Whistle & I’ll Come to You
Dir. Jonathan Miller
‘Who is this who is coming?’
Based on the chilling ghost story (‘Oh Whistle and I’ll Come to You, My Lad’, first published in Ghost Stories of an Antiquary, 1905) by the master of ghost tales MR James, Whistle and I’ll Come to You was adapted by the BBC for their arts Omnibus series.
The story revolves around the cranky and rationally-minded Professor Parkins (Michael Hordern) as he travels to the Norfolk coast for a brief holiday from his academic work. Out on one of his many perambulations, Parkins discovers an old whistle half buried in the grounds of an ancient cemetery. Reading the titular inscription carved into the whistle, Parkins is able to translate the Latin verse and discovers it reads ‘Who is this who is coming?’ The professor dismisses it pompously and goes about his introverted daily routines of studying and hiking and further alienating himself from the other guests. Later that day though, as the light fades and the wind howls, Parkins hears a dreadful whistling coming from outside his bedroom window and dreams of being pursued by someone, or something, unseen.
The film devotes much of its brief running time to carefully establishing the character of the professor and all his bumbling pomposity. Awkwardness is rife as he starchily ‘interacts’ with the hotel staff and mumbles his way through a debate with a fellow guest, dismissing the other man’s arguments rudely while haughtily denying the possibility of the supernatural. It is testament to the focused performance of Hordern and all of the subtle little tics and nuances he conveys as Parkins, that the character retains our sympathy and interest, despite his arrogance.
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| ‘There are more things in philosophy than are dreamt of in heaven and earth.’ |
He is quite typical of many of the sternly rational, academic characters created by MR James. Scholarly men who exist in a world of reason, rationality and skepticism who experience something strange that has no logical explanation; jolting them out of the comfort of their bookish existences and into a world that seems to balance precariously on the brink of some vast unknown. Director Jonathan Miller perfectly captures the quietness and stillness that exists within the stories of MR James. Horrors are suggested and fleetingly glimpsed; they hover creepily on the periphery of our waking world, but the impact they have is undeniable. The film retains a bleak atmosphere, saturated with solemn dread and steadily cranks up a consistent foreboding terror…
The stiffness of Parkins and the stifling confinement of the upper middle-class social conventions of the time are beautifully conveyed in a scene where Parkins joins the other guests for dinner. Clad in full evening wear, he hovers uncertainly in the hallway before entering the dining room and self-consciously sitting by himself. His presence is enough to plunge the other guests into awkward silence. The social inadequacies of Parkins, who is unable to interact with people outside of dense academic and philosophical discussions, renders him something of an awkward outcast. His solitude, coupled with the crisp black and white photography of deserted beaches and bleak, windswept landscapes, makes for somber viewing. The tension never lets up and the feeling that this tale will not end well is simply unshakable.
Unsettling and supremely creepy images pepper the film and everything hangs heavy under an air of dread and sadness. As Parkins makes his way back to the hotel from the beach, we can make out a mysterious figure standing ominously behind him further down the beach.
One of the most disturbing scenes occurs as Parkins sleeps restlessly after bringing home the whistle he finds on his walk: he dreams of running along the deserted beach away from ‘something’, while behind him, further down the beach, a shapeless, flapping mass hauntingly floats after him. There is something about this spectral image that implies so much threat and anxiety that it sears into the brain, lingering for days after viewing.
Another standout scene occurs when the now completely uneasy and panicked professor attempts to sleep after having another nightmare. Sensing something unshakably unnerving, the professor glances across his hotel room from his bed, to the spare bed, and what he sees finally succeeds in pushing his already brittle mental state completely over the edge and into the abyss of madness… The sound design in this moment is also noteworthy. It provides the film with one of its most enduring and unsettling shocks. The ambiguity of the film is one of its many strengths. We are never certain if these sinister encounters are brought on by genuinely supernatural occurrences, or if Parkins is simply experiencing something of a mental breakdown due to being alone for so long and having no human interaction. Either way, the end result is one of the most uneasy and disquieting ghost stories ever filmed.
The stiffness of Parkins and the stifling confinement of the upper middle-class social conventions of the time are beautifully conveyed in a scene where Parkins joins the other guests for dinner. Clad in full evening wear, he hovers uncertainly in the hallway before entering the dining room and self-consciously sitting by himself. His presence is enough to plunge the other guests into awkward silence. The social inadequacies of Parkins, who is unable to interact with people outside of dense academic and philosophical discussions, renders him something of an awkward outcast. His solitude, coupled with the crisp black and white photography of deserted beaches and bleak, windswept landscapes, makes for somber viewing. The tension never lets up and the feeling that this tale will not end well is simply unshakable.
Unsettling and supremely creepy images pepper the film and everything hangs heavy under an air of dread and sadness. As Parkins makes his way back to the hotel from the beach, we can make out a mysterious figure standing ominously behind him further down the beach.
One of the most disturbing scenes occurs as Parkins sleeps restlessly after bringing home the whistle he finds on his walk: he dreams of running along the deserted beach away from ‘something’, while behind him, further down the beach, a shapeless, flapping mass hauntingly floats after him. There is something about this spectral image that implies so much threat and anxiety that it sears into the brain, lingering for days after viewing.
Another standout scene occurs when the now completely uneasy and panicked professor attempts to sleep after having another nightmare. Sensing something unshakably unnerving, the professor glances across his hotel room from his bed, to the spare bed, and what he sees finally succeeds in pushing his already brittle mental state completely over the edge and into the abyss of madness… The sound design in this moment is also noteworthy. It provides the film with one of its most enduring and unsettling shocks. The ambiguity of the film is one of its many strengths. We are never certain if these sinister encounters are brought on by genuinely supernatural occurrences, or if Parkins is simply experiencing something of a mental breakdown due to being alone for so long and having no human interaction. Either way, the end result is one of the most uneasy and disquieting ghost stories ever filmed.
