Hands of the Ripper (1971)
Directed by Peter Sasdy

Film Review

Once the realisation had hit home that the public had had its fill of Gothic horror and there wasn't must mileage left in the genre, Hammer's reaction was to suddenly (and somewhat belatedly) diversify into other areas of horror, aware that strong competition was heading its way from across the pond.  The early 1970s was arguably Hammer's most creative period, a new intake of talented young writers and directors feeding the company's need to move with the times and give the low budget horror movie a new lease of life.  One of the more daring and innovative of these newcomers was the Hungarian born filmmaker Peter Sasdy, whose art house spectaculars Taste the Blood of Dracula (1969) and Countess Dracula (1971), gave the studio's run of vampire films a badly needed shot in the arm just when it was starting to become an embarrassment.

Sasdy's third feature for Hammer is far less well-known but it is assuredly his best work for the company, if not one of the best horror films Hammer made in its declining years.  Hands of the Ripper is a lush period piece which appeals as much to the eye as it does to the intellect, with enough buckets of gore and full-on slasher nastiness to satisfy the more primal appetites of Hammer's less artistically minded clientele.  It makes the perfect companion-piece to Hammer's Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde (1971), both being intelligently scripted films inspired by the Jack the Ripper case, set in a London of the late Victorian era that we at once recognise from the tales of Sherlock Holmes.  Both films serve up plenty of gory shocks, but whereas Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde opts for a distinctly comedic slant, Hands of the Ripper plays it deadly seriously, as grim as the grimmest of Jacobean tragedies.

That this is a superior Hammer horror offering is evident as much from its prestigious cast as it is from its astonishing production values.  Eric Porter takes the role that would ordinarily have gone to Peter Cushing, the well-meaning scientist who believes he can cure a killer's daughter of her condition by kindness and understanding.  Porter was famous at the time for his role in the television serial The Forsyte Saga (1967), a starchy Victorian who acquires his humanity through a succession of misfortunes.  His character in Hands of the Ripper follows a similar trajectory, albeit one that is nearer to Grand Guignol than drawing room melodrama, and one of the reasons why the film works so well is because Dr Pritchard is someone we can readily relate to, a flawed human being who is brought down by his own bloody-minded munificence.

And then there's the stunning Angharad Rees, remarkable in one of her first screen roles as the seemingly possessed Anna.  Rees would later become familiar to British audiences as Demelza in the television series Poldark (1975-1977) but here her star potential is already apparent, a picture of divine innocence in some scenes, a demonic fury in others.  Jane Merrow, Keith Bell and Derek Godfrey add further lustre to the production, their characters having far more depth than you might expect in a Hammer horror film, and there's some fun to be had from Dora Bryan and Lynda Baron's presence before they each meet an unspeakably grisly end.

Even the most devoted admirers of Hammer's horror films would be hard pressed to suggest many that can genuinely be described as great works of cinema.  Hands of the Ripper is one of just a handful that merit this generous epithet, not just because of its sumptuous visuals and arresting performances, but because it also makes the effort to tell an emotionally rewarding good-versus-evil story that does more than just titillate.  The final sequence set in the Whispering Gallery of St Paul's Cathedral is perhaps the most beautiful of any Hammer horror, one that provides a breathtakingly elegant conclusion to one of the most stylish British genre films of the decade.

Film Synopsis

Anna is no more than a toddler when she witnesses her mother's savage death at the hands of her father, who is none other than the notorious serial killer Jack the Ripper.  Fifteen years on, she is in the dubious care of Mrs Golding, a charlatan spiritualist who sells her services as a prostitute.  After hosting a séance, Mrs Golding is murdered by Anna, the only witness to the killing being Mr Dysart, an ambitious member of parliament.  Rather than hand over Anna to the authorities, Dr John Pritchard, a progressive scientist, insists she should stay with him at his home, so that he can study and perhaps cure her of her homicidal tendencies.  Convinced that the key to understanding Anna's behaviour lies in her past, Pritchard asks Dysart to look into her background and is shocked to learn that she is Jack the Ripper's daughter.  Under the influence of her long dead father, Anna is forced to kill again...