Thanks to the kindness of a Squire Hamilton, I’ve just become reacquainted with the 1966 British urban voodoo oddity Naked Evil. The film feels like one part Merton Park Edgar Wallace Mysterypolice procedural plus one part 1961’s Night Of The Eagle (aka ‘Bird On A String’), with a dash of Butcher’s Film Productions’ seedy Britnoir – all of which is just fine by me. The moody B/W cinematography lends a raw edge to the scenes set in the shabby nightclubs and the city’s slum houses, while achieving a creepy ambience within the ‘Hostel For Commonwealth Students’and its grounds. The story is a slow burn which travels the same path as Peter Wyngarde trod in NotE; from sceptical scoffing at the power of magic (in this case Jamaican Obeah) through growing bewilderment, doubt and finally outright terror and the shattering realisation that such things can exist (cf the famous “I do NOT believe”device scrawled on Wyngarde’s blackboard). I should add that the journey in Naked Evil is somewhat more leisurely and initially less eventful than in the case of the cited predecessor. And the very first character heard to heap scorn on the supernatural beliefs of his compatriots is a Jamaican club owner who ironically also refers to his listlessly dancing patrons as ‘zombies’.
The cast all give solid, earnest and competent (if not memorable) performances and director Stanley Goulder (apparently a.d. on Hammer’s Steel Bayonet and Quatermass 2, as well as another Richard Gordon production First Man Into Space) shows a certain flair that adds greatly to the ‘supernatural’ sequences. The creepiest act begins when Benson, the manager of the student residence discovers an ‘Obi’ (a small glass bottle containing grave dirt and feathers, the Jamaican Obeah talisman of death) concealed in his office. Furiously he hurls it to the floor, smashing it to smithereens. Instantly all sounds cease - except the ominous, subdued ticking of a wall clock. A subtly effective way of evoking a chilly feeling of dread, aided by the actor’s apalled reaction at his rash – and potentially doom-bringing- reflex action. From this point on scary weird shit gathers pace and the ambiguous ‘real or imagination’ see-sawing is (almost) totally ditched, giving way to possession, exorcism and a dead man walking. Although in a last ditch ‘have-cake-eat’ gambit, the final scene ends with a half hearted semi-rationalisation that I can only suppose may have seemed to the scriptwriter like a good idea at the time.
In summary, a slow build, atmospheric and creepy film which took British Horror briefly into hitherto unexplored territories such as ritual exorcism and the presence of the black immigrant community. Worth a look as long as you don’t expect the Spanish Inquisition.
(As a footnote – one of the scant online reviews of this title that I’ve seen online moans about the fact that the DVD has no closed captions which is most inconsiderate because it’s really hard to make out the broad British and Jamaican accents. Yes, possibly. If you’re a Yank. Over this side of the Pond we’ve been deciphering thick American accents for years. Without closed captions.
Another reviewer (also a transatlantic cousin) stated that “NAKED EVIL takes place in an English town mostly populated by African Americans”. Since he later accurately refers to these characters as ‘Jamaicans’, I’m wondering if his word processor automatically substitutes African Americans in place of ‘the B word’?)