Peeping Tom (1960)

As with Les Diaboliques, I know the first time I saw anything from this was on Bravo's 100 Scariest Movie Moments but I'm sure I, at least, knew of the title and a bit of its reputation beforehand, possibly from a book on horror films at my high that was written in the early 80's, as well as maybe The Horror Movie Survival Guide or The Amazing, Colossal Book of Horror Trivia. But that special, which featured it at #38, was where I learned of just how reviled it was when it was original released and how, as many have said, it virtually destroyed the directing career of Michael Powell, who never made another film in England afterward. After that, I learned more from various other sources, including the Virgin Books horror films edition (while it didn't spotlight Peeping Tom itself, it did talk about how it got the exact opposite reaction of Psycho, released the same year), and then, one October (the year completely eludes me), Turner Classic Movies showed it on a Saturday and I decided to check it out. I remember thinking it was good, but it wasn't until I re-watched it after getting it on Blu-Ray (a Region B release from Studio Canal; while TCM showed the Criterion Collection release, it's been out of print for years) in 2020 that I could say I genuinely like it and think it's a really good film. While it's very well-acted, especially by Carl Boehm as the disturbed but tormented and sympathetic killer, and certainly well-made, it's also surprising just how unsettling a film it still is, as it delves deep into the killer's psyche, showing the audience what made him the way he is and going into his compulsions to murder and film at the same time. It's a very sleazy film for its time, as well, not shying away from the seedy side of London, the subjects of sexual repression, the uglier part of commercial photography, and voyeurism, and even featuring, albeit very briefly, a shot of a woman who's nude in the front, the first time such a thing was ever seen in British cinema. With all that in context, it's then not surprising that it caused such an outrage and was destined to become a cult film that was rediscovered and seen for how great it is many years later.

A London prostitute picks up a potential client who, unbeknownst to her, is filming her with a camera hidden under his coat. The two of them go back to her apartment but, as the prostitute begins stripping down and sits on the bed, the man continues filming as he murders her. Later, he watches the film at his own apartment and, the next day, films the removal of the woman's body from her home. The murderer is Mark Lewis, who works as a focus puller at a London film studio and also has a side job where he photographs soft-core pin-ups to be sold under the counter at a newsagent shop. At the building where he lives, Mark meets Helen Stephens, a tenant who lives with her blind mother in the apartment below his own. As she's celebrating her 21st birthday, Helen invites Mark to join the party, but he politely refuses, saying he was work to do. Later, as he's viewing his footage of the body removal, he's visited by Helen, who brings him a piece of birthday cake. Inviting her in, he tells her the building is actually his childhood home and that, with his father dead, he rents out various rooms in order to keep the place in good condition. He also tells her of his job and his aspirations to become a director, then shows her some old home films of himself as a child, which were shot by his father. The footage quickly proves to be rather unsettling, as Mark's father is shown filming him watching a couple making out in the park and, even more disturbingly, while he's sleeping, often shining a light in his face. Most horrific of all is when a lizard is placed in his bed, scaring and making him cry, and he's filmed saying a final farewell to his mother. There's also footage of his stepmother and when his father gave him his first ever camera. Helen is unnerved by this and Mark explains that his father was a scientist who was interested in documenting an entire record of his child's life, taking a keen interest in how his nervous system reacted to the stimulus of fear. Despite this, Helen finds herself drawn to Mark, unaware that his father's experiments have also created a compulsion in him to murder and film his victims' fear. And should Mark ever see her frightened, Helen herself could become a victim of his.

One of the most oft-quoted bits of trivia about Peeping Tom is that it virtually destroyed the career of director Michael Powell, who'd been working in the film industry since the silent era in various capacities, including as a stills photographer on several of Alfred Hitchcock's early films. He'd gotten some work as director as early as 1928, albeit as an uncredited co-director, and his first solo credit was on a now lost 1931 film called Two Crowded Hours. He directed a good number of films throughout the 1930's, many of them regarded as "quota quickies," although seen as much more sophisticated than other such films, with some even getting fairly good reviews. However, it wasn't until 1937 that Powell made his first truly personal and significant film, The Edge of the World, and after that, he made The Spy in Black in 1939, where he met writer Emeric Pressburger, who would become a major collaborator of his. The two of them formed a production company called The Archers and co-wrote, produced, and directed a number of prestigious films from 1942 to 1957, such as One of Our Aircraft Is Missing, The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, A Canterbury Tale, A Matter of Life and Death, Black Narcissus, and, probably most famously, The Red Shoes. But, in the 1950's, they didn't have nearly the amount of success they'd had in the 40's, and after 1957's III Met by Moonlight, they decided to go their separate ways. Following 1959's Honeymoon, which wasn't well-regarded, Powell directed Peeping Tom, which was absolutely despised by critics, and, after the release of his next film, 1961's The Queen's Guards, which was shot before Peeping Tom's release and was pretty much ignored, he never worked in England again. He directed four more films, two of which saw him re-team with Pressburger, and he also did some television work, but his theatrical career was done by the early 70's. Powell died of cancer in 1990, at the age of 84, but did live long enough to see the reappraisal of Peeping Tom and some of his other films.

Since Michael Powell had worked with Hitchcock near the beginning of their respective careers (they remained friends afterward), it's fitting that their two most well-known, or infamous, works should be tied together. There are many similarities between Peeping Tom and Psycho and I'm going to continually bring that film up during the discussion, but the most obvious is that, like Norman Bates, Mark Lewis (Carl Boehm) is a young, good-looking but shy, soft-spoken recluse who spends most of his time in his apartment and has few, if any, social interactions. Interestingly, also like with Norman and the Bates Motel, it's revealed that he, for all intents and purposes, is the building's landlord, as it was once his childhood home but he rents out rooms through agents because he can't afford to tend to the place by himself. But where the two of them differ is that, while Norman isn't introduced until almost thirty minutes into Psycho and never truly becomes the protagonist, even after Marion Crane is murdered, Mark is very much the main character of Peeping Tom. We see him from the very beginning, as his voyeuristic eye and camera catch sight of a hooker on the street, and we also see him commit his first murder less than four minutes in, after which we see him reliving his crime by watching his film footage. His camera is virtually another limb, as he always has it with him and appears to feel virtually naked without it. He's often shooting, be it the actual murders he commits, others' reactions to discovering the bodies, and the police investigating the aftermaths. When asked what he's doing, he says he's making a documentary, one he's had planned for a long time, including the finale.

Another thing Mark has in common with Norman is the source of his psychosis: a domineering parent. As seen when he shows Helen Stephens some old home movies of himself taken by his father, A.N. Lewis, Mark's entire childhood was monitored, manipulated, and controlled by him. Lewis, a scientist and psychologist obsessed with creating a complete record of a growing child, not only filmed Mark as much as he could but also never allowed him to have keys and had all of the

house's rooms wired for sound so he could continuously spy on him. Especially interested in the reactions of the nervous system to various stimuli, particularly fear, Lewis would put Mark through monstrously abusive experiments, such as putting a lizard in his bed, shining a light on his face while he was trying to sleep, and even having him visit his mother when she was on her deathbed. The man truly had no care whatsoever for what this did to his son's psyche, as when Mark shows Helen the film with the lizard, Lewis' voice

is heard in Mark's memory, menacingly saying, "That will do, Mark. Dry your eyes and stop being silly." And after Mark's mother died, Lewis swiftly remarried and, before he and his new wife left for their honeymoon, he gave the boy a present: his first-ever camera, starting him on the road to where he is when the story begins. It's well-known that Michael Powell himself plays Mark's father in these films, with Powell's own son, Columba, playing young Mark (Columba's actual mother also appeared in that one bit as Mark's dying mother), which further disturbed many of the critics who were already appalled by the film, as they felt it was a sign of Powell being an unhinged, abusive parent. Columba, however, has always viewed such readings as ridiculous.

