In the Doghouse

The Appointment (Lindsey C. Vickers, 1981)

Imagine if the same dreamlike and ominous atmosphere which permeated Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) manifested itself with Edward Woodward driving a Ford Granada. That's the best way to describe Lindsey C. Vickers’s lesser seen, The Appointment (1981). 

Apart from the short film The Lake (1978) (which shares many elements with this film) and a host of second/third unit directing spots for various Hammer films, this was Vickers’s one and only feature film as a director. One and done like Herk Harvey. A real shame, as this unseen chiller is a bonafide gem.

The Appointment manages to convey a tremendous sense of foreboding dread throughout its run time. Even scenes that involve inanimate still life objects, like a flower vase, Vickers manages to turn it into prophetic doom, with fallen flower petals being a sign of what’s to come. This scene, along with an abundance of other moments, make for a compelling build up. Fortunately, the climax of the film manages to be equally as satisfying.

A pre-credits sequence involving a young school girl walking home is when the film's first major, and most unforgettable, shocker occurs. Whilst taking a shortcut through the nearby woods, she's shockingly grabbed and whisked into the dense undergrowth, never to be seen again. The only trace is her violin being crushed by an unseen entity. It's a disturbing scene; one which completely earns the rest of the film all undivided attention. 

Thankfully, the rest of The Appointment is equally as captivating. Edward Woodward plays Ian, the beige sweater wearing suburban dad, tasked with having to break the news to his bratty daughter Joanne (Samantha Weysom) that he won't be able to attend her violin recital, due to a work commitment. When she pleads for him to make it to her performance, it all gets uncomfortable. It’s a power struggle between the two. Not being able to attend his daughter's concert is perceieved as a betrayal, and seals Ian's fate. This is the crux of the story.

A restless night follows. Dad gets the worst of it with vivid bad dreams; one of which involves his wife Dianna disturbingly turning into Joanna. Another is where both Ian and Dianna experience the same nightmare, where Ian is involved in a very serious car accident. Meanwhile, a pack of mysterious rottweillers manage to stalk around the family's home and Ian's place of work. Not only are the canines the same breed as the demonic one from The Omen films, but they also behave the same way.

While the stealthy dogs are doing who knows what to Ian's car in the garage, the most disturbing part occurs when Ian is tempted to go into his daughter's bedroom. Joanne is awake and stares at the door handle. Wasn't until another viewing when I realised the supernatural source. 

Early in the morning, a tired and groggy Ian drives off to attend his long distance appointment. 

Really great how the sound of screeching tyres, which were featured in a nightmare, persist while Ian is resting at a motorway service station. It's a minor detail that lends to the impressive vibe of the film.

Ultimately, the significance of the mysterious dogs and Ian's upcoming doom become very apparent during the final act of the film, of which there's really no need to divulge any further plot details.

Considering The Appointment was released during the hayday of the video nasty, it's a virtually a bloodless affair. Foreboding, atmospheric dread is its main objective. Edward Woodward is great at playing authoritarian figures who’ve bitten off more than they can chew in horror films. For fans of British horror, it's a winner. Effective as a slow burn chiller that doesn't abuse one's patience with a long arse run time; and rewarding to the observant who can spot hidden clues and symbolism within the film.

The Appointment is one of the better films I've seen released via BFI''s Flipside imprint. Tragic how it's spent forty years in relative obscurity and doesn't even have an official trailer. Worst of all, is it spending another two years sitting in my unwatched pile until I got round to watching it.