This British anthology film of "Twilight Zone" type stories (15 years before that famous TV series debuted) is one of Martin Scorcese's favorite scary films. After just viewing it this morning, I must say it is very odd that this quite effective and occasionally chilling horror anthology is the solitary attempt by Ealing Studios to make a scary movie.
The trick of the movie (and if you haven't seen it, stop reading here if you don't want the magic of the film spoiled) is that it ends where the story begins; a perpetual reoccurring dream of an architect ensnared in its sinister clutches. However, once you examine the narrative, an obvious fallacy reveals itself.
The nut of the matter is this: in order for the dream (and presumably, the film) to start up again in what we would consider "normal" reality, the architect, Mr. Craig, has to fall asleep in his bed back at home with his wife. However, during the course of the story's unfolding at Pilgrim Farm where all the house guests relate their tales of the supernatural, there is the sticky question of when it is that Mr. Craig falls asleep, and an even stickier question of how his body would be returned to his bedroom in the city.
Therefore, the only feasible explanation left for us is that Mr. Craig never wakes up. In fact, when we see him waking up near the end of the movie, he is actually still asleep and only dreaming that he is waking up. But even this explanation seems wanting; why would this architect dream about all these strangers at a country farm he's never been to in the first place?
Here is where the argumentative dialogue between the characters needs to be examined. With the exception of the psychiatrist, who represents the voice of reason and Newtonian cause-and-effect governing our reality, all of the other characters defend the architect's view that supernatural events sometimes impinge on our mundane reality.
The only premise that makes sense to me, therefore, is that the film itself is holding itself up as a mirror to this pro-supernatural view, with the skeptical psychiatrist acting as a foil to generate the necessary tension. In sum, the key to opening this Chinese puzzle box is in recognizing that we the viewers, due to our willingness to suspend disbelief, automatically presume that Mr. Craig is an actual character. He is not. In a sly way, in his role as the "architect," he represents the film itself.
As a post script, let me add that I think Stanley Kubrick must have seen "Dead of Night" and enjoyed it, for there is more than a bit of this dynamic psychological tension generated in his adaptation of Stephen King's "The Shining" (1980). For example, in "Dead of Night," one of the scarier tales concerns a mirror holding a separate spatio-temporal reality within its frame, a portal to another dimension; a narrative device Kubrick and his co-writer Diane Johnson make ample use of in imbuing the Overlook Hotel with a treacherous ambiance that ensnares its doomed protagonist Jack Torrance.
Speculation on this film's influence on Mr. Kubrick aside, however, "Dead of Night" is wonderful entertainment and remarkably ingenious. My only regret is that I didn't get to see it late at night on TV as a boy, as many of the fortunate reviewers here on IMDb have delightfully related; I'm sure it would have scared the crap out of me, too.
Mr. Scorcese, if you ever happen to read this, thank you for turning me on to this thought-provoking film!
The trick of the movie (and if you haven't seen it, stop reading here if you don't want the magic of the film spoiled) is that it ends where the story begins; a perpetual reoccurring dream of an architect ensnared in its sinister clutches. However, once you examine the narrative, an obvious fallacy reveals itself.
The nut of the matter is this: in order for the dream (and presumably, the film) to start up again in what we would consider "normal" reality, the architect, Mr. Craig, has to fall asleep in his bed back at home with his wife. However, during the course of the story's unfolding at Pilgrim Farm where all the house guests relate their tales of the supernatural, there is the sticky question of when it is that Mr. Craig falls asleep, and an even stickier question of how his body would be returned to his bedroom in the city.
Therefore, the only feasible explanation left for us is that Mr. Craig never wakes up. In fact, when we see him waking up near the end of the movie, he is actually still asleep and only dreaming that he is waking up. But even this explanation seems wanting; why would this architect dream about all these strangers at a country farm he's never been to in the first place?
Here is where the argumentative dialogue between the characters needs to be examined. With the exception of the psychiatrist, who represents the voice of reason and Newtonian cause-and-effect governing our reality, all of the other characters defend the architect's view that supernatural events sometimes impinge on our mundane reality.
The only premise that makes sense to me, therefore, is that the film itself is holding itself up as a mirror to this pro-supernatural view, with the skeptical psychiatrist acting as a foil to generate the necessary tension. In sum, the key to opening this Chinese puzzle box is in recognizing that we the viewers, due to our willingness to suspend disbelief, automatically presume that Mr. Craig is an actual character. He is not. In a sly way, in his role as the "architect," he represents the film itself.
As a post script, let me add that I think Stanley Kubrick must have seen "Dead of Night" and enjoyed it, for there is more than a bit of this dynamic psychological tension generated in his adaptation of Stephen King's "The Shining" (1980). For example, in "Dead of Night," one of the scarier tales concerns a mirror holding a separate spatio-temporal reality within its frame, a portal to another dimension; a narrative device Kubrick and his co-writer Diane Johnson make ample use of in imbuing the Overlook Hotel with a treacherous ambiance that ensnares its doomed protagonist Jack Torrance.
Speculation on this film's influence on Mr. Kubrick aside, however, "Dead of Night" is wonderful entertainment and remarkably ingenious. My only regret is that I didn't get to see it late at night on TV as a boy, as many of the fortunate reviewers here on IMDb have delightfully related; I'm sure it would have scared the crap out of me, too.
Mr. Scorcese, if you ever happen to read this, thank you for turning me on to this thought-provoking film!