deep Red (1975).

I only watched Our Man in Havana (1959) for the very first time a few days ago, and as much I really liked it, I thought it was a bit rich if I included it here. 

Beastly Behaviour

Marquis (Henri Xhonneux, 1989)

Portrayals of historical figures or past events on film can often stray from the truth. Perhaps it's for creative reasons. Whether to offer a different perspective, subvert expectations, or appeal to a contemporary audience, historical facts can potentially be susceptible to being revised. Take the French nobleman and libertine writer Donatien Alphonse François, better known as the Marquis de Sade. His association with blasphemy, perversity and depravity is so well known that his very name is now a part of our lexicon to describe people who seek pleasure from those pursuits (and it's the professional name of the Soul singer Helen Folasade Adu, might I add). Therefore, it is somewhat disconcerting whenever de Sade is depicted in popular culture with a sense of romanticism as a sort of free speech activist. A bit like the contemporary view amongst 21st-century nerds that Velma Dinkley is more attractive than Daphne Blake.

Belgian director Henri Xhonneux (what an awesome surname) and his French co-screenwriter Roland Topor adopt this revisionism, and take it a step even further with an unorthodox approach on the libertine pervert in their 1989 film Marquis. What makes their idolised offering unique, is the use of anthropomorphic animals portraying all the characters. Actors wearing striking animal based animatronic masks, and partaking in acts unsuitable for Sunday afternoon television, make this an appealing proposition for purveyors of out-there cinema. Disney, this is not. Furthermore, our eponymous protagonist, played by François Marthouret, resembles a Spaniel dog, and spends the majority of the film talking to his ginormous, talking penis Colin (Valérie Kling). Cock and Spaniel!

They are both held in the Bastille, the infamous state prison which became a symbol of the French Revolution. De Sade is imprisoned there for the crime of religious blasphemy. While there, both he and his talkative appendage pass the time with stories. Colin presents his master with surreal and erotic concepts which are developed into popular novella by the Marquis. These are featured in the film as short and horrifying claymation sequences. These stories have made the Marquis a national celebrity. Colin also serves as his master’s most vocal critic, notably pointing out his excessive use of verbs in his writing. Amusingly, de Sade constructs a miniature puppet theatre for Colin to entertain him in. The surreal nature of a dog human conversing with a large talking penis is heightened even further by the addition of the latter in a costume and wig.

Within the Bastille, we are introduced to other unusual animal-human hybrids. Justine (Isabelle Wolfe), a bovine commoner, is the central figure in a conspiracy involving her carrying the unborn child of the king, who had forcibly taken her. To avoid scandal, the lecherous priest, Don Pompero (Vicky Messica), devises a plan with the Bastille’s governor, Gaëtan de Preaubois (René Lebrun), to implicate de Sade as the father of Justine’s child. Unbeknownst to them, the repugnant, rodent-looking jailer, Ambert has also had his wicked way with Justine and believes the unborn sprog is his. However, he is far more interested in the Marquis. He yearns to be buggered by the prisoner, and is willing to make life all the more unpleasant for the Marquis unless he obliges. In another section of the prison, two other inmates, the former Chief of Police Lupino, now involved with the bourgeois revolutionaries, and his gluttonous cellmate Pigonou, are planning an escape with the assistance of Juliette, a dominatrix mare.

The characters and various subplots interconnect over the course of the film, and it makes you appreciate just how well put together a perverse effort like this is.

The film’s primary draw is undoubtedly the use of anthropomorphic characters. Topor also designed the characters in Marquis and their distinctive features are immediately captivating. The uncanny valley association with these animal-human hybrids is complemented by their personality traits reflecting their animal likeness. For instance, the bovine Josephine is surprisingly docile and accommodating given her dire circumstances. In contrast, the rooster-like Gaëtan de Preaubois is full of vigour and cocky in his physical expressions and movements. This is a production decision one would expect to find in an animated children’s feature, such as a Disney adventure. Hence, this makes Marquis feel like a subversive perversion of family-friendly content, given it features an orgy, S&M, and sodomy with a crayfish to name but a few examples.

The decision to use claymation for the short stories was a wise choice. The crudeness and simplicity of stop-motion, renders the extreme content less disturbing. Drastically softening what potentially might have been the most nightmarish sections of an already outrageous film. Nevertheless, they are notable highlights.

