Back to School: Fear in the Night

Fear in the Night is clearly the work of a confident, skilled technician in terror. Jimmy Sangster conceived, co-wrote, directed and produced the film, using all his experience to ensure it’s one of Hammer’s sparsest but most gripping efforts of the 70s.

By the time he delivered the movie’s script he’d written well over twenty screenplays and directed and produced a significant number of features. As one of Hammer’s most long-standing and reliable creatives who’d made his bones reinventing Dracula and Frankenstein for a new generation, it’s fair to say he knew what he was doing by this point. Crafting Fear in the Night he was keenly aware when he needed to deliver jump scares, when to mislead the audience and when to briskly move the plot or characterisation along.

The basic story had originally been earmarked to form a shorter piece for television, but even at a running time of about an hour and a half, Sangster’s ingenuity means the film never feels padded. More than one critic has called it a slow burn, but watching it anew it could be argued the plot zips along and we’re never more than a few minutes away from a shock, plot revelation or chilling encounter.

Case in point, the opening titles give us an atmospheric and slightly sinister tour of the school we’ll soon be visiting. As a scene setter, it’s an effective montage that never shows us anything drastically out-of-the-ordinary but still manages to invoke a sense of unease. Yet literally a couple of seconds after the titles end, we pan across the chilly countryside to find a pair of dangling feet which indicate a man has been hung, here in the school grounds. It confirms the audience’s instinct that this is a place of horror.

Shooting for the school’s exterior shots took place in Aldenham in Hertfordshire. Principal photography started on 15 November, 1971 and wrapped just over one month later.

The juxtaposition of this stark reveal straight after the subtler eeriness that preceded it gets the movie off to an effective, disquieting start. The fact Sangster chooses to cut away immediately, switching to a different scene completely, immediately plants a mystery that lingers throughout the film.

It's an opening that was appreciated by Keri O'Shea, who writing for Warped Perspective noted, ‘The subtlety of this revelation [the dead man] coming in the first few minutes, is one of this film’s strengths; it casts a shadow over the rest of the film, as it indicates that there’s foul play going on and, by the by, we’ll come to understand exactly what form this takes.’

Sure enough, the identity of the dead person and the reason he’s there, will be revealed, but not before more deaths have blighted the school. However, less than five minutes after the arresting shot of the feet, we see an unknown ‘someone’ break into slightly down-at-heel accommodation and attack its occupant. This movie may be a slow burn in terms of the time it takes to yield answers to the questions it poses, but it never skimps on action.

The happy couple, played by Ralph Bates and Judy Geeson.

The plot is a deceptively simple one. Newly wed Peggy (Judy Geeson) is moving from London to the countryside to be with her husband, Robert (Ralph Bates), who’s explained he’s a teacher at a school presided over by a slightly eccentric headmaster, Mr Michael Carmichael (Peter Cushing). Before leaving her old digs, Judy is attacked, apparently by a man with a prosthetic arm. She manages to wrench it off before passing out. After regaining consciousness she’s understandably perturbed by the incident, but no-one believes the assault occurred, partly because some of the details she recounts don’t add up, but mainly because she suffered a breakdown months earlier.

‘I’ll call the police if you’re not going to!’ she defiantly informs her landlady and doctor.

The latter replies, ‘No, no. We’ll do it.’ But the look he exchanges with the older woman implies neither has any intention of dialling 999.

Mrs. Beamish (Gillian Lind) and the doctor (James Cossins) try to convince Peggy she simply fell asleep watching the final episode of The Fugitive. 

Crucially, we now see Peggy talking to her psychiatrist. She recalls meeting someone who’d suffered a breakdown and because of it, continually imagined she was being followed. This is an important point as it shows Peggy understands that for someone dealing with mental health issues, confusion is possible.

Deciding to look forward as opposed to fretting about her past, she shares her optimism with Robert. ‘I know I’m going to love it,’ she tells him, referring to their new home, close to the school. ‘I can’t wait to see it!’

She arrives at the school during a term break and finds the sound of pupils being played in empty classrooms, as if boisterous young students are somehow haunting the building. Later, whilst walking in the grounds she meets the headmaster’s wife, Molly Carmichael (Joan Collins). Robert has already warned her that she can be ‘a bit odd at times’ and sure enough, she immediately makes an impression by shooting a rabbit just a few feet away from the horrified newcomer. Molly revels in being an arch, striking woman who makes very little effort to be welcoming. ‘Forgive me for being personal,’ she says without any hint of sincerity, ‘but you do seem terribly young. Almost like a child bride.’

‘After my dithering, I settled on becoming an actress – but an actress in ‘the theatre’ and not ‘the films’, heaven forfend!’ – Joan Collins on her early career aspirations. 

Peggy also meets the headmaster. He’s initially courteous and charming, but when he pleads with her to wear her hair a certain way (in a scene that’s guaranteed to make audiences squirm) we realise that this guy will be a major liability during any Ofsted inspection.

