"At first it seemed just like every other day", says a voice-over that, bizarrely, sounds uncannily like Nicholas Ridley, 1980s Tory oligarch and NIMBY hater. But hold! Maxwell Reed, Mr Joan Collins no less, is strolling along outside a country house, white sticked (he's blind, like), trilby hatted and three piece suited - and this is a film, of course, not some political nightmare, that's why it's on IMDb.
"As I walked towards the lodge gates, I remember the feeling I got a sort of tingling in the spine." Oh dear. This is dreadful. It's also hard at first to connect Reid's voice-over, for it is he, with his real time voice on screen and its quasi American tough guy quips. Still, Benny the gatekeeper is here to smooth things over. "Who's doing the op for you, sir?" (Reed is about to have his sight restored). "Dr. Langley" (Reed says this very strangely.) "Oh, you'll be alright with him." "Yeh, sure I will", replies Reed. "Look, I only asked", Benny might have replied.
Before the op though Max wants to party. So via a drive through some classic English countryside and Big Ben by night he is dropped, although not literally, in Kensington. Or is he? Here we have the main problem with "Blackout". Despite it being a great idea for a film - blind man "witnesses" a murder but doesn't know who the murderers are or who has been murdered or even where he is - cast and crew are unable to exploit its central idea. There are some nice touches typical baddie Eric Pohlmann trimming his moustache in a mirror; Reed reflected double in the windows of corner shop; and the climax features Reed confronting Pohlmann after shooting out the houselights. The villain of the piece experiences the "blackout" that was Reed's previous misfortune.
There's also the usual time capsule quality to film's of this era Dinah Sheridan, popping out to meet Reed, dressed in a fur coat; and buses trundling passed, advertising Drink A Mann's Beer.
Once Reed's sight is restored, he talks straight American. Is this an analogy for old world England emerging in the post war light and throwing off its class based chains or is Reed just a bit rubbish?
Reminds me of a story my old mum used to tell about a male youth in early 50s Birkenhead who affected an American accent because he thought it was cool. His father sent him to a psychiatrist.
"As I walked towards the lodge gates, I remember the feeling I got a sort of tingling in the spine." Oh dear. This is dreadful. It's also hard at first to connect Reid's voice-over, for it is he, with his real time voice on screen and its quasi American tough guy quips. Still, Benny the gatekeeper is here to smooth things over. "Who's doing the op for you, sir?" (Reed is about to have his sight restored). "Dr. Langley" (Reed says this very strangely.) "Oh, you'll be alright with him." "Yeh, sure I will", replies Reed. "Look, I only asked", Benny might have replied.
Before the op though Max wants to party. So via a drive through some classic English countryside and Big Ben by night he is dropped, although not literally, in Kensington. Or is he? Here we have the main problem with "Blackout". Despite it being a great idea for a film - blind man "witnesses" a murder but doesn't know who the murderers are or who has been murdered or even where he is - cast and crew are unable to exploit its central idea. There are some nice touches typical baddie Eric Pohlmann trimming his moustache in a mirror; Reed reflected double in the windows of corner shop; and the climax features Reed confronting Pohlmann after shooting out the houselights. The villain of the piece experiences the "blackout" that was Reed's previous misfortune.
There's also the usual time capsule quality to film's of this era Dinah Sheridan, popping out to meet Reed, dressed in a fur coat; and buses trundling passed, advertising Drink A Mann's Beer.
Once Reed's sight is restored, he talks straight American. Is this an analogy for old world England emerging in the post war light and throwing off its class based chains or is Reed just a bit rubbish?
Reminds me of a story my old mum used to tell about a male youth in early 50s Birkenhead who affected an American accent because he thought it was cool. His father sent him to a psychiatrist.