While Mark's father may not live on in his psyche as another personality, and he does seem to have some contempt for the man, with the home films being hard for him to watch, the years of abuse and total lack of privacy he heaped upon his son have made him an intense voyeur, a subject he himself was researching before he died, as seen in the footage where he films young Mark watching a couple making out. Besides working at a film studio and as a soft-core photographer, Mark now

feels compelled to both watch and film various people, always taking his camera with him in case he spots a potential subject, including those who are watching and filming him as well, and also uses the microphones in the house to eavesdrop on the tenants and hear their darkest secrets. He's also taken his father's researches into the effect of fear to ghoulish extremes, as he not only films the people he murders but also mounts a mirror atop his camera so the victims can actually see their own fear as they die, which is by one of the

camera's own tripod legs. Most disturbing of all, this compulsion to kill and film at the same time is driven by the pleasure and excitement Mark gets from seeing someone when they're afraid, as it's the only stimulus he's ever known. He's also very excited when one of the models he's meant to photograph is revealed to have a scar on the right side of her mouth, a sign of the exact depths of his deviancy. And yes, there is a very clear sexual overtone to Mark's murders, as he's not only seen nuzzling and caressing his camera many times (he even kisses it at one point) but he also tends to slowly run his hand across the length of its legs in order to unscrew the cap and reveal the very phallic blade. Plus, his victims are all women, with two of them being a prostitute and a pin-up model. 

Like most psychopaths, Mark, despite his social awkwardness, can be charming and even funny when he wants to be, which is how he's able to talk Vivian, a stand-in for the star of the movie being shot at the studio, to meet him on the set after hours so he can film her murder. She's so at ease with him that, even though she's been told that the scene they're going to shoot requires her to act out being frightened to death, she's so giddy, bubbly, and relaxed after her extended warmup that she just

can't get into it, telling him, "It's due to you. You're so at home with that camera, you make me feel at home, too. You have it in you, boy." Later, after Vivian's body is discovered and the police are investigating the studio, Mark waits outside the office to be questioned, along with a clapper boy, and tells him about his filming. He admits that he doesn't care if they catch him, and when the guy asks, "Mark, are you crazy?", he jokes, "Yes. Do you think they'll notice?" That's another thing: he's so innocuous that, as he's filming away during the

investigation, no one pays him any mind. When he films two detectives going into the makeup room to interview someone, one of them, Sgt. Miller, jokes about it, and when he's interviewed by them later, he even offers them the film in the camera, but they allow him to keep it, so long as he doesn't exhibit it publicly. And his charm is a major reason why Helen falls for him, despite the troubling films he showed her.

Speaking of Helen, she proves to be the first real human interaction Mark's had in a long time. Though he takes an interest in her before they formally meet, as he looks in through her window when she's having a party with the other tenants, the two of them slowly but surely form a connection when she invites him to said party and later visits him in his room, where he tells her about himself, what he does for a living, and also shows her a bit of his father's old films. When she

visits him again some time later, he gives her a belated birthday present, a dragonfly pin, and she tells him that a child's storybook she's been writing in her spare time has been accepted for publication, something he's genuinely overjoyed to hear. He's a bit taken aback when she tells him that the premise of the book is, "A magic camera and what it photographs," but when she says she needs actual photographs in it, Mark is more than happy to oblige, saying he won't charge her for it. He invites

her to dinner the following night so the two of them can discuss it, but not before he meets Helen's blind mother, who's always found him to be a suspicious person with how he sneaks about and peers through the windows. Helen also talks Mark into leaving behind his camera, for once, and he even allows her to leave it in a room that turns out to have been his mother's old bedroom. On their way to the restaurant, Helen gets a hint of how compulsive Mark is about his camera, as he reaches for where he normally keeps it under his

left arm when they come across a couple making out. Regardless, they have a good time, and when they get back home, Helen brings him back his camera, which he mimes holding while she goes for it, possibly realizing just then that he went a whole evening without it. She then jokes about how it would see her, a notion that causes Mark to panic, as he grabs the camera and exclaims, "Not you!... It will never see you... Whatever I photograph, I always lose." Following this uneasy exchange, Helen implores Mark to go straight to bed and he promises he will after he finishes his work for the evening. She then kisses him before going back to her room, which deeply troubles him, as he runs his cheek against his camera's viewfinder and kisses it before running up to his room.

As he prepares to screen the film of his murder of Vivian, Mark discovers that Helen's mother is in the room. During their confrontation, he switches on the projector, running the film, and is aghast when it fades to black before her death. Saying he has to find another opportunity, he begins filming Mrs. Stephens and briefly removes the sheath on one of the tripod legs, exposing the blade, but manages to hold himself back. He allows Mrs. Stephens to leave and, while she doesn't know

exactly what's going on, she can tell how disturbed he is and advises him to get help, adding that she doesn't want him to see Helen again until he does. Mark promises to never photograph Helen, and also says that the two of them won't have to move because of him, either. The next day, at the studio, Mark talks with Dr. Rosan, a psychiatrist brought in to help the frightened star of the movie being filmed, and asks him about treatment for people with scopophilia, but becomes despondent when he's told that it would take several years of

analysis. What he gets, instead, is inspiration for how to fix the problem with his film, leading him to film and murder one of the models in his side job of photographing soft-core stills. This leads into the ending, where he does finish his documentary, which, as his father had done with his experiments and research, he'd planned every single step of. Helen is also there to see it in all its horrific glory.

Helen Stephens (Anna Massey) is a very sweet-natured, fun-loving young woman who, after passing Mark numerous times on the stairs, formally introduces herself to him on the night of her 21st birthday party and invites him in to join them. After he politely turns her down, she urges him to pop in later on, but when times passes and he doesn't show up, Helen takes the initiative and brings him a piece of her birthday cake. He invites her into his apartment, where she learns about how the building belonged to his father and what he does for a living. Showing a keen interest when she learns he works in the film industry, Mark decides to show her the section of his apartment dedicated to his film work and also screens some of his father's home films of him. Though they start out as innocuous, Helen becomes alarmed when she sees young Mark being filmed while watching a couple making out and is downright horrified when she sees the film where the lizard is placed in his bed. She's further disturbed when Mark tries to film her while watching, which she doesn't allow, and when she sees young Mark at his mother's deathbed. Rushing back into the living area, Helen asks Mark what his father was trying to do to him, which is when Mark tells him of his father's research and how he filmed and watched him virtually 24/7. Though Mark says he's sure some good came out of it, Helen, appalled, comments, "A scientist drops a lizard onto a child's bed and good comes of it?" Despite this, Helen later confesses to her mother that she likes Mark, saying he has a "quality" about him, despite Mrs. Stephens' not being sure about him. She tells Mark of her hobby in writing children's stories and that her latest book, which has been selected for publication, was inspired by him, as it's about a magic camera. She also gets him to agree to take photographs for the book and their relationship continues to develop, with Mark getting her a pin as a late birthday present and the two of them going out to dinner to discuss the book. Though Helen wishes Mark wouldn't take his camera, as he always does, she does give him the opportunity to do so but he decides to go without it and has a good time as a result. But, when they get back and she jokes about her being filmed by Mark, he freaks out, insisting that it's something he will never do. She then gives him an awkward goodnight kiss and goes back to her apartment. The next day, she goes up to see him while he's out, having brought something for him, and decides to view one of his personal films, discovering his dark secret, only to then be confronted by him.

