The Medusa Touch (1978) - film review

A French detective, Brunel, investigates the apparent murder of an English writer, John Morlar.  When he examines the body, Brunel finds that the victim is still alive and has him taken to hospital.  Far from being dead, Morlar’s brain is very much active.  Brunel’s investigation leads him to Morlar’s psychiatrist, Dr Zonfeld, who reluctantly begins to reveal the truth about her strange patient.   It transpires that, before the attempt on his life, John Morlar was increasingly convinced that he had the ability to kill others through the power of his own will.  Zonfeld’s scepticism evaporates when Morlar gives her a demonstration of his demonic power.  On the threshold of death, the writer proves to be an even greater threat than anyone could have imagined...

In its day (the late 1970s), The Medusa Touch was the kind of fantasy thriller that was enormously popular in the UK.  Films such as The Omen (1976) had created an appetite for sinister pseudo-religious thrillers with Grand Guignol murders, implausible plots and deliciously over-the-top acting.  Thirty years on, such films have acquired a not altogether unattractive kitsch appeal, although no serious film buff would ever admit to having them in his DVD collection.  When once they terrified teenagers and sent shivers up the spines of most adults, they are now strangely entertaining, and The Medusa Touch is a case in point.

This Franco-British production stars Richard Burton, Lino Ventura and Lee Remick, a casting mix that was clearly more driven by marketing reasons than by the needs of the plot.  Closely identified with French crime thrillers since the 1950s, Lino Ventura isn’t a bad choice, but neither Burton nor Remick are anywhere as near as convincing – not that this really matters.  The characters in the film are so grotesque and crudely drawn that the subtle skill of even the greatest thespian would have been wasted.

Part of the appeal of The Medusa Touch is that it takes itself so desperately seriously when it’s so abundantly clear that it’s so utterly nonsensical.  A good example of this is the set piece action denouement near the end of the film.  The entire ruling elite of Great Britain is about to be crushed to death as a cathedral in visible need of repair comes tumbling down.  Even if the falling masonry wasn’t so obviously painted polystyrene the sequence would still be irresistibly funny.  It’s incredible to think that there was ever a time when the merciless pulverisation of the last vestiges of the British aristocracy could ever be considered anything other than entirely justifiable.  The only sequence in the film which has retained its shock factor is the one in which an airliner is directed into an apartment block, and that’s most probably because of the unavoidable resonance with a real similar disaster that took place in 2001.

For all its abundant faults, The Medusa Touch is film whose appeal has grown somewhat in recent years.  Like many films, it has undergone something of a perceived transformation as a result of changing tastes and audience sophistication.  It should no longer be classified along with the countless disaster movies that make the 1970s seem like the age of low-budget Armageddon.  Rather, it should now be regarded in the same light as The Avengers: an eccentric piece of escapist fun intended to brighten a dull winter’s evening.

© James Travers 2006

Write a review for this film...

What do you think of this film?