Off-Beat Black Comedy that Plays Like an Episode of Boris Karloff's "Thriller" TV Show.
In Fact it Looks TV, Sounds TV, and Ultimately, Ironically that was the Format where the Brits had to Settle.
It was a Time when the British Film Industry was Phasing Out this Type of Thing,
with its Ultra-Low-Budget and Smallish Appeal on the Big-Screen.
So this Well-Written and Played Little Gem did Not get Distributed and Languished in Limbo for Years.
Above Average, Highly-Entertaining and Snappy Thriller.
It also Reminds of those "E. C." Pre-Code Comics that had Mothers and Senators in a Tizzy.
The Plot is "Hide-the-Body" Against All Odds.
Because the Living Room is Not the Ideal Graveyard.
Although it did Become One for Serial-Killer and Kids Party Clown John Wayne Gacy.
Remove the Floor-Boards, Add a Bag of Cement,
and Try to Avoid those Suburban Nuisances Like Nosy-Neighbors, Nuns with Collection Plates, Uninvited Doting Mom, and the Ever-Present Local Police.
The Door-Bell gets a Work-Out at just the Wrong Time and the Thing Escalates the Suspense and Frustration Factor for the One-Hour Running Time.
It Ends with a Twist, Fitting for 1962, the Era of the Dance-Craze.
This is Adult Entertainment for the Main-Stream.
In Fact it Looks TV, Sounds TV, and Ultimately, Ironically that was the Format where the Brits had to Settle.
It was a Time when the British Film Industry was Phasing Out this Type of Thing,
with its Ultra-Low-Budget and Smallish Appeal on the Big-Screen.
So this Well-Written and Played Little Gem did Not get Distributed and Languished in Limbo for Years.
Above Average, Highly-Entertaining and Snappy Thriller.
It also Reminds of those "E. C." Pre-Code Comics that had Mothers and Senators in a Tizzy.
The Plot is "Hide-the-Body" Against All Odds.
Because the Living Room is Not the Ideal Graveyard.
Although it did Become One for Serial-Killer and Kids Party Clown John Wayne Gacy.
Remove the Floor-Boards, Add a Bag of Cement,
and Try to Avoid those Suburban Nuisances Like Nosy-Neighbors, Nuns with Collection Plates, Uninvited Doting Mom, and the Ever-Present Local Police.
The Door-Bell gets a Work-Out at just the Wrong Time and the Thing Escalates the Suspense and Frustration Factor for the One-Hour Running Time.
It Ends with a Twist, Fitting for 1962, the Era of the Dance-Craze.
This is Adult Entertainment for the Main-Stream.