White of the Eye, 1987.
Directed by Donald Cammell.
Starring David Keith, Cathy Moriarty, Alan Rosenberg, Art Evans, Michael Greene, Danielle Smith and Alberta Watson.
SYNOPSIS:
Following a spate of brutal murders targeting rich women in their homes, a sound technician finds himself the prime suspect.
Every once in a while, you have a filmmaker who, despite possessing obvious talent behind the camera, never quite manages to break into the mainstream and enjoy a prolific, successful career. One such filmmaker was Scottish director Donald Cammell who, following his debut with the controversial crime drama Performance (co-directed with Nicolas Roeg), would make only three more films before his unfortunate suicide in 1996. So, to bring the spotlight back to an unfairly overlooked filmmaker, we’re going to take a look at Cammell’s penultimate film, White of the Eye, a surreal and artful take on the serial killer/slasher sub-genre that might be among the most fascinating forgotten horror films of the 1980s.
The plot synopsis might suggest White of the Eye will be an ultra-violent slasher filled with wall-to-wall murder and gore. However, what we actually get is something very different – a far more meditative piece that is more akin to a domestic drama, albeit one laced with often vicious violence and flashes of otherworldly surrealism. The story follows Paul White (David Keith) and his wife Joan (Cathy Moriarty), a seemingly ordinary couple whose relationship becomes strained after police name Paul as the prime suspect in a series of brutal murders. This already complicated situation is only made all the more so by the re-entry of Joan’s ex-boyfriend Mike, the man who she left for Paul.
The central mystery that drives the film is whether or not Paul is a killer, the story often switching between making it obvious that only he could be the killer before then suggesting that the true culprit is someone else entirely. It’s an intriguing premise that, although familiar, still keeps you guessing, with the mystery surrounding Paul and Joan only being heightened by the frequent cutting between the couple’s present and past, with these flashbacks revealing far more than an emerging love triangle.
The performances from the cast are solid throughout, with David Keith making for a compelling and flawed protagonist as Paul. I especially like his weird humming ability that lets him find acoustic sweet spots. It has little to do with the story, but it is a funny quirk. The real star of the film is an excellent Cathy Moriarty as Joan, giving an increasingly emotional performance as a loving wife who begins to suspect her husband might not be who he appears to be. I especially love a sequence in which Moriarty is brought in by police to help question her husband, and she just rips into him, her snarling and ferocious delivery making you feel the pain and anguish she is enduring as she faces the prospect that her husband might be a killer.
What marks White of the Eye out from the crowd of 80s slasher/thrillers is its unusual structure and style. The cinematography, which makes heavy use of the Steadicam, often has the camera gliding around the setting, giving the shots of the killer’s point of view an eerie quality, almost as if he’s hovering around like a spectre. The visuals are often beautiful, the creative lighting and camera work lending certain scenes a dream-like atmosphere, with the superb editing creatively transitioning between scenes in an equally strange and dream-like fashion, such as cross fading from a negative of an eye into a flashback of the sun shining in the sky.
The opening murder sequence is the film’s high point and perhaps the best example of Cammell’s technical prowess behind the camera. The cinematography is superb, depicting the killer’s view as he glides up to his victim. The quick succession of cuts makes for a suitably disorienting sequence that builds the tension to breaking point before grabbing you by the throat. The slow-motion viciousness of the killer’s attack as he throws his victim around a kitchen with the heavy splattering of red colours lending the scene an overpowering sense of style and brutality that is remarkable given the relative lack of gore shown, with the grisliest sights saved for when police arrive to examine the almost sacrificial altar like murder scene. The shot of a goldfish struggling in a meatloaf dish is an especially unique image that will certainly make you sit up in curious confusion.
The unusual style of the film is aided by its underrated and quirky musical score. Composed by Nick Mason (of Pink Floyd) and Rick Fenn (of 10cc), the score is a curious mixture of pop-rock pieces, Western-sounding guitar-heavy numbers and some inspired, almost sci-fi-esque synth tracks that give scenes an otherworldly vibe. It’s among the more unusual scores I’ve heard for a horror film, but it’s one that perfectly compliments the film’s often ethereal and surreal atmosphere.
What struck me most about White of the Eye is that, although a horror film about a serial killer, the film doesn’t dwell too much on horror and violence. This is evidenced by the fact that nearly an hour passes between the opening murder and the next. Those expecting a fast-paced gore fest will be disappointed as the film opts for a slower, more leisurely pace where much of the tension comes from the ambiguity about Paul’s guilt or innocence.
It’s in the third act, in which the killer is finally unmasked, that the film begins to fall apart as it devolves into a stylishly shot but somewhat standard “run away from the killer” slasher ending. I have to give credit for how the killer is dispatched, with an explosive finale that made me laugh at its sheer excessiveness. It’s not a terrible climax, but after all the technical brilliance, surrealism and creative ambiguity the film had carefully built up, it all feels rushed and generic.
While it’s not likely to please those expecting a standard slasher, White of the Eye, thanks to its creative visual style, engrossing story and hypnotic atmosphere, stands out as one of the most fascinating and underrated horror films of the 1980s. A highly original and unusual film that shows, despite his sparse output, that Donald Cammell was among the most unfairly overlooked filmmakers of his era.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Graeme Robertson