Marquis’s closest relative is Peter Jackson’s Meet the Feebles (1989), an adult-oriented take of Jim Henson’s legendary creation The Muppet Show. However, Jackson’s film is more blatant with its intention to shock, whereas Xhonneux’s effort comes across as less exploitative. Despite their graphic nature, they work within the context of the film. Thus, I believe both Xhonneaux and Topor were focused on a narrative primarily rather than merely delivering strong content for the sake of controversy. I think it’s evident in both the professionalism of its production crew and the mature performances of its cast. 

The film was produced after Xhonneux and Topor completed their popular children’s television programme Téléchat (1983–1986). The series ran for 234 episodes and featured anthropomorphic puppets presenting the news in a satirical manner. Both creators felt the desire to work on a completely different project to Téléchat; to cleanse their palates. With the approaching bicentennial of the French Republic, a historical film relating to the birth of the nation seemed topically apt. Thus, Marquis was conceived.

Topor was a prolific individual whose talents extended into the creative arts. He co-wrote and illustrated René Laloux’s surreal, science fiction feature Fantastic Planet (La Planète sauvage, 1973) and starred as Renfield in Werner Herzog’s 1979 remake of Nosferatu. Perhaps his most significant contribution to cinema was as the author of The Chimeric Tenant (AKA Le Locataire chimérique), which was adapted into Roman Polanski’s 1976 film The Tenant - the third entry in his Apartment trilogy.

Apart from films based on the Marquis de Sade and his works, I haven't read any of his books, but I would hazard a guess they would be moderately tame by today's standards. When you have clit-lit, furry fantasy Morning Glory Milking Farm (a novel for lonely women, who yearn to wank off a Minotaur) being a best-selling book, you know the standards of depravity have definitely slipped. I digress, of course.

I have faint memories of seeing production stills of Marquis, possibly in the pages of the now-defunct Cinefex magazine, during my visits to Forbidden Planet in the 1980s and early 1990s. I was aware of the film’s notoriety, but it was far too obscure for the average teenaged film obsessive to track down back then. Today, however, the film is much easier to find, thanks to t'internet. Marquis was recently released on Blu-Ray as a limited edition by Mondo Macabro, a specialist distributor of unusual world films, and this unearthed my long-buried recollection of the lewd French film with anamorphic animals. I purchased it before it completely sold out.

Turns out Marquis lived up to my weird expectations and also surprised me with being a well produced film full of satire. More importantly, it's the type of taboo costume drama that appeals to my sensibilities, rather than the sleep-inducing, endlessly overpraised, Charlotte Brontë-like material that is always everywhere. I was also unprepared for a emotionally affecting farewell scene between a giant talking penis and a canine human hybrid. For that, I feel incredibly fortunate to have (re)discovered such an eccentric film. I don’t think I’ll see anything else like this again anytime soon, which makes Marquis all the more precious. Worth tracking down for fans of utterly bizarre European cinema.

As the World Burns

The Day the Earth Caught Fire (Val Guest, 1961)

The enduring British heatwave provides an opportune time to revisit the prescient science fiction classic The Day the Earth Caught Fire (1961), written by Val Guest and Wolf Mankowitz. Guest’s impressive filmography as a director reflected the thriving health of the British film industry through the 1950s; as evidenced by The Quatermass Xperiment (1955), Quatermass 2 (1957) and The Abominable Snowman (1957) for Hammer Films. The decline would also be mirrored by his sex comedies Au Pair Girls (1972) and Confessions of a Window Cleaner (1974). Fortunately, The Day the Earth Caught Fire was produced during a period when both the quality of Guest’s output and the state of British cinema were far healthier. Nevertheless, the filmmaker had to utilise his own influence and establish a production company to bring this personal passion project to fruition. The film was not considered a desirable property by other studios. 

Presented in a striking yellow hue, The Day the Earth Caught Fire opens with a car announcing an important countdown as it drives through a dystopian Piccadilly Circus, in central London. The purpose of this announcement, is yet to be revealed. The scene transitions to a solitary man walking through a deserted Fleet Street, the hub of the British press. This man is Peter Stenning (Edward Judd in his first lead role), a journalist at the Daily Express, who is unable to write what might potentially be his final article and that of mankind, because the ink ribbon of his typewriter has turned into a molten sludge. He finds a work around by transcribing it to the perspiring copy desk worker on the other end of his phone.

