‘Experiment in Terror’ Blu-ray (review)

Sony Pictures

For most of my life, I have associated the name of Blake Edwards with comedies, and with Julie Andrews. 1962’s Experiment in Terror is most definitely not a comedy, and there’s no Julie to be seen anywhere.

In point of fact, while I probably paid zero attention to his name, the first time I ever saw anything by Blake Edwards would have been Peter Gunn, the uber-stylish detective show that was on TV when I was two-years-old, to say nothing of in syndicated reruns for years afterward.

Peter Gunn is remembered for its jazzy theme and score, created by composer/conductor Henry Mancini. Blake and Mancini were a winning combination so they wisely joined forces for numerous titles over the years, including Breakfast at Tiffany’s, The Days of Wine and Roses, and, of course, The Pink Panther franchise. Mancini’s “Pink Panther theme” is arguably the most memorable theme music of all time.

Mancini did the memorable music for Blake Edwards’ Experiment in Terror, too. I’m on record as saying I rarely notice a film’s score unless it’s widely inappropriate or particularly memorable. This one is the latter.

Edwards both produced and directed Experiment in Terror and it is a sadly forgotten gem of a movie. Glenn Ford, one of the great movie heroes, is his usual stalwart self here playing a by the book FBI agent previously played by Broderick Crawford in an earlier film.

Lee Remick is wonderful and stunningly beautiful as the stalked and harassed woman forced by a killer to rob the bank where she works or risk having her kid sister molested and/or killed.

The sister is played by Stefanie Powers, all of 19 in real-life and playing maybe 17. She’s age-appropriate perky and bubbly most of the time but shows genuine fear and horror when she’s held by the killer.

That killer is Ross Martin, best remembered for his role as the often-disguised Artemus Gordon on the campy secret agent western, The Wild, Wild, West. He’s disguised here in one scene, too. His sweaty, asthmatic performance gives genuine chills even today.

Experiment in Terror was shot on location in picturesque San Francisco. The film opens with cars driving back and forth across the Golden Gate Bridge at dusk to Mancini’s theme. The hills, the city streets, the houses, Candlestick Park, and even the vintage (then-modern) cars all add to the realistic feel of the plot.

Mousy character actor Ned Glass plays a charmingly amoral stool pigeon called Popcorn because he’s always at the movies when he reports to the local police captain for cash.

That local police captain is played almost surprisingly straight by Clifton James, who made a career out of playing exaggerated versions of similar characters in many films, including two James Bond outings with Roger Moore.

Stepping back from the story itself a bit, one can spot a number of weird analogies to much later director David Lynch and his films. Among others, these include the killer being named Lynch and a neighborhood called Twin Peaks, complete with sign.

It’s a terrible title, Experiment in Terror. Not that I have a better one off-hand, but I suspect the picture would have done better and been better-remembered today had they gone with a different title. Oh, there’s definite terror involved, but not really any experiment.

Experiment in Terror came out on the heels of Hitchcock’s Psycho and, contextually, the blonde and the cross-dressing killer certainly remind the viewer of Psycho.

If anything, Experiment in Terror’s stark, shadow-filled black-and-white photography is even better. In fact, despite a couple of minor issues I had with the plot, the picture works on every level as pure, solid, blood-rushing entertainment and as a brilliant early artistic triumph from Blake Edwards, who had many years of success—and Julie Andrews—still ahead of him.

Booksteve recommends.