Helen's blind and somewhat boozy mother (Maxine Audley) is something of a cliche in how her other senses, especially her hearing, are perfectly attuned to make up for her loss of sight, which she later says was due to her allowing the wrong man to operate on her eyes, but she also has a strong gut instinct as a result. Said instinct tells her there's something odd about Mark, as she tells Helen, "I don't trust a man who walks quietly,"; Helen insists Mark is just shy but her mother says, "His footsteps aren't. They're stealthy." In spite of this, she allows Helen to go up and visit Mark. However, when she learns of Vivian's murder, she become suspicious, knowing that Mark works in the film industry. She's then introduced to him and asks him which studio he works at, curious if he knew Vivian. Though Helen misremembers which studio the murder took place at, Mrs. Stephens' suspicions continue due to Mark's quick pulse, which she feels when she shakes his hand, and when she hears him lingering in the apartment's doorway afterward. Later that night, after Mark has brought Helen home, he discovers Mrs. Stephens hiding in his apartment as he prepares to run the film of Vivian's murder. She reveals that she knows the room quite well, saying, "The blind always live in the rooms they live under," and also that she hears him turn on the projector every night. Though she can't see the film as it runs, she does sense his disturbed mindset and becomes frightened when he starts filming her, saying it's for Helen. When he suddenly stops and tries to send her back down to her room, she's able to figure out it's because he doesn't trust himself to keep on filming her (whether she knows it or not, he was just able to stop himself from killing her). With that, she gives Mark an ultimatum: stay away from Helen until he gets some help for whatever it is that's wrong with him or the two of them will move. He promises her that they won't have to move and she allows him to guide her down the stairs. Before she goes back into her room, she runs her hands across Mark's face (taking his picture in her own way, as he puts it) and asks him point blank what's wrong with him. Mark merely goes back upstairs and Mrs. Stephens is never seen again, although according to another tenant, she has drunken nightmares about Mark photographing her.

A short-lived but very memorable character is Vivian (Moira Shearer), a stand-in at the studio where Mark works and who meets with him after hours in order to take part in the film he's making. Though he gives her a scare when she first walks on the set, and is initially worried about their being caught by those filming on the lot that night, she's impressed with how Mark has no fear and decides to go along with it. What's most memorable about her is, while Mark is getting ready, she "warms up" by dancing, gyrating, and jumping all around the stage to some music on her portable tape-recorder; it's really nothing but a chance for Shearer, who was a ballet dancer, to show of her skills. After all that, she finds she can't be serious about acting out the scene of being frightened to death that Mark intends for her, so he decides to give her some motivation, telling her that, unbeknownst to her, a madman intent on killing her is coming towards her. For further "motivation," he aims one of the tripod's legs at her and removes the sheath, revealing the blade. Now, Vivian is a bit frightened, and Mark decides to complete the picture for her by putting the mirror on the camera, allowing her to see her own fear as he murders her and dumps her body in one of the trunks on the set.

There's some humor to be had in the characters at the studio where Mark works. Although the penny-pinching studio head, Don Jarvis (Michael Goodlife), declares, "If you can see it and hear it, the first take's okay," we then see that Arthur Baden (Esmond Knight), the uptight, frustrated director of The Walls Are Closing In, the film they're currently working on, is doing take after take after take, as his star, Diane Ashley (Shirley Ann Field), can't act as though she's fainted to save

her life. After so much shooting, with Baden growing increasingly frustrated and Diane remarking, "If I have to faint once more, I will faint," she finally does a take that's usable and Baden, jumping out of his seat and asking everyone if it was okay, exclaims, "Print it!" This comes back around in a darkly humorous manner when Baden decides to reshoot a scene, saying he needs some comedy, and then, during rehearsal, they open up the trunk containing Vivian's body. Seeing it, Diane screams in horror and faints, while

Baden, not seeing what happened, growls, "The silly bitch, she fainted in the wrong scene!" Later, they attempt to redo the scene again, this time with a psychiatrist on hand to help Diane, but when she freaks out and runs off screaming in the middle of filming, Baden writes the whole thing off as a lost cause, saying they might as well break forever rather than half an hour.

The psychiatrist in question, Dr. Rosan (Martin Miller), proves to be far too enamored with the prospect of being on a movie set to be all that useful to Diane's plight. His only advice is to give her a proper rest, commenting that the half-hour break they're going on after the scene where Diane had her breakdown is useless. During the break, Mark speaks with Rosan, who is revealed to have been lectured by his father. Rosan is ecstatic to meet Mark, as he sings A.N. Lewis' praises, calling him an absolutely brilliant man, and he tells Mark of scopophilia (or scoptophilia, as he pronounces it), the psychological term for a peeping Tom's disorder. But, like with the filming, Rosan is more interested in reading Lewis' manuscripts than giving Mark the advice he needs, telling him the only way to uproot the compulsion is through several years of analysis. Mark then leaves despondently, while Rosan tells Chief Inspector Gregg what Mark asked him about.

Among the police, Chief Inspector Gregg (Jack Watson) is the most competent, as he describes seeing a look of extreme fear on the face of the first murder victim, saying it's unlike the looks he's normally used to seeing. When he and Sgt. Miller (Nigel Davenport) are called to the studio and look at Vivian's body, they both note the same type of expression on her face. They begin by questioning everyone involved with the filming, including Mark, whom neither of them sees as a suspect. In

fact, Miller is rather amused by Mark's filming everything, including him and Gregg going into a dressing room to talk with someone, and when they interview him, Miller fiddles around with his camera and takes a shot of him. Gregg even has Mark show him to the set, where he learns from the doctor that Vivian was killed in the same manner as the first victim. Later, on the day when Dr. Rosan is on the set, Gregg becomes somewhat suspicious with Mark's questions to the doctor about voyeurism. He then has the crew members, including Mark, tailed. The detective who tails Mark, Baxter (Keith Baxter), follows him to the newsagent, where he, unbeknownst to him, murders again, and then follows him a little while longer. Calling in to Gregg, he's advised to call off the surveillance, but not long after that, Gregg gets a call while he's at home, learning of the victim found at the newsagent and realizing that Mark is the killer.

Miles Malleson, an actor who appeared in a number of Hammer movies, appears briefly at the beginning of the film as a customer at the newsagent where Mark works part-time. Though he says he's interested in buying the paper, he's really keen on some of the soft-core photographs kept hidden under the counter and decides to buy the whole set, with the shop owner giving him a deal on it. Finally, Pamela Green, a well-known model in England at the time, appears as Milly, the

model who Mark murders at the newsagent shop near the end of the film. She's the one who briefly exposes her bare breasts, making for the first instance of this in British cinema and further ensuring the controversy the movie would find itself embroiled in. There are a number of stories about her in regards to how she bared the brunt of Michael Powell's rather cold, cruel, and demanding personality, commenting that she believed he, at one point, tried to get her to strip in front of the crew as payback for not complying with a ridiculous demand he'd made earlier.