“It is exactly 30 minutes since the corrective bombs were detonated. Within the next few hours, the world will know whether this is the end or another beginning. The rebirth of man or his final obituary. For the last time, man pursued his brother with a sword, and so the final fire was kindled. The Earth that was to live forever was blasted by a great wind towards oblivion. It is strange to think that barely 90 days ago…” — Peter Stenning

Before Stenning can finish his monologue, The Day the Earth Caught Fire flashes back to a more palatable monochrome visual, depicting the busy offices of the Daily Express. It’s raining outside. Amidst reports of floods in Ascot and earthquakes in Jakarta, an even more concerning hot scoop has occurred: the simultaneous detonation of two atomic bombs by the United States and the Soviet Union. Stenning is reintroduced in a less ominous context.

Due to a messy divorce, it is revealed that our once gifted journalist has hit a career slump, and the bottle. If not for the watchful care of his professional colleague, science editor Bill Maguire (the best Number Two from The Prisoner, Leo McKern), Stenning would have already been out on his ear by now. In the wake of the detonations, our protagonist is sent on a menial task by the paper to learn more about the recent increase of sunspots. The’ve been causing havoc on aerial transmissions. After barging his way to speak with the big cheese at the British Met Office, our reporter encounters Jeannie Craig (Janet Munro), a typist there who Stenning had been rude to during an earlier phone conversation. He subsequently receives a slap in the face from her. Even more humbling for our protagonist, he misses his sunspots article deadline, and it’s Maguire who saves his skin, by both writing the article and crediting it to Stenning.

Despite its sensationalist title, The Day the Earth Caught Fire approaches its outlandish premise with maturity and intelligence. This is largely due to the enduring relevance of its anti-bomb message and its prophetic vision on extreme climate change. The gravitas of the premise is reflected with the absence of a dedicated score. No bongos in this '60s science fiction film!

The nuclear detonations have caused widespread outrage. While attending a nuclear disarmament protest in Trafalgar Square, Stenning witnesses an unexpected solar eclipse. Along with the unusual weather conditions occurring globally, the Daily Express’s editor-in-chief Jeff Jefferson (played by real life editor Arthur Christiansen, delivering some truly amateur levels of acting in the few scenes he is in) hypothesises that all the phenomena are linked to the nuclear tests. Evidently, he isn’t the only one who believes this, hence an unexpected television broadcast by the government denying the connection.

The record breaking heatwave is felt all over the nation. After spending quality time at the funfair with his young son, Stenning has a chance encounter with Jeannie once again, while she is sunbathing by the Thames river. This time, it’s a much friendlier meeting between the two, and the potential of a romance appears to be on the cards. “Look there’s a lunch place down there, by the boating pool. We can get fish and chips and pretend we’re in Venice.” Classy. During the flirtations, the local crowd rushes to the edge of the Thames. An eerie fog, not unlike the luminescent one from John Carpenter’s 1980 film The Fog, envelops the entire city. Maguire theorises that the heat mist is the result of the melting of the polar ice caps. He further speculates that the unusual weather conditions can be explained by a shift in the Earth’s axis caused by the two atomic tests. Maguire’s hypothesis is confirmed when Jeannie reluctantly turns whistleblower. The global emergency is further worsened when Jefferson’s source in the Soviet Union reveals that the Earth’s orbit has been disrupted by the atomic tests, and has sent the planet hurtling towards the sun. 

The meticulous attention to the film’s three main characters fosters a strong emotional connection with them. Edward Judd’s character undergoes the most development throughout the film; from his initial saturnine state of personal despair, to receiving a new lease of life with his relationship with Munro’s Jeannie. Val Guest appears to favour having Janet Munro in compromising situations that emphasise her physical attributes and vulnerability. One notable example is her home being invaded by a cult of doomsday beatniks, terrorising her while she is naked in her bath. One wanders what would have happened had Stenning not come to her rescue in time. I find it reminiscent of the motel scene in Touch of Evil (1958), where a menacing gang of leather jacketed, greased-haired juveniles drug and abduct a helpless Janet Leigh. Rounding the trio off, is Leo McKern’s Maguire, who, beneath all the world-weary cynicism, offers a paternal-like helping hand to Stenning (“Tell me about sunspots, Daddy!”), giving him multiple chances to redeem himself. Perhaps he perceives Stenning as a lab rat in determining whether or not mankind can be redeemed.