And one more thing. Mr Carmichael has a prosthetic arm…

Spoilers ahead! Fear in the Night is often compared to Les Diaboliques (1955), the seminal psychological horror thriller directed by Henri-Georges Clouzot. To an extent, that’s understandable. We’re in gaslighting territory again, with an innocent woman being manipulated in order to cajole her into insanity. Molly certainly brings to mind Simone Signoret’s implacable Nicole Horner, and the school setting provides another similarity.

But today Fear in the Night would also be considered a domestic noir, a sub-genre novelist Julia Crouch defined as being one which ‘…takes place primarily in homes and workplaces, concerns itself largely (but not exclusively) with the female experience, is based around relationships and takes as its base a broadly feminist view that the domestic sphere is a challenging and sometimes dangerous prospect for its inhabitants.’ 

Sadly, this proved to be both Judy Geeson’s and Joan Collins’s only film for Hammer. The latter appeared in several more horror movies, however, including I Don’t Want to Be Born (1975) in which she played the wife of Ralph Bates’s character.

All these tropes apply to Fear in the Night. In addition, domestic noirs always feature a strong female character who’s invariably blighted by one flaw, and this often proves to be a weakness exploited by her nemesis. This enemy tends to remain anonymous for most of the story but, in many cases, he turns out to be the husband, who’s initially presented as the perfect spouse.

All these commonalities are found in Fear in the Night and as such, it can be considered a successor not just to Les Diaboliques, but domestic noir / film noir classics such as Gaslight (both the British, 1940 version and the US remake of 1944) and Sudden Fear (1952). It might be stretching a point to call it ahead of its time, but it certainly shares themes and salient plot points found in recent movies such as The Girl on the Train (2016), and books like Adele Parks’ bestseller, First Wife’s Shadow.

A financial success for Hammer, the work went through several name changes during its protracted development. Sangster called his original concept Brainstorm, and in 1967 it was retitled The Claw, before finally evolving into Fear in the Night.

The central female character in both those domestic noir hits has been criticised for being naïve and foolish, and Peggy has received similar condemnation over the years. The After Movie Diner criticised her for being, ‘passive… [and] wet’ and this summation feels typical of one school of thought. Sadly, this perception wasn’t helped by the way the work was initially presented. When it was originally released in July, 1972 with another Hammer production, Straight on Till Morning (1972), the double bill they formed was titled Women in Terror. But Peggy is much more than a woman in terror, and superficial similarities aside, this is a very different movie to Peter Collinson’s psycho-sexual thriller.

Geeson’s Peggy Heller is a much stronger protagonist than Rita Tushingham’s Brenda, the main character in Straight on Till Morning. She lacks her Walter Mitty tendencies and although she’s excessively polite to people who don’t deserve it (she even keeps her marriage a secret from her psychiatrist, worried he might not approve) she at least gives a sense of inner strength. Brenda ends her tale as a terrified wreck, sobbing in a corner whilst awaiting whatever fate her crazed partner chooses for her. Peggy, on the other hand, arms herself, fights back and ultimately defeats those who plotted against her. Don’t let her civility fool you, she’s no pushover.

Modern audiences may bristle at the way she handles the aftermath of the attack she endures in London, but context is everything. As Jennie Kermode shrewdly pointed out, when writing about the movie for Eye for Film, ‘In England in 1972, women had few employment rights, couldn't take out credit in their own names, and couldn't even order a pint without risking legal rejection just on grounds of their sex. They were significantly more likely to be institutionalised for minor psychiatric problems. So when, the night before she's due to leave for her new home, Peggy is attacked by someone who has broken into her lodgings, it's not surprising that her account is dismissed as the product of a disturbed imagination.’

Peggy is down but not out as she weighs up when to make her next school run.

Peggy might be stricken by fear on occasions (who wouldn’t be, given what she’s forced to go through?) but she keeps moving forward and doesn’t need any Van Helsing figure to rescue her. She’s out of her comfort zone and outnumbered, yet she’s the one who comes out on top. Although the final scenes show her locked in something of a school daze, she triumphs over her scheming husband who committed the fatal mistake of underestimating her, an error the audience might well have made during her earliest scenes.

And Molly, so mocking and mean and seemingly superior, doesn’t even make it out alive. Peggy (temporarily, at least), winds up a scared, scarred, traumatised survivor, but she’s a survivor, nevertheless, and in the final analysis, the unlikely victor.

Judy Geeson turns in a creditable performance as a dupe who’s pushed to the edge. It’s a difficult role to nail as modern audiences perhaps want a more gung ho hero, but we need to witness Peggy’s anxieties to make her plight believable and gripping. Her disinclination to offend those that don’t deserve her kindness is slightly irksome at times, but as Geeson noted, ‘When people do show their vulnerability, it’s hard not to forgive them for other things.’ We see enough of Peggy’s vulnerabilities to understand and accept the characteristics that occasionally seem to let her down.