Going back to the Psycho connection, I personally think a big reason why Peeping Tom was more reviled is because its depravity is more blatant. While Psycho is definitely a nasty, sleazy film for its time, one that involves lunchtime trysts in cheap motels, cross-dressing, grave-robbing, and, like this film voyeurism, child abuse, and sexual repression corresponding to violence, it's more subtle about it. It's far bloodier than Peeping Tom, which has no blood at all, but the really deviant aspects of its story and subject matter are more

hinted at and talked about rather than shown. Here, you not only have violence against prostitutes and soft-core pornography models but it's the fact that they're actually onscreen, with the movie opening with a prostitute propositioning Mark and him, shortly thereafter, taking more of those dirty pictures we just saw an older man becoming quite excited about, that cements this as a much sleazier film. Speaking of which, the film also doesn't pull back on the newsagent selling smut, with pictures of naked women lining the front door and the left

side, the owner's motto being that the magazines which sell the best are, "Those with girls on the front covers and no front covers on the girls," and his selling these soft-core stills, which are taken by Mark in an upstairs studio, under the counter. And then, there's that older man who comes in, surreptitiously inquires about some "views" he has for sale, and stops short of drooling as he excitedly looks through the set, which he buys in its entirety, leaving with them in an envelope that reads,

"EDUCATIONAL BOOKS." Once he's left, Mr. Peters, the owner tells Mark, "Well, he won't be doing the crossword tonight." That's, of course, to say nothing of Mark's overwhelming and deep-rooted voyeurism, which goes far beyond Norman Bates watching Marion Crane undress through a peep-hole, that instance where he appears turned on by the one model's disfigured face, and the more overt sexuality of his murders and method of killing. And finally, as mentioned in the film's

entry in 101 Horror Movies You Must See Before You Die, Peeping Tom was a realistic film set in contemporary times and shot in color, whereas Psycho's black-and-white cinematography managed to keep it just unreal enough to where it wasn't as upsetting to people. I also think the less saturated and more bland quality of the film's Eastmancolor look gives it a sleazy feel, as opposed to the bright, vibrant nature of Technicolor.

Michael Powell's most common directorial flourish in the film is the way he often shoots something from the POV of Mark's camera, be it one of his victims in the moments leading up to their murder, the aftermaths of said murders, and even the police investigation, effectively bringing home the notion of his obsessive voyeurism, with the viewfinder's perpendicular lines making it come off as a gun-sight (not inappropriate, since it is his murder weapon, as well). Moreover, Powell establishes this main theme right from the beginning, with the

very first shot being a close-up of Mark's eye, followed quickly by the first shots from his camera, which we're shown he's hiding under his coat. And rather than showing the gory details of the murders, Powell instead does tight zoom-ins on their faces just as Mark is about to plunge the blade into their necks (originally, more of the murders was shown but the BBFC cut them back), whereas the discoveries of the bodies either take place offscreen or are obscured. There's a rather odd moment that happens when Helen introduces Mark

to her mother. As he follows Helen inside, walking towards the camera, it transitions to inside the apartment and you can see a thin veil, akin to a window curtain, suddenly rise up in front of the camera, as if it were placed under it. I don't know if that's symbolic or if it was a weird goof but it's something I only noticed during this initial viewing. A much more clever bit of technique on Powell's part comes when Mark shakes Mrs. Stephens' hand: as she asks him if he'd been

running recently, you can just faintly hear a rhythmic beating sound, meant to represent Mark's pulse. It's a much more subtle cousin to the audio of his father's voice, which you hear at certain points to remind us of where all this horror stemmed from. You hear the pulse again when they shake hands once more before Mark and Helen leave for the restaurant, making Mrs. Stephens all the more suspicious of him, and near the end of the movie, when Mark shows Helen the mirror he puts on his camera, you can hear the sound of a woman screaming when her distorted reflection is onscreen. And during their dinner date, it cuts to Mark's room, panning from his timer to where the film is developing, and we then cut to their date, while keeping the shot inside his room transposed over them, juxtaposing how Mark's work is never completely off his mind, as seen when he glances at his watch.

Right from the beginning, the supposedly posh and proper London is shown to have a seedy underside, with the second shot being of a nasty, trash-laden street, with a hooker waiting in front of a storefront. When Mark appears interested in the prostitute, Dora, she leads him across the street and under an archway to her flat, which is a tiny little apartment that's later revealed to be above a bar. This is definitely the most rundown part of the city that's ever seen, and there are some decent-looking spots, like the library where Helen works, the

housing area where Mark watches her from, the well-to-do building where Mark and the other tenants live, and the nice restaurant where he and Helen go out to dinner, but there's still a seediness that pops up here and there, most significantly in the newsagent store. Besides the nude photographs seen on the front door and storefront window, there's also the small studio upstairs where Mark takes the soft-core pornography. It's as tacky as you might expect, with gaudy and sleazy backdrops, oddly-colored objects, such as a bright blue lamp and gramophone with a green horn, dressing mirrors for the models, various bits of furniture like cots and a tiger-skin rug, ripped sections of wallpaper, and vibrantly-colored lights that add to the smuttiness.

The most memorable set in the film is the interior of the large house that used to be Mark's childhood home. It's mostly a well-to-do building, with a lovely foyer beyond the front door, which is where Helen and her mother's comfortable, nicely-furnished apartment is, as well as the washroom and a staircase leading up to Mark's room on the second floor. Mark's apartment is divided into two halves, one of which is the living area immediately beyond the door. It's simultaneously lovely, with a nice marble fireplace and a big bookcase on either

side that contains the books Mark's father wrote concerning his research, but also rather cramped, with a small cot against the wall, a small table next to it, and a big, comfy chair across from that, with a little kitchen beyond the living area. The other half of the apartment, separated from the rest by a drape, is devoted to Mark's film developing and screening. Much larger than the living area, it's always in the dark, lit by red, overhead lights and table-lamps, and contains shelves of chemicals, wheels where the film is run across once it's

developed, the various cameras Mark has used over the years, the control center for all of the audio wiring his father had in the house, and a spot in the far back where there's a projector, a locker full of film reels, a screen, and even a director's chair with Mark's name on it. Fittingly, this used to be where Mark's father worked, but he sold all of his equipment and replaced it with what it now houses. Back downstairs, there's a door at the foot of the staircase that leads into what was once Mark's mother's room, which you see is rather bright and garish in its color scheme. Also, while it's never stated, you can probably guess it hasn't changed much since the day she died.

The other most noteworthy set is the film studio where Mark works, specifically E-Stage, the soundstage where the movie, The Walls Are Closing In, is being shot. It provides the most colorful imagery in the film, as the movie appears to be a screwball comedy and the stage is mostly meant to look like a department store and an elevator, with lots of bright, colorful paraphernalia and lighting, including pinks and greens. But in the scene where Mark murders Vivian, the stage and studio as a whole are given a more sinister vibe,

with the dark lighting, Mark closing the stage-door, effectively trapping Vivian without her knowing, and the camera platform he uses to descend down towards her after giving her a harmless scare. The department store trappings are also turned on their head in a dark fashion, as one of the trunks used is where Mark stores Vivian's body, leading to the moment where Diane screams and faints at the sight of her. And during the police investigation, Mark uses a stairway to enter the stage unseen and then climbs up onto some scaffolding that allows him to reach the rafters above the stage and film the police at work. We also see just about every other part of the studio, like the dressing rooms, the offices, and the screening room, as well as the front gate.

In more ways than one, Peeping Tom is about film itself. In one way, it gives us a bit of peek at the conflict that goes on between the movie-making business and auteur filmmakers. While studio head Don Jarvis has his secretary send a memo to all the producers and directors working there that they must keep costs down by accepting the first take, we then see director Arthur Baden doing numerous takes of a scene. Moreover, when he later sees a scene put together in the screening room, Baden decides to do it again in order to spruce the film up

with some comedy, and later, after the discovery of Vivian's body briefly shuts everything down, he brings Diane back on the set, this time with a psychiatrist on hand to help her, determined to salvage the movie. Baden himself can be seen as a sort of caricature of the temperamental and demanding Michael Powell, while Mark's exacting, perfectionist nature, one more concerned for the "art" than those involved, is very much in line with Powell's cold and, at times, downright cruel

personality (it's said that when Pamela Green got badly burned after standing under some enormous arc lights used in a scene, Powell couldn't have cared less and just said to make sure she was ready for the next shot). In that regard, it's very darkly fitting that Powell himself played the father who turned his son into a dangerous psychotic through his intrusive and violating experiments. Martin Scorsese, who's a big admirer of Powell's films, especially this one, goes even further by describing it as one of the great ones about filmmaking in and of itself, as it gets into just how aggressive and violating an artform it can be.