Val Guest manages to incorporate genuine newsreel disaster clips, as well as editing in actual footage from anti-bomb demonstrations into his film. They provide an air of cinéma vérité and build a sense of urgency and realism to his doomsday tale. In the context of the news, it is evident that Guest holds a high regard for the press; portraying it as an honourable profession, rather than the bunch of lying, manipulative bastards of today. The inclusion of Arthur Christiansen, a real editor with limited acting ability, in the film may be considered excessive for the sake of authenticity, but I’m willing to believe Guest might have perceived the journalistic class was cut from a different cloth back then. The director even includes the original Art Deco building on Fleet Street, which still remains as the London headquarters of the Daily Express to this day.

Beyond the three leads, the film’s appeal is further enhanced by its depiction of the British public’s reaction to the worsening ecological situation. Initially, the heatwave is met with widespread enjoyment, as women on the high street wear bikinis and revel in the sunny weather. However, when the heat mist blankets the city causing the public to become disoriented and unable to find their way home, concern begins to grow. When water amenities become scarce and force the populace into queues, the film depicts a return to the familiar wartime spirit. As society descends into chaos, particularly among younger generations, who engage in street parties and rioting, the narrative transitions from the whimsical style of the Ealing Studios film to the more sombre and nihilistic tone of science fiction films from the late 1960s and into the 1970s. Definitely a film ahead of its time, in many respects.

Filmed in a 2.35: 1 aspect ratio, The Day the Earth Caught Fire presents the devastation of extreme climate change in a panoramic view. Les Bowie’s special effects are particularly striking in this format. Familiar landmarks and cityscapes are smothered by an eerie fog or distorted by the scorching heat, creating a surreal atmosphere.

I feel obligated to mention a couple of uncredited actors in the film. Carry On stalwart Peter Butterworth appears in a few brief scenes as a Daily Express journalist. An unusual role for him, considering he is primarily associated with being a comedic actor. Finally, there is a minor bit part for a young Michael Caine as a policeman warning our Stenning to “Stay clear of Chelsea! They say it’s pretty rough down there”, in his ever so distinctive Cockney accent.

In a desperate attempt to correct this disaster, both the superpowers decide to detonate two additional bombs, at exactly the same positions as before, hoping to return the Earth back to its natural orbit. The film concludes with ambiguity regarding the outcome. Two Daily Express front pages are hanging off the printing press: one celebrating humanity’s successful attempt to save the world, and the other lamenting its total destruction. Stenning's final monologue reflecting the ambiguity of mankind's fate in the film.

“So man has sown the wind and reaped the whirlwind. Perhaps, in the next few hours, there will be no remembrance of the past and no hope for the future that might have been. All the works of man will be consumed in the great fire out of which he was created. But perhaps at the heart of the burning light into which he has thrust his world, there is a heart that cares more for him than he has ever cared for himself. And if there is a future for man, insensitive as he is, proud and defiant in his pursuit of power, let him resolve to live it lovingly, for he knows well how to do so. Then he may say once more, truly the light is sweet, and what a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to see the sun.” — Peter Stenning

Unless one considers the US release of the film, which added the sound of jubilant church bells signalling the world had been saved. This is not the only classic British film to have its finale altered for its transatlantic release. The 2005 film The Descent features a similarly upbeat alternative ending that was the basis for an inferior sequel.

Given its age, The Day the Earth Caught Fire may disappoint those expecting something more akin to a trashy science fiction B-movie. This is a distinctly more serious film with a heavy focus on character and emotional resonance. Beneath the veneer of the doomsday scenario lies a story of mankind as its central theme. There are no Martians intent on obliterating us; our destructive enemy is ourselves. And it is driven home by Val Guest's didactic sense of urgency that makes it even more relevant today.

The Day the Caught Fire is currently available on Blu-ray in the US by Kino Lorber and in the UK by the BFI.

The Enshittification of IMDb

The diminishing transformation of Internet Movie Database by Amazon is a prime example of enshittification. What was once the go-to film hub online has gradually turned into a platform that is now difficult to navigate, largely obsolete and filled with adverts.

The history of IMDb can be traced back to the 1980s when Col Needham, a British software engineer, created a database to collate data relating to various films he had watched. In 1990, he transformed it into a Usenet group. Three years later, it became a website on the fledgling World Wide Web. By 1998, the corporate monster that is Amazon had acquired it.