Besides, Peggy’s status as a people-pleaser was one reason Robert selected her for his scheme. If Geeson had played Peggy as unafraid, totally together and unfazed by physical attacks, the plot simply wouldn’t make sense. And at the end of the day, Fearless in the Night makes for a much less engaging experience.

Ralph Bates plays rotten Robert with an appropriate steeliness. We never really warm to him, thanks to his failure to be one hundred per cent on his wife’s side. ‘You’re right about one thing, though,’ he tells her when dismissing her insistence she’s spotted someone loitering near their home at night, ’The Champagne… It’s upset you.’  But still, the extent of his treachery comes as a shock.

‘Did anyone ever tell you, you have the most beautiful hair?’

Peter Cushing, as ever, is first rate as Mr Carmichael, the demonised headmaster. The Hammer icon only worked on the production for four days, but his character makes a huge impression, and he inhabits the halls even when physically absent. The scene where he fumbles with Peggy’s headband is truly excruciating, but by the end of the drama it’s hard not to pity him. ‘Cushing unsurprisingly walks away with the acting honours,’ Film Authority opined, ‘making the headmaster a worthy adversary.’

But for whom?

David Bedwell also applauded him in his review for Frame Rated. ‘Cushing could make almost anything enjoyable, and while he’s not the main focus he delivers another top class performance as a sinister headmaster. Geeson also has a wonderful innocence about her as Peggy…’ adding that Joan Collins, ‘fits in perfectly as Molly, the wife of headmaster Michael Carmichael (Cushing). She’s the polar opposite of Peggy and certainly plays to Collins’ strengths as an actress; being the wild and sinister vixen in stark contrast to Geeson’s shy and timid protagonist.’

Collins is indeed scintillating as the Lady Macbeth figure, a cold, merciless (would be) murderer. Her interactions with Peggy are thick with micro-aggressions and constantly contrive to belittle the other woman. Her every glance, quizzically arched eyebrow, disbelieving smile and hint of ridicule in her voice are designed to demean, and Collins delivers them all with artful perfection.

Peggy quietly decides that like the farmer, she’ll get by without her rabbit pie.

There’s plenty more to enjoy in Fear in the Night. The school setting works well and was a late addition to the tale. When Sangster was originally working up the narrative the action took place on a barge, and was only upgraded when Michael Syson came onboard to share writing duties.

The feel of the film is another grim treat. Hammer’s seasoned cinematographer, Arthur Grant, gives us muted colours that are uniquely of their time. Add to this scenes filmed in a Granada motorway service station and friendly policemen (‘Are you all right, miss?’) driving huge Jags, and it’s easy to see this as a calling card for the England of fifty or so years ago. As Starburst reflected, ‘There’s some influence from the burgeoning giallo films, but here done with a drab, autumnal early ’70s British approach, which is actually interesting.’

Sangster’s direction is economical and assured with some conspiratorial, prowling tracking shots, sly flashbacks and punchy action scenes. He also serves up simple but high impact visuals. A pair of glasses with cracked lenses, for instance, has no right to be as creepy as those worn by the headmaster following Peggy’s ‘retaliation’. Yet the image of Peter Cushing wearing the spooky spectacles emerges as one of the most enduring elements of the picture.

‘Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.’ – attributed to Anton Chekhov.

The succession of twists as the action comes to a head(master) makes for engrossing viewing and the finale itself may be a little far-fetched in places, but it ensures a satisfying pay-off. Thankfully, Peggy’s trauma isn’t simply written off as she walks away from the home she was once so eager to see.

Ultimately, Fear in the Night proved to be the end of an era. Ralph Bates, along with Shane Briant, had at one stage been talked about as Hammer’s long-term successors to Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing, but this was Bates's final film for the company. A string of one-off television appearances followed, and he found sitcom success in the late 80s, starring as the eponymous loser-in-love in John Sullivan’s Dear John.

Veteran cinematographer, Arthur Grant, died in 1972 and Fear in the Night turned out to be Jimmy Sangster’s final Hammer movie and the last feature he directed. He continued writing, however, turning his attention to the US where he contributed scripts to shows including Kolchak: The Night Stalker, McCloud, The Six Million Dollar Man and Wonder Woman. Not bad for a man who once claimed he wasn’t a writer and who began his career in film and TV working as a clapperboard boy.

In later life he seemed vaguely surprised by the acclaim his work on Hammer films afforded him. Ironically, he professed no great love for the genre which earned him such praise. Talking to writers Tom Johnson and Deborah Del Vecchio, he admitted, ‘I’m not really crazy about horror movies… Like Hammer, I got into horror by accident,’ before adding, with wry understatement, ‘…we both had a good run.’

The Fear in the Night release comes with a booklet and two posters. On-disc extras include a new feature, The Fragile Mind: Kim Newman Explores Fear in the Night, an archive feature, End of Term: Inside Fear in the Night, an archive audio commentary with Jimmy Sangster and Marcus Hearn, plus a stills gallery and the theatrical trailer.

To learn more or to order it now, visit Hammer’s online shop.