FANTASIA OBSCURA: The Surreal Satire Saved by a Pink Floyd Soundtrack
There are some fantasy, science fiction, and horror films that not every fan has caught. Not every film ever made has been seen by the audience that lives for such fare. Some of these deserve another look, because sometimes not every film should remain obscure.
Sometimes, you start out in less than ideal situations, like when the band you’re in starts playing different tunes…
The Committee (1968)
Distributed by: Craytic
Directed by: Peter Sykes
We all start somewhere.
The egg gives us the young life form inside it. The seed give us the plant it came from. The opening credits finally roll after what feels like 20 minutes of trailers…
…oh wait, that 20 minute figure is actually spot on…
And for director Peter Sykes, his career started with some interesting talent, in a film itself that itself doesn’t really go anywhere…
We open with a character identified as the “Central Figure” in the credits (Paul Jones of Manfred Mann fame) who we see is a hitchhiker picked up by a motorist (Tom Kempinski). The man driving the car goes on and on with inanities, which the hitchhiker tries to feign interest in, before the car stalls and the driver pulls over to the side.
While looking under the hood, the driver continues his (may as well be a) monologue, which bores the hitchhiker. Or drives him crazy; either way, he slams the hood of the car down hard enough to decapitate the man…
…though he thinks better of it after the fact and reattaches his head. After sewing it back on, the man seems oblivious to what happened to him, and the hitchhiker goes on his way.
Quick cut to somewhere important, which we can tell it is by its use of a computer, the punched card reader chugging along. There, a meeting is held, chaired by the Committee director (Robert Lloyd). He announces that he’s going to host a Committee for 300 people at the Lodge, one of five that need to be called over the next 10 days.
He states that “all the invitees have contrary imaginations,” which means… Well, we can table that one and move on, for now…
It ends up our Central Figure is invited to this Committee, and has to tell his boss (Jimmy Gardner) that he needs time off to attend. The boss is sympathetic, regaling him with his own time on a Committee, which mercifully get cut short as we move on to the titular affair.
We find out that the annoying driver is also at the conference. The Central Figure strikes up a conversation with him, but the driver acts as though he’d never seen him before. This seems to make the Central Figure more bothered than relieved, and it starts to weigh on him.
The only respite he (and the audience) get from these nagging feelings comes from a surprise performance by Arthur Brown:
Soon after this, the Central Figure meets the Committee director, and from there a conversation ensues. A long, drawn out conversation that has the two moving out of an office and walking around a deserted clock tower faster than you can say “You wake up in the Village”:
If you are worried about seeing this and thinking it’s out of context, relax: There really isn’t any. By the end of the day, the script by Sykes and Max Steur, who was also the producer for this, his only listed work, supposedly should have meant something, but it’s hard to say what. And we’re so removed from 1968 that whatever Sykes and Steur were alluding to as possible background, that’s long since gone.
Sykes, whose first job this was as a director, at least shows off his ability to set a scene and elicit a mood. This despite the above-mentioned nonsensical script, and Jones’ inability to stay in character (or even focused) in a number of crucial scenes that could have benefited from a more engaged actor. And if the only thing we’d remember this film for was being Sykes’ premiere (he’d go on to do some movies for Hammer Films and a good deal of television work) we’d have little reason to tarry here.
But what does keep us here, however, is its soundtrack…
By the end of January of 1968, Pink Floyd became a four man band, after the other members asked Syd Barrett to leave. Which proved to be a disappointment to Sykes, who had wanted to build what became The Committee around Barrett. Nonetheless, the reformed band got involved in the project, recording the score sometime during the making of A Saucerful of Secrets.
The tracks from the score carry the hallmarks of that period. Delving into instrumental experimentation performed in the wake of their main songwriter’s departure, the band tentatively moves towards their new direction as they got used to each other. It’s a fascinating look at the band during its effort to find itself:
We end up with a very early look at Pink Floyd’s experimentation during this time. We hear aspects of what the band would transform into by the end of the decade in these compositions. In fact, one track from the score ended up serving as a demo for a later Floyd song, “Careful With That Axe, Eugene.”
After this initial experience, Pink Floyd would continue to work with other directors on their films, including productive exercises with Barbet Schroeder and Michelangelo Antonioni, and the spectacular frustration of working with Alan Parker. Sykes’ first film, in contrast, did not go much further after its premiere. In fact, about the only distribution the film received outside of its limited theatrical release was as part of the Pink Floyd box set The Early Years: 1965-1972.
Had it not been for this, we would instead only remember games, daisy chains, and laughs…
NEXT TIME: I have to say yes to this film, because it gets me nowhere to tell it ‘no’…