The late 1990s and 2000s were like the Wild West for internet users. Regulations were less stringent than they are today, as exemplified by the once infamous forums of IMDb. While some topics were trolled to oblivion with highly offensive comments, others provided informative help that expanded one's artistic tastes and horizons. IMDb was a prime (no pun intended) example of the proverbial double edged sword.

On 20 February 2017, IMDb permanently closed its message boards. The official reasons were a decline in traffic, users opting for alternative social platforms and the rise in toxic behaviour. Since then, the site’s appeal has greatly declined.

The search for relevant information became more challenging. For instance, adult films were unlisted. This necessitated Google searching (preferably in Incognito mode) an adult actor's link to their IMDb page; a cumbersome workaround and a risky endeavour while on a lunch break. A more recent change was seeing miscellaneous actors missing their birth year from their IMDb profile; information than can be found everywhere else. Furthermore, the pervasive promotion of Prime movies and TV shows dominated every page, even with the use of an ad blocker.

And now the ability to read user reviews has been removed for anyone not registered at IMDb. The official reason: to stop review bombing and trolling. Corporate jargon for the site to force you to sign up, gather your personal information and potentially sell it to a data brokers. User reviews were often more honest and less performative than those on Letterboxd, where narcissistic e-celebs were more concerned over their pithy one line reviews making it on the homepage and their follower numbers. Additionally, IMDb's user reviews were more prone to representing the normies. Hence, their movie insights tended to be more welcome thanks to their succinct honesty over the average “professional critic” compelled to flex their media literacy with bloviated analyses behind an online publication’s paywall.

For these reasons IMDb has become another fond resource reduced to obsolescence due to all its completely reductive and unnecessary changes. A site destined to be buried alongside MySpace, GeoCities and other defunct popular sites in the internet graveyard.

R.I.P.

Viewings: July 2026

This month’s selection is a case of the underdog and the outsider both rising to the top during the season of the summer flopbusters. Two exceptional films that are easily my two biggest 2026  highlights so far.

Curry Barker demonstrates that a YouTube filmmaker can produce an ultra-low-budget horror film that transcends its targeted Gen Z audience. Obsession’s phenomenal success can also be attributed to Inde Navarrette’s breakout performance. Good to know she maintains her grounded approach by continuing to produce Let’s Play videos while being one of the most talked-about actors of the summer.

Similarly, Kenji Tanigaki’s The Furious is a stand-out martial arts film, and exemplifies the superiority in quality of Asian brawlers over the typical fix-it-in-post Hollywood actioner. That five-man rumble is epic.

 

Film:

Any Old Port! (James W. Horne, 1932) ^♲

Invaders from Mars (William Cameron Menzies, 1953) ♲

The Gorgon (Terence Fisher, 1964) ♲

Westworld (Michael Crichton, 1973) ♲

Escape from New York (John Carpenter, 1981) ♲

To Live and Die in L.A. (William Friedkin, 1986) ♲

  Spontaneous Combustion (Tobe Hooper, 1989)

Falling Down (Joel Schumacher, 1993) ♲

Welcome II the Terrordome (Ngozi Onwurah, 1994)

Event Horizon (Paul W.S. Anderson, 1997) ♲

Cold Prey AKA Fritt Vilt (Roar Uthaug, 2006) ♲

Cold Prey II AKA Fritt Vilt II (Mats Stenberg, 2008) ♲

Cold Prey III AKA Fritt Vilt III (Mikkel Brænne Sandemose, 2010)

Diabolik (Antonio Manetti & Marco Manetti, 2021)

Diabolik: Ginko Attacks! (Antonio Manetti & Marco Manetti, 2022)

Diabolik: Who Are You? (Antonio Manetti & Marco Manetti, 2023)

Carolina Caroline (Adam Rehmeier, 2025/2026)

Dolly (Rod Blackhurst, 2025/2026)

The Drama (Kristoffer Borgli, 2026)

The Furious (Kenji Tanigaki, 2025/2026) 

Masters of the Universe (Travis Knight, 2026)

Obsession (Curry Barker, 2025/2026)

Vampires of the Velvet Lounge (Adam Sherman, 2026)

 

Television:

Object Z (Daphne Shadwell, 1965)

Doctor Who - Frontios (Ron Jones, 1984)

Doctor Who - Attack of the Cybermen (Matthew Robinson, 1985) 

FIFA World Cup 2026

Mastermind (2026/2027)

♲ Rewatch    ^ Short

Dada Debaser Notes:

