There are many theories as to why we culturally love the stories involving serial killers.
Some suggest that there’s a vicarious thrill in being able to witness the parade of evil from the comfort and safety of our living rooms or the movie theater. Others insist that each of us holds a secret desire to study the more dangerous side of human psychology, but we still prefer to do so from only a safe distance. Evolutions propose that it’s perfectly natural for anyone to study the world around him or her with the intent of identifying threats that are then best avoided. Of course, there’s no denying that we likely find some reassurance in the fact that the guilty parties are brought to justice, but because that doesn’t always happen in these narratives that notion might be fairly low on the list of prospects.
As a matter of fact, one of history’s greatest serial killers – England’s famed Jack The Ripper – has never been identified to the point wherein all forensics experts agree. Though there are a few suspects universally accepted to be the strongest possibilities, the singular butcher somehow managed to escape detection back then and across the decades; and there’s little chance we’ll ever know who truly enacted such a campaign of depravity. Still, countless books, TV shows, and movies continue to postulate solutions; so, let’s all decide that – at the very least – there’s still great value in keep this cold case open indefinitely.
Though 1959’s Jack The Ripper wasn’t the first theatrical interpretation on the mythology, it’s still credited as being the first to do so without obscuring some of the facts, figures, and frenzy with greater artistic license. Directed by Robert S. Baker and Monty Berman, the script shows credited to Jimmy Sangster, Peter Hammond, and Colin Craig. Amongst the cast were such names as Lee Patterson, Eddie Byrne, Betty McDowall, Ewen Solon, John Le Mesurier, and others. While imperfect, the result is still largely regarded as an effective retelling of the Ripper legend even if it takes those shortcuts necessary to have the picture compete alongside other Horror features of its day.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A serial killer is murdering women in the Whitechapel district of London. An American policeman is brought in to help Scotland Yard solve the case.”
Some suggest that there’s a vicarious thrill in being able to witness the parade of evil from the comfort and safety of our living rooms or the movie theater. Others insist that each of us holds a secret desire to study the more dangerous side of human psychology, but we still prefer to do so from only a safe distance. Evolutions propose that it’s perfectly natural for anyone to study the world around him or her with the intent of identifying threats that are then best avoided. Of course, there’s no denying that we likely find some reassurance in the fact that the guilty parties are brought to justice, but because that doesn’t always happen in these narratives that notion might be fairly low on the list of prospects.
As a matter of fact, one of history’s greatest serial killers – England’s famed Jack The Ripper – has never been identified to the point wherein all forensics experts agree. Though there are a few suspects universally accepted to be the strongest possibilities, the singular butcher somehow managed to escape detection back then and across the decades; and there’s little chance we’ll ever know who truly enacted such a campaign of depravity. Still, countless books, TV shows, and movies continue to postulate solutions; so, let’s all decide that – at the very least – there’s still great value in keep this cold case open indefinitely.
Though 1959’s Jack The Ripper wasn’t the first theatrical interpretation on the mythology, it’s still credited as being the first to do so without obscuring some of the facts, figures, and frenzy with greater artistic license. Directed by Robert S. Baker and Monty Berman, the script shows credited to Jimmy Sangster, Peter Hammond, and Colin Craig. Amongst the cast were such names as Lee Patterson, Eddie Byrne, Betty McDowall, Ewen Solon, John Le Mesurier, and others. While imperfect, the result is still largely regarded as an effective retelling of the Ripper legend even if it takes those shortcuts necessary to have the picture compete alongside other Horror features of its day.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A serial killer is murdering women in the Whitechapel district of London. An American policeman is brought in to help Scotland Yard solve the case.”
Confession time: I’ve never been one all that pleased when Hollywood types – or the general entertainment producers around the world – take creative liberties with historical accounts.
Longtime readers will notice that, yes, I have been known to nitpick. When films retool reality all for the purposes of creating greater melodrama for audiences, I’m apt to – ahem – point and laugh. (Apologies, but I’m just being true to myself.) My reason for this is that far too many casual viewers will watch a dramatized retelling of some moment from our past; and then they will accept this fictionalized account as the real deal. (Trust me: I’ve seen this happen plenty of times.) If you’re going to respect history, then you – as a storyteller – owe it to yourselves and society at large to strive for the greatest accuracy possible. Otherwise, just go out and create your own myth, leaving those of us who respect reality to be useful stewards of facts.
Now, this doesn’t mean in any way that I find no enjoyment in such melodramas. My position is that they have their time and place in entertainment but not education: trying to position a project as being fact-based when it’s everything but is a disservice to the audience and your chosen profession. However, if you can confirm at some point early in the procedural that you’re only using a particular myth as the jumping off point, then I’m more apt to enjoy the film as a kinda/sorta ‘jazz riff.’ Sure, it’s derivative, but you never claim in any way to be a curator of history. You’re a storyteller, and nothing else.
That’s where I think producer Joseph E. Levine did right by moviegoers with unleashing Jack The Ripper in theaters. Crafting the myth as a stand-alone Horror feature that was fully intended to compete on those merits very like guaranteed that no one buying a ticket expected Ripper to be a resuscitation of facts; instead, they showed up expecting the thrill ride as it was scripted to be, complete with the famed murderer’s identity revealed in the closing reel before he received justice by way of the universe and not at the hands of Scotland Yard. It was a grim demise, captured with a bit of technical wizardry that likely impresses even decade later.
