Escape Into Night (1972)

Escape Into Night is a 1972 children’s fantasy/horror TV mini-series from Britain’s ITV. It has an interesting premise and it’s quite atmospheric, and decidedly spooky.

It was scripted by Ruth Boswell from a novel by Catherine Storr.

Escape Into Night was shot in colour but only a black-and-white version has survived. Since there’s a definite touch of horror to the series that’s perhaps not entirely a disadvantage. The very studio-bound feel also adds to the stifling and menacing atmosphere.

Marianne is a young girl who has a riding accident. She’s not badly hurt but she is confined to bed for several weeks. She amuses herself by drawing a picture of a house. When she goes to sleep she finds herself in the house in her dream. When she wakes up she draws a boy in the window of the house. Next time she sleeps she’s back in the house, and there’s a boy there, in the upstairs room she drew him. He’s ill and can’t walk. 

Her doctor has arranged for a teacher, Miss Chesterfield, to call regularly so Marianne won’t fall behind with her schoolbook. Oddly enough one of Miss Chesterfield’s other pupils is a boy named Mark, who can’t walk. Even more oddly, the boy in the dream who can’t walk is named Mark and he has a teacher called Miss Chesterfield.

When Marianne adds other details to her drawing they appear in the house in her dream. Unfortunately, in a fit of pique, Marianne draws some stones with eyes. They appear in the dream as well, and they don’t seem to be any too friendly. In fact Marianne and Mark, in her dream, start to feel that they should make plans to escape from the house. This won’t be easy, given that Mark cannot walk at all.

Are Marianne and Mark somehow sharing a dream? Is it really just a dream? Are the two children in actual danger? Is something supernatural or paranormal going on? Why is it that the only drawings that seem to affect the dreams are those done on a particular sketch pad using a particular pencil, a pencil belonging to an art set that had belonged to Marianne’s grandmother. And why is it that every time Marianne sleeps she finds herself back in the same dream?

One of the themes of the series seems to be the way children experience guilt about apparently trivial incidents. Marianne’s annoyance with Mark caused her to draw the stones with eyes and now those stones seem to have a malevolent intent towards Mark. Marianne  of course had no intention of hurting Mark. It was just one of those bursts of childish anger but children can easily be persuaded that they have caused harm to those around them and can end up thinking they are responsible for all kinds of harm. Mark becomes very ill so there is also the issue of how children deal with death and with loss.

Marianne’s father is an engineer and he is out of the country most of the time so Marianne is left without a father figure. Perhaps the dream has something to do with that?

Children of course also don’t always differentiate very well between fantasy and reality.

Marianne is still too young to take a romantic interest in boys but she is approaching the age at which boys will start to become rather interesting. Her odd friendship with Mark is completely innocent but it is a step towards learning to deal with that frightening phenomenon known as the opposite sex. Marianne at times seems to have an almost motherly feeling for the helpless Mark. Independence versus dependency, and the natural human need to want someone who needs us, are other issues that are addressed.

The series was presumably aimed mostly at girls but there’s enough subtle horror to appeal to boys as well, or to adults.

In a program like this the casting of the lead actress is crucial, especially in the case of a child actress. Marianne has to be a fairly ordinary sort of girl and like any normal girl approaching puberty she can be exasperating but somehow the actress has to avoid making her irritating to the viewer, or excessively precocious. At the same time she has to be lively enough, likeable enough and clever enough for girlish viewers to identify with. Young Vikki Chambers does a superb job.

These were innocent days, when a girl would have on her bookshelf a book like The Young Girl’s Guide to Housekeeping. These were also the days when kids still learnt Latin at school.

Given the subject matter, dreams, the big worry was that they’d make a mess of the ending but in fact it works quite well.

The special effects are about what you'd expect from a fairly low-budget children's production but the writing, acting and atmosphere and enough to carry it off pretty effectively.

Network’s DVD release is on a single disc. It’s barebones but the transfer is quite good given the not entirely satisfactory nature of the surviving source material.

Escape Into Night is an intriguing mix of childhood drama, fantasy and gothic horror and it makes thoroughly entertaining viewing. Highly recommended.

The Owl Service (1969)

The Owl Service is a 1969 mini-series from Britain’s Granada Television. It’s a children’s program although it’s obviously aimed at what would probably today be described as the young adult market. In fact it deals with a few concepts that very definitely qualify as adult themes. It’s a fantasy series in a contemporary setting although the supernatural elements are subtle and ambiguous. 

Alan Garner wrote all eight half-hour episodes. He adapted the series from his own novel.