• Apart from a smoking hot Miriam Leone, the only other positive aspect to the Manetti Bros’ Diabolik trilogy was that it prompted me to review the more accomplished 1968 film after God knows how long.
• Speaking of trilogies, I finally got around to watching the third and final part of the Cold Prey franchise. It’s a notable departure from the previous films in Norway’s flagship slasher series but decent, nonetheless.
• Tinfoil hat time: the critical reappraisal for the dystopian and horrendously awful Welcome II the Terrordome, which cashed in on Public Enemy's style and music, is nothing more than a convoluted effort to peddle the inevitable Criterion/BFI Blu-ray to gullible cinephiles. A similar deal to the revisionist love for Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles.
• "Where we're going, we won't need eyes to see." Event Horizon is more Hellraiser-in-space than what Hellraiser: Bloodline turned out to be. RIP Sam Neill!
• Carolina Caroline is a clichéd and mediocre Bonnie and Clyde tale made tolerable by Samara Weaving and Kyle Gallner's performances. Starting to think Dinner in America was a one hit wonder for Adam Rehmeier.
• Spontaneous Combustion is essentially Tobe Hooper doing Scanners. The film is a mess, but the pyrotechnic horror effects are genuinely good and Brad Dourif never disappoints.
• The Drama is filled with the most insufferable and cringe-worthy characters I've seen all year; and I've watched Primate and The Bride!

Always a pleasant surprise whenever I find a novelty extra included with a Blu-ray/4K UHD. Willem Dafoe's mug on a counterfeit $20 bill is the latest example of this inside Arrow's To Live and Die in L.A. packaging. Other goodies I hope to be included from the subgenre of crooked cop films are Harvey Keitel's school run coke from Bad Lieutenant (1992); the vomit pen from Training Day (2001); and Vince Vaughn's salt shaker from Dragged Across Concrete (2018).

The Man of Steal

Danger: Diabolik (Mario Bava, 1968)

Until recently, I had deliberately delayed reviewing Mario Bava’s deliriously, mad cap film Danger: Diabolik (1968) due to not having read any of the comics it was adapted from. The master thief known as Diabolik was created by Italian sisters Angela and Luciana Giussani in 1962. He was more of an anti-hero/villain, given his motivations and actions. From my understanding, the ingenious thief, with a maniacal laugh, would not hesitate to murder any innocent bystander who stood in his way. Hence, the book is allegedly more subversive than traditional comics of that era. Diabolik’s popularity spawned a whole sub-genre of Italian comics known as fumetti neri (dark comics) and gave rise to other notorious characters: Kriminal, Satanik and Sadik; some of which had their own film adaptations.

I found it challenging to locate an English translation of Diabolik . As an alternative, I decided to watch the recent trilogy of films directed by the Manetti Brothers: Diabolik (2021); Diabolik: Ginko Attacks! (2022) and Diabolik: Who Are You? (2024). Fans of the comic consider the trilogy to be more faithful to the source material compared to Bava’s film. After binge-watching all three films, I shan’t bother with the comic books. They are drab, dire and completely lifeless. The complete opposite of Bava's adaptation. All three of them are diabolically bad (I thought I was being clever here, but I'll probably regret typing that sentence whenever I reread this review). Therefore, I can confidently conclude Danger: Diabolik is the superior version; regardless of its deviation from the comic.

Danger: Diabolik is pure bork overload. A visually striking Italian-French co-production, characterised by Bava’s vibrant colour palette and camera wizardry; grandiose and opulent set designs; recognisable European actors in camp mode; and Il Maestro of film composers, Ennio Morricone, creating a distinctive blend of his trademark spaghetti western sounds, ecclesiastical organs, jazzy pop and lounge lizard muzak, furthering the psychedelic experience. The result is a demented Pop-Art film that easily sits between the early James Bond films and the kitsch Batman television series.

The film’s production history was fraught with difficulties. The Nanny’s Seth Holt was the original director when filming commenced in 1965; with Jean Sorel being cast as the titular character. Producer Dino De Laurentiis was dissatisfied with the dailies and production was brought to a halt until Mario Bava was hired to restart the film on a significantly reduced budget. Sorel was out by this time. Having already been familiar with the comic, John Phillip Law secured the lead after impressing De Laurentiis with his dastardly eyebrow expressions; a skill essential when having to wear a latex balaclava while racing around in a speedboat or a sport scar. Bava was unhappy with Catherine Deneuve as Eva Kent, Diabolik's beautiful girlfriend and partner in crime. The Austrian bombshell Marisa Mell was subsequently cast in her place. This proved to be a successful casting decision as Law and Mell exhibited great onscreen chemistry and contributed to the racy scenes in the film.