A very common reading of the movie is that it's about how watching movies, in and of itself, is voyeuristic. Like Mark in his constant filming, we're watching other people go about their lives, unaware that they're being viewed, but here, we actually get to view what Mark films as it happens through his camera, especially in his murdering the prostitute, Dora, at the beginning of the movie and the removal of her body. We also see him watching this very footage himself in the screening room in his apartment, becoming excited when it draws

closer to the kill, just like an audience in a theater, who go into a horror movie because they want to see violence, depravity, and fear on the screen. It also makes the argument that the director of such a movie could, like Mark, be the biggest maniac of all, akin to what Wes Craven always said about how the audience should be scared of the director first and foremost. It's compounded by the fact that, in this case, the very person who's making us into voyeurs is the same person who is depicted

tormenting and filming his own son, never allowing him any privacy at all during his childhood, which, in turn, results in the man who commits the atrocities we see play out in the actual movie we're watching. As a result, such a man not only feels like he's crazy but also like we're completely at his mercy, that we'll see what he wants us to, regardless of how we feel. And just like Powell, Mark is in complete control of what everyone will see in the movie he's making, right down to its shocking ending, which he planned from the start.

Another thing the film shares with Psycho in terms of its legacy is that it can be seen as a prototype of the slasher genre. In fact, while it's not as graphically violent, it has a bit more in common with the genre than Psycho, as it's about a killer going through a series of nubile young women, two of whom are obviously sexually active, while Helen is the innocent "final girl" who manages to survive the ordeal. Also, as would become a common trope for the genre, we do often see from the killer's POV, even if it is him looking through

his camera's viewfinder, whereas in Psycho, the only time we see through Norman's POV is when he looked at Marion through the peephole. But, that said, both films are examples of the concept of a killer murdering people with a bladed weapon. Also, while this isn't case with every slasher film, there are certainly other killers who, like Mark and Norman, are products of bad families and/or parents, like Leatherface and Frank Zito in Maniac. And now that I think about it, Peeping Tom does

have a lot in common with Maniac, as they're both about killers who were abused by their parents and stalk their victims in the seedy areas of the cities they live in, while, at the same time, having a possible romantic relationship with women who are unaware of their psychotic natures. They're also both about exploring their villains' psychotic minds and Maniac was also absolutely despised when it was originally released (but, unlike Peeping Tom, it hasn't had a critical reappraisal in the years since and I doubt it ever will).

As I said, the film establishes itself from the very start, with Mark walking down a rundown London street, casually whistling, when he spots the prostitute, Dora, standing in front of a storefront. He switches on his camera, which he has hiding under his coat, and we watch through the viewfinder as he approaches her, appearing interested. She tells him it'll be two quid and he follows her over to the door leading to her apartment. Tossing a small box that once contained

celluloid into a garbage can, he follows her through the door and up the stairs, passing another woman on her way down. Once they're inside her apartment, she takes off her fur stole and sits on the bed, beginning to undress herself. But then, Mark does something that catches her attention, and as he approaches her, with a reflection of light shining in her face, she becomes frightened and starts screaming as he closes in, the camera getting right on her face as she leans back on the bed. It then

cuts to a shot of a film projector, with Mark now watching what he shot back at his own apartment. The opening credits play over a close-up of the film as it runs on the screen, and at one point, Mark, getting excited as it gets closer to the kill, stands up out of his chair. Once it's over and the film is done, he sits back down. The next day, he's back at the scene, filming the police investigation of the murder from down the street. A man from the building next door notices and approaches him, asking him which newspaper he's from. At first,

Mark is confused, but when the man asks again, he says, "The Observer." He then switches to another angle, as Dora's body is removed from the scene and placed in the back of the van. Mark slowly moves towards the vehicle, then rounds the corner ahead of him to continue filming while it drives off. He then switches to filming the newspapermen covering the crime.

At his job at the newsagent shop, Mark, after spotting an image of Doris on the front page of the latest copy of the Daily Mirror (news really does travel fast, seeing as how the murder and discovery of the body only just happened), which seems to excite him a bit, goes upstairs to shoot some of his soft-core stills. He's greeted at the door by Milly, who calls him Cecil Beaton (a famous English fashion photographer of the time), and when he walks in, he looks over at the window and sees a

new model standing there in total profile, smoking a cigarette. After being told the woman's name is Lorraine, Mark gets to work photographing Milly, as she and Lorraine talk about Doris' murder and how Milly went out with her boyfriend, only to run into her fiance. Milly then asks Mark, as he puts her in another pose, "Can you fix it so the bruises don't show?", and he goes back under the camera's cloth, drumming his fingers as he watches her do the same thing through the viewfinder. After taking

his shot, he switches out his film and prepares to photograph Lorraine, as Milly asks him about his availability and what he actually does for a living. After the store owner, Mr. Peters, brings the girls some tea, Milly tells Lorraine it's her turn. She seems hesitant, as she continues standing with her right side to the window, smoking her cigarette. Milly tells Mark it's her first time and implores her not to be shy. That's when Lorraine turns to reveal a nasty scar on the right side of her mouth, telling Mark, "He said you needn't photograph my face."

Mark, however, is quite taken with the sight of it and quickly takes out his own, 16mm film camera. He slowly moves towards Lorraine and films her face, ignoring Milly when she asks about the customers and tells Lorraine it's his first time in front of such eyes, he trailing off as he begins filming her, while she's clearly confused and creeped out. Milly, meanwhile, just shakes her head and pours herself some tea.

That night, in his apartment, Mark screens the footage he took of Doris' body being removed. In the middle of it, he hears someone knocking at his door and quickly switches off the projector, takes the film reel off and places it in a locker, then goes out to his living area and quickly makes his bed up. Making himself presentable he then opens the door to find it's Helen, whom he met when he arrived home earlier. She offers him a piece of birthday cake from her party downstairs, which he gladly

accepts. He also invites her in, and after some small-talk, the subject of his occupation comes up and she asks if he were screening some films of his own when she knocked. She expresses an interest in seeing them and Mark, surprised and intrigued by this, agrees to show her. He leads her into the draped off section of his apartment and shows her his filming equipment and chemicals for film developing, before guiding her to a chair near the projector. He says he doesn't know what to show

her and she suggests he run what he was looking at before. Mark goes to the locker and does take out the reel he was screening but, looking at Helen's innocent, smiling face, he puts it back in and grabs something else instead. He puts the reel in the projector and allows Helen to sit in his director's chair. After turning out the rest of the excessive lights, he switches on the machine, the film showing a cute little boy sleeping in his bed. Mark tells Helen the boy is him and the film was shot by his father. Helen is taken with this, calling it a

wonderful idea, when she notices a light being shined in young Mark's face and the film abruptly cuts to a shot of him crying. She then sees young Mark climbing up onto and sitting on a fence, after which it's revealed he's spying on a young couple making out a nearby bench. Helen comments, "Naughty boy. I hope you were spanked," but when the camera pans from him watching back to the couple, she's troubled by the idea of his father filming such a thing. He offers to turn the film off but Helen decides to watch on. The next bit shows

him again being filmed while he's trying to sleep, only this time, after the light is shined in his face, a large lizard suddenly jumps into bed with him. Helen is startled by this, and as she watches young Mark back away from the lizard, a light is shined in her own face. She looks to see Mark sitting nearby, attempting to film her while she watches, but she stops him, asking him to explain what's going on in the film. In it, the lizard crawls towards young Mark and then runs between his legs, leading the boy to start crying and wiping his eyes. Mark himself then remembers his father telling him to dry his eyes and, "Stop being silly."