Clive (Edwin Richfield )and his new wife Margaret are holidaying in a remote very rural Welsh valley. Both had been married before. Clive has a teenage son, Roger (Francis Wallis), from his previous marriage while Margaret also has a teenager, Alison (Gillian Hills), from her previous marriage.  Their housekeeper Nancy (Dorothy Edwards) and Nancy’s son Gwyn (Michael Holden) complete the household, apart from a gardener named Huw (Raymond Llewellyn), a strange character who may be a bit touched in the head.

Investigating odd scratching noises coming from the attic Alison and Gwyn discover an old dinner service (this is the owl service of the title). The pattern on the plates is a little puzzling but after tracing the design Alison finds that it comprises flowers and that when put together the flowers make an owl. She starts, rather obsessively, to make paper owls from the tracings. The paper owl models seem to have a rather disturbing effect on Alison.

The plates have some kind of connection to a local legend involving a romantic triangle that ended in a strange double murder, one of the murders being committed by a dead man. There’s also a mysterious stone near the house with a hole through it, allegedly made by a spear cast and also connected with the legend. This legend also tells of a woman made from flowers who turns into an owl.

The plates have a surprising property. After Alison copies the design on one of the plates the design disappears from the plate.

There’s a good deal of tension between the various characters, at least some of this tension being emotional or sexual in nature. There’s an obvious attraction between Alison and Gwyn while the relationships between Alison and some of the other characters are slightly unsettling (I did say this series touched on some adult themes).

There are other complications with roots in both the distant and the recent past.

The pacing is leisurely, which is a polite way of saying that it’s slow. I’m inclined to think this story might have worked better as a six-part rather than an eight-part series. There’s not quite enough plot to sustain eight episodes and while it’s useful to develop the characters and the atmosphere of unease at a deliberate pace it really is unnecessarily slow.

Of course a potential problem with a series in which the key characters are children or teenagers is that it makes heavy demands on inexperienced actors. The big problem here is Francis Wallis who fails completely to get a handle on his performance as Roger. Roger ends up being not only a character the viewer doesn’t care about - we also can’t imagine any of the other characters caring about him or even bothering to notice his existence. Michael Holden gets the brooding intensity right as Gwyn. Gillian Hills (who at 25 should have been much too old to be playing a teenager) does pretty well in what is a formidably demanding role.

In some ways The Owl Service strikes me as the kind of series that adults would imagine that teenagers would like. I suspect that actual teenagers might have preferred a bit more spookiness or a bit more excitement, and possibly just a touch of humour. As it stands the series has at times a bit of a dour kitchen-sink drama feel to it. There’s a teen romance angle that would obviously appeal to girls but I can’t imagine most teenage boys lasting beyond the first couple of episodes. That’s not to say that this is a bad series. It’s just terribly serious and intense, and slow.

At the time there were those who felt that the series was quite unsuitable for children and I have to say I agree with them. It’s wildly unsuitable material. Alan Garner’s original novel was apparently not actually intended as a children’s novel although it ended up being labelled as such. It’s probably better (and less disturbing) not to regard The Owl Service as a children’s series at all.

It also has a feature that is, alas, rather common in British television of its era - it pits cruel snobby wicked upper-class people against a noble long-suffering working-class hero. This is always tiresome and in this case it also seems like an unnecessary distraction from the main story.

The inspiration for both the novel and the TV series was a Welsh legend from The Mabinogion. A wizard creates a woman named Blodeuwedd out of flowers, and as a punishment for betraying her husband (and causing two murders) she is turned into an owl. The central premise of The Owl Service is that the tragic romantic triangle of the legend is destined to repeat itself over and over again.

Rather surprisingly for the period this series was shot mostly on location in Wales. It was also shot in colour at a time when this was still unusual for British television. Unfortunately it went to air in December 1969 in black-and-white and was not seen in colour until 1978.

Network’s DVD release contains all eight episodes and image quality is pretty good. There are some worthwhile extras as well. There’s a documentary film on Alan Garner which left me determined not to read any of his books. More interestingly is the accompanying booklet which includes an incredibly detailed essay on the production of the series, interviews with Gillian Hills and Raymond Llewellyn and a brief but enthusiastic appreciation by Kim Newman.

The Owl Service was a wildly ambitious project. Not surprisingly it’s not always a complete success. Producer-director Peter Plummer approaches the series more in the spirit of an art film than a popular television series and on occasion he gets a little carried away (the surreal touches in the final episode seem out of place). At times it’s heavy going and it has severe pacing problems but it’s still a fascinating if somewhat pretentious attempt to do something different in the field of television fantasy. If you have a higher tolerance than I have for artiness and you can overlook some clumsy “social commentary” then it’s worth a look.

The Adventures of Sir Lancelot (1956)

The Adventures of Robin Hood, launched in 1955, having proved to be a huge success for Lew Grade’s fledgeling ITC Entertainment it was hardly surprising that the company followed it up with several more medieval action/adventure series. One of these was The Adventures of Sir Lancelot, which was produced for them by Sapphire Films (a company that enjoyed some success until the heavy-handed politicking of the ill-fated The Four Just Men series sank them).

