10 Rillington Place

Anthony Hopkins' performance as Hannibal Lecter has become the modern standard for fictional serial killers on film, his character's monstrous tendencies hidden beneath a disguise of wit, intelligence and, above all, good taste. In 10 Rillington Place (1971), Richard Attenborough dons a disguise as well to portray the all-too-real John Reginald Christie who raped and murdered at least eight women in post-WW2 London (including his wife), hiding their bodies in various shallow graves and secret rooms within his modest flat. But unlike the grandiose stylings of Hannibal the Cannibal, Christie hid in plain sight, passing himself off as a harmless, balding everyman who lured his victims in with a soft-spoken but oh-so-false sense of security.

Director Richard Fleischer's film respectfully approaches the material from a procedural point of view; not that of the investigating officers (who barely make an impression), but Christie's own clever machinations that shifted the blame for the murder of a Beryl Evans and her infant daughter on to their uneducated, illiterate husband / father, Timothy Evans. Convicted of the crime after some sloppy police work, Evans was hung in 1950...Christie just went on killing.

The case itself and the book that followed, written by Ludovic Kennedy, was instrumental in the suspension and eventual abolition of capital punishment for murder in the United Kingdom in 1965. Which also explains Attenborough's involvement in a role that clearly was not a pleasure to play, but is no less impressive for its relentless repulsiveness. As Christie, the actor eschews any easy mannerisms, quirks or tics that might serve as a crutch; he simply falls into this empty shell of a man and lets the madness slowly fill him up. The movie matches him beat for beat; never glamorizing for the sake of good cinema, but simply and dispassionately letting the events play out...no matter how much we'd like them to stop.

Drab, depressing and intensely claustrophobic, 10 Rillington Place seems to suggest Christie is just one of many monsters hidden beneath the rubble. To emphasize this dismal reality, Fleischer shoots on the very same street, in the actual tenement where the events occurred, his camera barely squeezing through the tight hallways and cramped staircases, making Christie's calculated "termination" of the Evans' already painful existence seem all the more tragic. So much so that the film's proposed intent, highlighting the miscarriage of justice at the heart of the story, is often lost when compared to Attenborough's compelling performance. Or perhaps that's just our natural tendency to focus on the monster rather than the victims, an ugly personality flaw that no court of law seems to be able to litigate out of our system.

Twilight Time digs up another "deep cut" from the studio vaults and gives it the proper hi-def showcase with this 3000-copy limited edition. The muted color scheme may not make your screen pop, but there's certainly nothing to complain about in terms of detail and resolution. 10 Rillington Place looks tremendously grim and authentic. Extras include an isolated score track, theatrical trailer and commentary with star Judy Geeson and film historians Lem Dobbs and Nick Redman.