Quite troubled by what she just saw, Helen, again, asks Mark to explain what was going on with the lizard, while Mark himself is rather troubled by the memory. He suggests that Helen had best go and puts away his camera, but when the film switches to another scene, she continues watching and sees young Mark walk into a room and over to a bedside, where a woman's arms can be seen lying limply on the cover. When she asks what's happening, Mark answers, "Saying goodbye. My...

mother," and touches Helen's shoulder, startling her. She then asks in disbelief, "He photographed that?", and Mark, answering, "Yes," suddenly speeds up the film, adding, "And this: the funeral. And this: her burial. And this." The film switches to a shot of a woman in a bikini on the beach. Helen asks who she is and Mark answers, "Her successor." It then switches to a shot of Mark's stepmother holding hands with him in front of the house, as he tells Helen, "He married her six weeks

after the... previous sequence." In the film, his stepmother takes the camera, as Mark's father walks up to him and gives him something. He runs back up to fix the camera's focus and runs back to his son, as we see what his present is: his first ever camera, which is shown to be among those he showed to Helen earlier. As young Mark fiddles with the camera and starts filming, Helen, seeing how disturbed Mark himself looks at the projector and now rather unnerved herself, tells him to switch it off. Instead, he speeds the film up, and

when he ignores another a plea from her to switch it off, she does it herself and suggests they both get out of the room. Mark doesn't reply but just stares at her, while she backs away and runs for the drapes, at one point nearly running into him in the dark. Once they're both back in the living area, Mark explains to Helen what his father was attempting to do and what his research was about. He points out that, on one of the bookshelves beside the fireplace, there are number of books written by his father on the subject of fear, with

research conducted from various angles. A knock at the door turns out to be Tony, one of the party guests from earlier. He tells Helen the party seems to be breaking up and she decides to head back down. Like she did in the foyer, she invites Mark to join them but he, again, politely turns her down, saying he has work to do. She and Tony then leave him alone.

After a long day shooting at the studio, Mark tells the clapper boy he's meeting someone for a drink. At the same time, Vivian is asked by someone to have a drink on the way home but she tells him that she has a date, as she and Mark exchange glances. Nearly everyone has left the studio come nightfall, save for Vivian, who lingers in the dressing room, putting on makeup while listening to her tape player. She hears someone coming and quickly turns off her player, packs her makeup in a kit, and

after peeking out the door, grabs her coat, and hides around the corner in the back of the room. Outside, the nightwatchman walks by and looks inside the room, as Vivian ducks completely around the corner. Not seeing anyone, he turns out the light and walks on down the hallway. Vivian puts her coat on, slips out the door, and heads back to E-Stage, when she sees people working outside on the lot. She continues on to the stage and walks in, whistling. The door closes behind her and she

calls for Mark but gets no answer. She goes onto the set, when the soft whirring of Mark's own camera is briefly heard as she walks in. She whistles again, hearing someone else in the room doing the same, when a bright light comes on in her face. She calls for Mark, but still gets no answer, when another light comes on. Again, she calls for Mark, only for a third light comes on, followed by a fourth. She asks where he is and he finally responds, riding the camera platform down.

She tells him of the crew working late and suggests they call things off but Mark assures her they won't be interrupted, as he's turned the red light on. He tells her to stand in one specific spot and begins setting up the lights and camera the way he wants, saying it doesn't matter if they're caught, as neither of them have much to lose. He draws a mark for her at her feet and starts setting up a shot, telling her that he needs everything to be absolutely perfect. He allows Vivian to warm up and this is where, after taking her coat off, she turns on the

music she was listening to earlier and starts dancing and gyrating all around the stage. Mark actually films her with his own camera, then gets up and adjusts the lights on the stage's right side and pushes the platforms around to make a set for themselves. Vivian jumps onto the platform he rolls in front of her and dances around to the right side, as Mark puts a blue trunk in front of the spot he drew on the floor. She even grabs and spins around the lights, while Mark goes to open up the trunk, only for her to jump on top of it. When she

sits down, he opens it up, gently knocking her to the floor, and then spins the trunk around. Vivian sits down inside the trunk, telling Mark that she's in a hysterical mood and would feel more comfortable acting as though she were dying of laughter, not seeing the menacing manner in which Mark is looking down at her.

Later, as Vivian rewinds her tape, she notices Mark filming her with his own camera again. He then lets her see what it's like to stand behind one, allowing her to take control of the studio camera and film him on the stage. He, in turn, starts filming her with his own camera, slowly moving towards her until she loses him through the viewfinder. After finishing that, he sits back down in the director's chair and, tensing up due to his growing compulsion, tells her to go stand on her

mark. She does as she's told, walking up to it and looking down into the trunk. Behind her, Mark raises up one of the tripod legs, as Vivian asks if she's meant to imagine that someone put her in the trunk. Not feeling frightened, she suggests she may as well just do her dance number but Mark says, "Later," and presses her to try to get into the mood. She gets back on her mark and tries to think of something that would frighten her, but when that doesn't work, she asks Mark to set the mood for

her. He slowly approaches her, saying, "Imagine... someone coming towards you. He wants to kill you, regardless of consequences." He backs her up against the trunk, as she asks if this person in question is a madman. He answers, "Yes, but he knows it, and you don't. And just to kill you... isn't enough for him." He backs away, telling Vivian to stay there, and raises the tripod leg up again, telling her to imagine it's one of the killer's weapons. She's initially confused, but when Mark removes the sheath, revealing the blade, and then points it at her

neck, she admits that such a scenario would be frightening. He adds, "There's something else." He then grabs something and attaches it to the camera, which he points at Vivian and starts filming. Seeing what he just attached, she becomes genuinely scared and backs away from Mark as he slowly approaches her. She backs up against the trunk again, as the blade inches closer and closer to her throat. Now completely frightened, she begs Mark to take it away, as the camera does a tight zoom-in on her face before she drops out of view, leaving only a red light in the background, which then slowly dims.

That night, Helen pays another visit to Mark in his apartment. As he mixes some chemicals in the one section (looking like a stereotypical mad scientist), he invites Helen in, telling her to wait in the living room for a moment. He also assures her that he can speak with her, as he sets his timer. While she waits, she takes one of A.N. Lewis' books off the shelf and skims through it, but when Mark comes out, he politely puts it back on the shelf. He then gives her a belated birthday present, which she

happily accepts. She unwraps the package to find it's a small box containing a dragonfly pendent and she promptly pins it in on the left side of her blouse; Mark mimics her movements himself, and while it's never spoken of aloud, the spot where Helen pinned her new present is where he tends to carry his camera when it's holstered around his arm. Mark then looks at his watch, with five minutes left until the timer goes off, but while Helen notices this and figures that she is detaining him, he insists it's nothing that can't wait. That's

when she tells him of the children's book she's writing about the magic camera and how she would like him to take pictures for it. He happily agrees to do so and they plan to meet up the following night and talk it over during dinner. She then decides to head back downstairs and the two of them exchange glances on her way out the door, when the timer goes off and he quickly rushes to his developing film.