In terms of the film’s plot, Diabolik’s ingenious and daring heists have driven the nameless European country’s Minister of Interior, played by the gap-toothed, British toff Terry-Thomas, to extreme measures: by enforcing the death penalty on all criminals. His arch-nemesis, Inspector Ginko (Michel Piccoli), is counting on the crime syndicate, led by Ralph Valmont (Adolfo Celi, virtually reprising his villainous role as Emilio Largo from the 1965 James Bond film Thunderball) to rid them of the master thief. Following the kidnapping of his beloved Eva and a free-falling confrontation with Valmont, Diabolik steals the world’s largest gold ingot. Unaware that traces of the ingot were irradiated under Ginko’s orders, thus the objects serves as a homing device. This leads to the law's discovery of Diabolik’s secret lair and the film’s climactic finale.

Bava’s film presents an intriguing dynamic by positioning Diabolik against both law enforcement and the criminal underworld; forcing the master thief into an anti-hero. This is evident when he unleashes a bombing campaign against the state’s tax department after learning of their enforcement of the death penalty. By not permitting Diabolik to steal, he will reciprocate by preventing the government from doing the same. His anti-establishment and individualistic nature comes across as subversive and ahead of its time for a 1960s comic book character.

Danger: Diabolik is an exceptional visual experience for those who appreciate wonderfully eccentric and vibrant cinema. Mario Bava was a masterful filmmaker; renowned for his exquisite cinematic eye, autistic levels of detail to the mise-en-scène and ingenious visual effects. Bava demonstrated his ability to create a wonderfully whimsical and trippy comic book movie with the same care and attention to the sumptuous, atmospheric, gothic Italian horror he became renowned for. A very versatile and capable director, who was unjustly lumped as a poor man's Alfred Hitchcock.

The elaborate sets provide an exceptional playground that are a huge part to the film’s charm. The most notable is Diabolik’s underground lair. An eye-catching, post-modernist structure built within a vast cavern. It’s spectacular enough to rival some of Ernst Stavro Blofeld’s residences. The home is furnished with modern conveniences including his and hers groovy showers and a giant, rotating circular bed (you won’t find one of them in Dreams) where they make passionate love all day amongst all their stolen cash. Not exactly hygienic, but a lifestyle I can respect. The lair is surrounded by a fleet of Jaguar E-Types; the protagonist’s trademark wheels. With a subterranean entrance to the sea, Diabolik’s hideout comes complete with its own submarine. A convenient transport for moving a giant gold ingot. Above all, I’m particularly fond of the giant pipe organ which serves as the lair’s security alarm. A unique, yet very fitting device for any supervillain.

Sources suggest the reason a sequel was never made was that Bava did not enjoy his experience working with De Laurentiis. Alternatively, the film’s commercial failure is a more plausible explanation. If Danger: Diabolik had been successful, a sequel would have been produced even without Bava’s involvement. Regardless of which is true, it is now considered a cult film and often listed amongst the best comic book movies by various media. 

Danger: Diabolik did not leave the same first impression on me as Bava's gothic horror films initially did. The film has greatly grown on me with subsequent revisits. I think it might have been Diabolik’s quintessential European stylings and campiness being not to my taste during my edge lord youth. This was a time when Batman had long abandoned the campiness of the ‘60s television series and embraced the dark and gothic sensibilities as reflected by Tim Burton’s 1989 Batman film. Since then, however, I have found Danger: Diabolik deeply refreshing in comparison to the irreverent deconstruction and revisionism committed to familiar comics book characters today. They are trends that have become increasingly tiresome and clichéd for me. Hence, a fictional character who steals for the adrenaline rush and to support his lavish lifestyle with his sexy girlfriend, is both beautifully simplistic and far more appealing to me than the latest Marvel and DC slop.

One of Mario Bava’s greatest films.

Eureka has recently released a superb 4K UHD of Danger: Diabolik as part of its Masters of Cinema series. This is perhaps my favourite boutique film release of the year. Alternatively, I would highly recommend that those who have not seen the film to check it out for free on YouTube. Deep, deep down, you know you want to!