In camera

Peeping Tom the film that destroyed the career of respected British Director, Michael Powell, was compulsory viewing in our film course at Uni. This image instantly transports me back to the icy cold projector room of the journ department at Rhodes. Our breath solidifying before our us, we huddled together for warmth while creepy Carl Boehm roamed the seedy underbelly of Sixties Soho (can I say 'Boehm roamed'? guess I just did) The subjects of his perverted desires? Disfigured prostitutes. His depraved quest? To capture on film the purest moment of abject fear as his victim realised they were about to be skewered on one of the sharpened legs of his tripod (no Spencer, not that tripod, though no doubt the comparison was intentional) Perhaps it was the combination of sub-zero tempratures and smuggled-in Tassenburg Red, but this film scared the living shies out of us. So now I go and take this weird picture and it all comes flooding back, aaaaaaahh, I hate Tassies!

B