The Adventures of Sir Lancelot was screened by NBC in the US and was sufficiently popular to prompt the bold decision to make the final fourteen episodes in colour.

William Russell, best remembered as one of the early companions of Doctor Who, played the title role with a considerable amount of both dash and charm.

The first episode, The Knight with the Red Plume, deals with Sir Lancelot’s arrival at Camelot, an arrival that is not welcome by everyone. In fact Lancelot is accused of having slain the brother of one of the Knights of the Round Table. Could Lancelot actually be a villain? It’s a reasonably serious introduction to the series although there are certainly some light-hearted moments as well. 

We also meet Merlin for the first time and an interesting character he is. As a magician he’s a total fake. His magic is a mixture of illusionism, applied science and out-and-out trickery. In fact all of the magic in this series falls into these categories - there are no real supernatural elements at all. This is actually an advantage. The trouble with magic is that it’s all too easy to use it as a plot device to get a writer out of a tight corner rather than having the writer use some imagination, and it can also make things too easy for the hero (or for the villains). On the whole the decision to include no genuine magic was the right one.

On the other hand while Merlin’s magic might be faked he really is a wise old bird and a shrewd and intelligent adviser to King Arthur - the phony magic is necessary to make people believe in him and listen to his generally very sound advice.  

The following episode, The Ferocious Fathers, is much more light-hearted and at times almost farcical. Of course it has to be remembered that this was a kids’ show so one can hardly complain if it’s a bit lightweight. The episode does have some genuinely amusing moments and it gives William Russell the chance to show that he can handle light comedy rather well. This episode also introduces Brian (Robert Scroggins), a kitchen boy who wants to become a knight and who will become Lancelot’s sidekick. The series was of course aimed largely at kids so giving Lancelot a youthful sidekick made sound commercial sense, and luckily he’s not overly annoying.

The Queen’s Knight introduces Sir Mordred, the chief villain of the Arthurian legends, and he’s up to some dastardly villainy here. In The Outcast Lancelot encounters opposition when he announces that he intends to have his new young squire Brian trained as a knight. There are some slightly grating anachronistic class conflicts in this story and it’s a bit too predictable (this predictability is unfortunately a fault with quite a few of the episodes). Winged Victory on the other hand is a fine episode enlivened by Nigel Green’s performance as the treacherous King Mark who captures Lancelot and puts him to the torture to persuade him to reveal King Arthur’s battle plans for the capture of Mark’s castle.

The Lesser Breed was one of the colour episodes and it does look rather splendid. Witches Brew is another colour episode and it’s a good one, having the advantage of a reasonably strong and interesting plot. Plus it features a contest between Merlin and a beautiful but evil sorceress! And hypnotism!

The limited budget means that many episodes are very light on action and even lighter on spectacle and the half-hour format and the need to tailor the series towards kids mean that some of the scripts are pretty lightweight and under-developed. The episode The Bridge features an epic battle for control of a bridge - with half a dozen villagers defending the bridge and four knights as the assault force. Even a dozen more extras would have helped.

It’s always fun to see guest appearances by unknown actors who later went on to stardom, such as Patrick McGoohan as a dastardly knight in The Outcast.

The Adventures of Sir Lancelot offers a pleasing and light-hearted mix of adventure and gentle humour with just an occasional hint of romance.

These medieval adventure series were essentially the British equivalents of American TV westerns, and in particular those TV westerns aimed at younger viewers (such as Annie Oakley). You know that good will triumph and that Sir Lancelot will always act bravely and nobly. There’s always some action but not too much obvious bloodshed. I don’t mind that - I don’t require that a show aimed at younger audiences should be dark and edgy and cynical. I don’t even demand that a show aimed at adult audiences should go overboard on darkness, edginess and cynicism.

Don’t expect too much historical accuracy. If there really was a King Arthur he lived in the 6th century AD while the arms and armour in this series clearly date from many centuries later. But then most of the stories of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table are of course much later medieval legends. This series gives us the legendary version, which is what television audiences in the 50s would have expected since that’s what they’d seen in Hollywood movies like Knights of the Round Table.

On the other hand the producers went to a lot of trouble with the sets and costumes and they look splendid given the very limited television budgets. William Russell makes a lively and very personable hero and handles the action scenes with dash and enthusiasm.

Network have released the entire series on DVD. Happily all 30 episodes have survived. The DVD set includes colour transfers of 12 of the 14 episodes made in colour. The picture quality is slightly variable (as you’d expect in a series made 60 years ago) but on the whole the quality is fine and most of the colour episodes look superb.

As long as you remember that it was aimed at younger audiences this series is great fun and highly recommended.