The next day, Arthur Baden decides to reshoot a scene in his movie, this time with an emphasis on comedy. On the set, he gives Diane Ashley her direction, and as Mark stands by the camera, he sees that Baden intends to use the trunk containing Vivian's corpse. They prepare for rehearsal, with someone asking if anyone's seen Vivian but Baden says he can't wait for her. They run through it, with Mark pulling the measuring tape from the camera to the various spots in the scene, ending on the blue

trunk. He then stands nearby when one of the actors, Michael, plays his part by dragging the trunk into place for the next part of the scene. He's surprised when the trunk turns out to be much heavier than expected but drags and then hoists it up onto a small platform. Meanwhile, Mark, prepared for what's about to happen, gets his own camera ready and begins filming. At that moment, they open the blue trunk and Diane lets out a scream and faints against Michael. Baden, not

realizing what she just saw, becomes angered, thinking she acted a fainting spell when she wasn't supposed to, while the cast and the crew gradually realize what's happened. Chief Inspector Gregg and Sergeant Miller are called in and, when they get on the set and open the trunk to look at the body for themselves, they realize Vivian has the same expression of dead fear as Doris. Mark continues filming during the investigation, remarking to the clapper boy how it's an opportunity he'd never thought he'd get, and is also interviewed by Gregg

and Miller, the former asking him about Vivian and how well he knew her. Mark, of course, lies, saying he barely knew her and merely said good night to her the last time he saw her, but does admit to making a documentary. He also says he has an alibi, as those who live in his building saw him when he arrived back home. Gregg lets him go, but asks him to guide him back to the stage, where the doctor wishes to speak with him. When he brings him there, Mark acts as though he's about to leave, but then sneaks onto a staircase that allows him to covertly enter the stage.

While Gregg heads onto the stage, Mark sneaks through an upper door, creeps down some stairs, then climbs up onto a platform that allows him access to a ladder which leads to the rafters above the stage. There, he overhears the doctor tell Gregg that Vivian was killed by the same weapon as Doris. As Gregg orders the body removed, Mark takes out his camera and begins filming. As they remove the body from the trunk, they find her tape player underneath. Gregg plays the tape, starting

up the music Vivian danced to before her death, which another detective, Baxter, starts snapping his fingers to, until Gregg discourages him. Mark continues filming, when some pencils and another object tumble out of his coat's breast-pocket. The men hear the sound of them clattering and stop what they're doing, with Gregg telling everyone to be quiet. Mark lies perfectly still up in the rafters, waiting for the moment to pass, when Baxter jokes, "I taught I heard a putty tat." Everyone goes back to work, while Mark decides it's a good time to slip away. Baxter stands up and scans around with his flashlight, just illuminating Mark's legs when he stops on the ladder on the way down. Remaining unseen, he continues on down.

The next major scene occurs after Mark brings Helen home from their dinner date. While winding the film of Vivian's murder through his projector, he realizes he's not alone. He jumps out of his chair and shines a spotlight on Mrs. Stephens, as she stands by the window. She explains that Tony helped her up the stairs to his apartment and that she wants to speak with him. While Mark suggests they talk in the living room, Mrs. Stephens says she feels more at home there in the film room, proving her point by easily making her way around

while feeling with her cane. At one point, Mark rushes to her but she holds up her cane, which has a sharp point on its tip. He then goes over to the projector and switches it on. Mrs. Stephens comments that she hears him when he runs the machine night after night and asks what it is he's projecting at the moment. He hesitates and she says, "Why don't you lie to me? I'd never know," to which he counters, "You would know at once." As the film of Vivian's murder runs, Mrs. Stephens asks Mark to take her to his "cinema" and he

guides her over to the screen. She asks him, again, what it is he's projecting, but he's too busy looking at the screen, as the film draws closer and closer to the murder. Suddenly, it goes dark and fades to white. At the sight of this, Mark becomes upset and leans up against the screen, hopelessly pounding his fists on it. He sobs, "It's no good. I was afraid it wouldn't be... The lights fade too soon." Mrs. Stephens asks him what he believes he's ruined and he answers, "An opportunity. Now, I have to find

another one." He then runs to the other side of the room and grabs his 16mm camera. As Mrs. Stephens asks where he is and what he's doing, he extends the tripod leg and switches on one of the spotlights, shining it in her face. Feeling the heat from it, she backs away until she's up against the screen, then hears the sound of his camera whirring. He says what he's doing is for Helen, that she wanted to see something he'd photographed, and asks her not to be frightened. Mrs. Stephens,

though, is very frightened, and as he points the tripod leg at her, she yells for him to put the camera away. He briefly unsheathes the blade, but then places it back and stops filming. He gives her back her cane, which she dropped, and rushes to the door. Suddenly, he starts trying to send Mrs. Stephens away, which she picks up on, and when he turns down her offer to film her some more, making up the excuse that he's run out of film, she realizes he doesn't trust himself.

Mark runs out into the living area, to the apartment's doorway, where Mrs. Stephens confronts him. She tells him, "Instinct's a wonderful thing, isn't it, Mark? A pity it can't be photographed. If I'd listened to it years ago, I... I might have kept my sight. I wouldn't have let a man operate I had no faith in. So, I'm listening to my instinct now. It says, 'All this filming isn't healthy,' and that you need help. Get it, Mark. Get it quickly. And, until you do, I don't want you and Helen to see each other." Mark promises he'll never

photograph Helen but Mrs. Stephens says she'd rather he didn't have the chance, threatening to move out with her if he doesn't take her advice. When he promises he will, she allows him to guide her down the stairs. When they get to the base, she prepares to go into her room, but not before she runs her hands across Mark's face to get some sense of what he looks like. Mark comments that it's been a long time since anyone has "taken my picture," and Mrs. Stephens asks him, "Mark,

what's troubling you?" He merely bids her good night and rushes back up to his room. She yells at him, "You'll have to tell someone! You'll have to!" He momentarily stops on the landing upon hearing this but heads on into his apartment and closes the door behind him, with Mrs. Stephens doing the same. The next day, after his brief discussion with Dr. Rosan proves unfruitful, Mark lingers around hopelessly, when the clapper boy shows him a soft-core photograph, saying you don't get the like in

Sight & Sound. Looking at it, Mark tells him he's given him an idea and he rushes out. Inspector Gregg questions Rosan about his and Mark's not so subtle meeting, learning it was about voyeurism, with Rosan commenting, "Interesting boy. He has his father's eyes." Elsewhere, Mark speaks with Mr. Peters over the phone, arranging for him to come by the newsagent at 6:00 to photography Milly. Later, when they break for the day, Gregg tells Sergeant Miller to find out what each member of the cast and crew does in their spare time.

After watching Helen leave the public library she works at, Mark makes his way to the newsagent shop, unaware that he's being followed by Baxter. He shoots a bit of the storefront, then, when the clock strikes exactly 6:00, heads inside. There, Mr. Peters tells him that Milly is waiting for him upstairs and that he has to go out for a bit. He gives Mark the key so he can lock up if he's finished before he returns. Once Peters leaves, Baxter seeing him as he watches from across the street, Mark heads upstairs, where Milly scolds him for

forcing her to break up a date with her "new" boyfriend. She demands to know why he's doing this that day and he simply says he might not be there the next day. Looking out the window, he sees Baxter. Ignoring Milly, he takes out his film camera and shoots Baxter through the window, ignoring her complaining about his not actually photographing her. He tells her, "I'm just completing a documentary," to which she comments, "You're a documentary and a half, you are." He pulls down the blind and does the same

with the window next to it, as Milly complains, "I might as well talk to a zombie. Is it safe to be alone with you, I wonder. It might be more fun if it wasn't." She's now lying on the bed, as Mark moves in on her with his camera (this is where the nude shot of Pamela Green comes in but, to be honest, it's not much to write home about, as it's only onscreen for a few seconds). The film fades to black and comes back up on Baxter waiting outside, smoking a cigarette. Mark peers through the store's door, then walks out, closes and locks it, and puts the key through the mail slot, as per Mr. Peters' instructions. Surreptitiously noticing Baxter watching him, he gets on his red motorbike and drives away. Baxter uses a taxi to keep up with him.

