When beauty Betty Clare (Adrienne Corri) moves into the building opposite introvert Edgar Marsh (Laurence Payne), the shy young man seeks advice from his friend Carl Loomis (Dermot Walsh) on how best to romantically approach the young woman. Edgar's attempts at wooing Betty are clumsy, and his feelings unreciprocated, and when Edgar introduces Betty to Carl, he really sets himself up for a fall: one evening, he sees Carl and Betty together in her apartment, and they're not talking about the weather! Enraged, Edgar lures Carl to his home, bashes his head in with a fire poker, and stashes the body under his floorboards, but his guilt over the terrible crime manifests itself as a incessant, pounding heartbeat.
A loose adaptation of Edgar Allen Poe's The Tell-tale Heart (a story familiar to me through an episode of The Simpsons), this film opens with a warning for the squeamish, although for the most part the action is far from horrific, revolving around Edgar's obsession with Betty (on whom he spies from his first floor window) and his unsuccessful attempts at getting to first base. Things get far more interesting when Edgar eventually loses the plot: we get a surprisingly vicious murder scene, Ed giving Carl numerous hefty whacks that leave him spattered with blood (gruesome stuff for a film from 1960); the young man's descent into complete and utter madness is handled well by director Ernest Morris, with dripping taps, pulsing floorboards and a ticking metronome pushing him even further over the edge; and in the film's juiciest scene, Edgar clutches the still beating heart that he has cut from Carl's chest and buries it in the garden.
I rate The Tell-Tale Heart 6/10, which I might have raised to a 7 if it hadn't been for the trite, cop-out ending in which it all turns out to be a dream (that might just become reality).
A loose adaptation of Edgar Allen Poe's The Tell-tale Heart (a story familiar to me through an episode of The Simpsons), this film opens with a warning for the squeamish, although for the most part the action is far from horrific, revolving around Edgar's obsession with Betty (on whom he spies from his first floor window) and his unsuccessful attempts at getting to first base. Things get far more interesting when Edgar eventually loses the plot: we get a surprisingly vicious murder scene, Ed giving Carl numerous hefty whacks that leave him spattered with blood (gruesome stuff for a film from 1960); the young man's descent into complete and utter madness is handled well by director Ernest Morris, with dripping taps, pulsing floorboards and a ticking metronome pushing him even further over the edge; and in the film's juiciest scene, Edgar clutches the still beating heart that he has cut from Carl's chest and buries it in the garden.
I rate The Tell-Tale Heart 6/10, which I might have raised to a 7 if it hadn't been for the trite, cop-out ending in which it all turns out to be a dream (that might just become reality).