Once again, the synopsis is slightly mangled and very misleading. This extremely strange movie has the twisted logic of a dream. During an increasingly chaotic cricket match at the mental hospital where he is a patient, Alan Bates tells Tim Curry most of the film's story in flashback, warning him at the outset that he's an unreliable narrator who sometimes gets things mixed up, but nevertheless it's all true. And the flashbacks contain a further layer of backstory which is never confirmed, and appears to be not terribly reliable either.
Appearing out of nowhere and inviting himself into the smug little household of fashionable but talentless avant-garde composer John Hurt and his devoted but vaguely dissatisfied wife Susannah York, on whom he casually cheats, Bates dominates them both in different ways with the extraordinary magical powers he allegedly learned while living for 18 years as an Australian aborigine. The Anglican Christianity which is frequently referenced, and the cricket match going on in the background throughout the film, are both impotent attempts by modern Englishmen to impose order on a universe which isn't having any of it, just as Hurt's pretentious musique concrète is a feeble parody of the raw chaos Bates can genuinely unleash to the point where everyone in earshot drops dead. However, it seems that letting aboriginal magic loose in cosy old England gives reality such a jolt that the magic becomes infectious...
Unfortunately, a movie that could have been "Eraserhead" meets "Straw Dogs" (in which Susannah York also appeared, and also had nude scenes, which seems to have been a contractual obligation, judging by the number of films she's in in which she actually keeps her clothes on) is oddly compromised by the story being simultaneously too weird and not quite weird enough. The utterly bizarre events which start to occur as reality unravels, and which aren't really explained at all, are somewhat devalued by an ending that's just a little too neat, and way too reminiscent of "Roald Dahl's Tales of the Unexpected" (remember that?). If it had had the courage of its convictions and taken both the insanity and the ambiguity about what actually happened a bit further, like "Picnic at Hanging Rock", which had the genius not to neatly resolve anything at all, it could have been a classic weird movie. It isn't, but it's still a fascinating curiosity well worth a look because true originality and bold experimentation are always interesting, and in today's sausage-machine movie industry, even more undervalued than they were half a century ago.
By the way, connoisseurs of those "before they were famous" moments may enjoy the sight of a very young and very, very mad Jim Broadbent running around in his underpants.
I remember seeing this when it first came out (1978) and thinking it a bit overblown. Just watched it again (2020) after it was featured in a list of films containing an English cricket match (a short list; The Go Between from the same period is another one, also with Alan Bates in a similar role)
It now seems a bit better than I remembered despite some inconsistencies and plot holes. Alan Bates, for all his brooding lumbering around, never quite pulls off the surreal menace that the role of Crossley, the man with The Shout That Can Kill, demands.
John Hurt as Anthony the philandering cuckold composer, seems unbelievably weak in the face of Crossley's invasion of his life, but that's what the role as written demands. Tim Curry as Robert Graves (yes the real one, he really did write the story the film is based on) listens to Crossley's tale with suitable wide-eyed innocence in the hut as they are scoring the locals versus loonies cricket match at the asylum.
The cast features many well known English actors of the period, including Susannah York getting her nipples out as usual and a young Jim Broadbent ripping his kit off to prance about in his pants in the thunderstorm that terminates the match, and the film. The Devon locations are an added bonus.
All in all an entertaining 90 minutes although not a great film by any means. (and there isn't that much cricket!). Worth 3/5 or 4/7 if you prefer a finer grained rating system)
Incidentally the synopsis here on Paridiso is incorrect in moment (Dec 2020) - its got the story the wrong way around.
For me this movie is a reflection of all that was going wrong with the UK film industry in the late 1970s. A slow, self indulgent script with a focus on the mores of the English middle class. The production has little to offer beyond being like an extended episode of a BBC TV series such as Armchair Theatre or Tales of the Unexpected but without the snappy story telling.
Dull and unimaginative, this kind of film making was one of the reasons we stopped going to the cinema to see British films in the 1970s. Without video or streaming this would have disappeared without trace never to have been seen in the public domain again, except maybe late at night on the BBC. I suspect the only reason it has returned on DVD is Skolimowski's work is considered worth making available.
Considering the wealth of acting talent on offer, I found the movie incredibly uninteresting, and frustratingly boring. Bates, for a seasoned movie actor, is far too theatrical, and Hurt and York just don't get the opportunity to flex their acting chops. Nice images of north Devon in the late 70s though.
I wouldn't recommend this as entertainment, but as as an historical artefact? Maybe