Back at the building, Helen runs into Tony while on her way to leave something for Mark up in his room. He tells her that her mother was yelling out about Mark photographing her but Helen writes it off as a misunderstanding. She heads upstairs and knocks on Mark's door before letting herself in. She calls for him, looking in the draped off half of his apartment, but when she walks into the back, she realizes he's not there. Looking at the projector and becoming curious about it, she then sits down at the desk it's sitting on and prepares to write

something in the book she brought. While Mark heads towards the building, Helen, having written her message, leaves the book open in front of the projector, when she becomes curious about his films. She switches on the projector and the camera slowly tracks in towards her as she watches the screen. Her expression starts off as fairly neutral, with even some cracks of smiles, but as the film goes on, she becomes troubled by what she's seeing, sitting up in the chair and then standing. She lets out a frightened gasp and backs away,

continuing to look at the screen and yet, horrified at what's playing out. She runs into Mark at the entrance to the room and he tells her not to let him see that she's frightened. He tries to make her leave, but Helen now must know the truth. She asks him if what she saw was fake, as horrible as it was, but Mark confirms the murder was real and slams the door shut behind her. He switches off the projector and tells her that, as long as he can't see her fear, she'll be safe, pushing her into the shadows to ensure it. Meanwhile, Gregg gets a call at home from Peters, who's found Milly's body. Hearing it's at the newsagent shop, which Baxter told him he'd followed Mark to when he called in, Gregg knows instantly who the killer is.

Mark tells Helen that he's decided to take her mother's advice and tell somebody everything, namely her. Explaining that the room was his father's workshop, he then tells Helen that he did more to him than what he showed her. He switches on several audio tapes of himself as a young boy screaming and crying, explaining that the rooms are all wired for sound. To further demonstrate, he turns on recent recordings from the rooms, such as those of the party in Helen's, her mother drunkenly mumbling in her own, and Tony sexually harassing

a woman in his. Helen demands that Mark tell her what exactly it was he did to the girls he murdered, something he's reluctant to do, especially if it will cause her fear. She tells him that she'll always be frightened if she doesn't know the truth and so, he grabs his camera and attaches it to the tripod. Facing and then approaching her, he says, "Do you know what the most frightening thing in the world is? It's fear. So, I did something very simple. Very simple." He holds up the camera and shows Helen, as well as the audience, the large mirror he's

attached to it, explaining, "When they felt the spike touching their throats, and knew I was going to kill them, I made them watch their own deaths. I made them see their own terror as the spike went in, and if death has a face, they saw that too." Throughout this dialogue, he holds the blade up to Helen's throat, scaring her as much as he did the others, when he says, "But not you. I promised I'd never photograph you. Not you." He then hears the sound of sirens, as the police pull up in front of the

building. Gregg, Miller, and Baxter disembark and prepare to storm the building, when Mark smashes the window. Thinking they're about to be shot at, they take cover, as big shards of glass smash at their feet, but then see that he's filming them. They head up the stairs to the door, while Mark, ignoring Helen's pleading with him to surrender, positions and locks the camera in a manner to where it's filming him. Hearing the police coming, he holds the bladed leg up towards him, then turns on all the

recordings, drags Helen to the back of the room, and throws a switch on the wall. Motioning to cameras positioned all around, he says he's timed this again and again. He tells her, "I wish I could've found your faces for you," then shoves her aside and runs back to his film camera, as flashbulbs go off all around him. 

Reaching the blade, he tells Helen that he's afraid. Knowing what he's about to do, she tries to stop him, but he flings her off him, adding, "And I'm glad I'm afraid." With that, he stabs himself through the neck with the blade, the last of the cameras photographing him as he stumbles backwards, coughs and gasps, then falls to his knees and collapses next to Helen on the floor. Helen crawls over and grasps his hand as he dies, seconds before the police make it upstairs and break down the door. A closeup of the book Helen

brought up there reveals it to be the manuscript for her children's book, The Magic Camera, and shows that she wrote, "From One Magic Camera which needs the help of Another!" The camera pulls back from the manuscript as the police get Helen to her feet, while on the tape recorder, young Mark is heard crying, followed by the sound of his father saying, "Don't be a silly boy. There's nothing to be afraid of." The film ends with the reel on the projector running out, as young Mark's voice says, "Good night, Daddy. Hold my hand."

While I would never describe Peeping Tom's music score as being as classic as Psycho's, another thing that links the two films is that, like with Alfred Hitchcock and Bernard Herrmann, the score was composed by Michael Powell's signature composer, Brian Easdale, who'd done the music for Black Narcissus and The Red Shoes, among others of the director's filmography. And like how Herrmann scored Psycho entirely with strings, the score for Peeping Tom is done almost exclusively on the piano (though the first bit of music involves a bizarre, plucking sound). It also tends to have a very silent movie quality to it, most often heard in the scenes where Mark is watching the films of his murders, which are themselves silent, as if he's got his own soundtrack playing right to the picture. The music that plays when he's watching the film of his first murder is a constantly nattering piece that suddenly changes to a lower, more menacing sound when Doris is seen backing away from and screaming at the camera, and finishes with a downbeat bit when the opening credits end. This theme is partially heard again when Mark watches his footage of the removal of Doris' body the following night and is replayed almost in its entirety when Helen watches one of his films, while a similar type plays in the lead-up to Vivian's murder and in the scene between Mark and Mrs. Stephens in his apartment. Also, when Mark contemplates showing the one film he took to Helen, a very eerie piece plays briefly, accentuating his dark mindset. The film taken during his childhood is scored immediately with a menacing sound, while the bit with him watching the couple starts with a mischievous sound that transitions into a loving one when the couple is shown onscreen. The bit with the lizard starts off eerie again, then turns pounding and very melodramatic when the lizard is thrown into his bed, before going back to eerie and ethereal when Helen sees young Mark at his mother's deathbed (this piece is reused when Mark and Helen enter his mother's old room), and then again to melodramatic during the last part of the film. Besides the murders and the suspenseful scenes, Easdale's piano continually returns all throughout the film in a more quiet manner to evoke sympathy for Mark and hint at the possible relationship he could have with Helen. Also, unlike the others, his murder of Milly is scored through a rising sound of pounding keys. Finally, during the climax where Mark commits suicide, you hear poignant strings in addition to the piano, and the movie's final moments are scored with very low-key but no less sad-sounding variations of both.

There are also a number of moments where Powell has scenes playing against music that isn't part of the score, usually contrasting against the action, like the upbeat horn music playing on the radio when Mark is taking the soft-core photos and the music heard down at Helen's party while Mark is giving her the tour of his apartment. The most notable example, though, is the extensive use of the swinging dance music Vivian plays on her tape recorder, especially during her warmup, unaware that Mark is putting together the setup for her own death.

As in the UK, Peeping Tom didn't do so well when it was released in the United States, specifically by Astor Pictures in 1962. In this case, it was less due to moral outrage and more that it was simply ignored outright. But, of course, the film is now seen as a classic and milestone of the horror-thriller genre and for good reason, as it is a very well-done film. With spot-on and occasionally innovative direction by Michael Powell, great performances from all the actors, especially Carl Boem and Anna Massey, a rather scummy and savory look and feel about the film, a deep and sometimes troubling exploration into the roots of psychosis and voyeurism, a multi-faceted look at the nature of motion pictures, a fair amount of suspenseful setpieces, and an interestingly implemented music score, there's not much that it doesn't get right. If you're a fan of Hitchcockian thrillers, especially Psycho, and want to see a less well-known but no less effective or influential cousin, you can't do much better than Peeping Tom.