Inspector O’Neill (played by Eddie Byrne) has been tasked with the unimaginable responsibility of bringing the nefarious Jack The Ripper to account for his grisly crimes, but every trail he follows leads nowhere. At the end of his wits, he even pairs up with a friend of his – an American detective on holiday in England – with hopes that a fresh pair of eyes on the slim pile of evidence might increase his chances. Together, O’Neill and Sam Lowry (Lee Patterson) respond to the newly discovered bodies, only to realize over and over again that the Ripper remains one step ahead of them all the way. It isn’t until the lovely Anne Ford (Betty McDowall) finds herself in a precarious position – trapped between the murderer and a locked door – that they finally get the break they’ve hoped for … if it only isn’t too late.
Stylistically, there really isn’t anything all that grand surrounding most of the film. While production design is respectable throughout, it grows increasingly clear that Baker and Berman’s intent to truly glorify the various ‘scenes of the crime’ was the greatest strength they had going for all of this. In that respect, the dimly-lit streets of Whitechapel became a character all their own, with long stretches of dark stones and tiny pools of light breaking through a pervasive mist. It’s exactly the kind of place wherein a killer could easily move about undetected, trafficking in the shadows and speaking only in a gravely voice, and they expertly bring to life a locale that’s as intricately tied to the legend as is the Ripper himself. They worked hard to bring these nightmares to life about as vividly as censors of the 1950’s would allow; and it’s these segments that give Jack its timeless, cult appeal.
Longtime readers will notice that, yes, I have been known to nitpick. When films retool reality all for the purposes of creating greater melodrama for audiences, I’m apt to – ahem – point and laugh. (Apologies, but I’m just being true to myself.) My reason for this is that far too many casual viewers will watch a dramatized retelling of some moment from our past; and then they will accept this fictionalized account as the real deal. (Trust me: I’ve seen this happen plenty of times.) If you’re going to respect history, then you – as a storyteller – owe it to yourselves and society at large to strive for the greatest accuracy possible. Otherwise, just go out and create your own myth, leaving those of us who respect reality to be useful stewards of facts.
Now, this doesn’t mean in any way that I find no enjoyment in such melodramas. My position is that they have their time and place in entertainment but not education: trying to position a project as being fact-based when it’s everything but is a disservice to the audience and your chosen profession. However, if you can confirm at some point early in the procedural that you’re only using a particular myth as the jumping off point, then I’m more apt to enjoy the film as a kinda/sorta ‘jazz riff.’ Sure, it’s derivative, but you never claim in any way to be a curator of history. You’re a storyteller, and nothing else.
That’s where I think producer Joseph E. Levine did right by moviegoers with unleashing Jack The Ripper in theaters. Crafting the myth as a stand-alone Horror feature that was fully intended to compete on those merits very like guaranteed that no one buying a ticket expected Ripper to be a resuscitation of facts; instead, they showed up expecting the thrill ride as it was scripted to be, complete with the famed murderer’s identity revealed in the closing reel before he received justice by way of the universe and not at the hands of Scotland Yard. It was a grim demise, captured with a bit of technical wizardry that likely impresses even decade later.
Inspector O’Neill (played by Eddie Byrne) has been tasked with the unimaginable responsibility of bringing the nefarious Jack The Ripper to account for his grisly crimes, but every trail he follows leads nowhere. At the end of his wits, he even pairs up with a friend of his – an American detective on holiday in England – with hopes that a fresh pair of eyes on the slim pile of evidence might increase his chances. Together, O’Neill and Sam Lowry (Lee Patterson) respond to the newly discovered bodies, only to realize over and over again that the Ripper remains one step ahead of them all the way. It isn’t until the lovely Anne Ford (Betty McDowall) finds herself in a precarious position – trapped between the murderer and a locked door – that they finally get the break they’ve hoped for … if it only isn’t too late.
Stylistically, there really isn’t anything all that grand surrounding most of the film. While production design is respectable throughout, it grows increasingly clear that Baker and Berman’s intent to truly glorify the various ‘scenes of the crime’ was the greatest strength they had going for all of this. In that respect, the dimly-lit streets of Whitechapel became a character all their own, with long stretches of dark stones and tiny pools of light breaking through a pervasive mist. It’s exactly the kind of place wherein a killer could easily move about undetected, trafficking in the shadows and speaking only in a gravely voice, and they expertly bring to life a locale that’s as intricately tied to the legend as is the Ripper himself. They worked hard to bring these nightmares to life about as vividly as censors of the 1950’s would allow; and it’s these segments that give Jack its timeless, cult appeal.
To a tiresome degree, the script tries a bit too hard to propose multiple suspects who just might be the one to have filled the Ripper’s streetwise shoes. There are a few physicians suggested – along with a curiously mute and deformed medical assistant – but these are somewhat obvious choices given the nature of the crimes, all reporting incisions done with “surgical precision.” You can almost see the color-by-numbers approach being taken along the way – each of them shows up with plenty of plausible reason to have been near the successive killings – and it would’ve been nice had the directors dialed some of that back, relying more on a bit of nuance. But when thrills are what drives a picture’s box office success, Baker and Berman relied a bit too formulaically on what they had, even though the flick isn’t acknowledged as being any runaway hit.
Jack The Ripper (1959) was produced by Mid Century Film Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Severin Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still attest that the provided sights and sounds – reported to have been remastered in 4K from a newly discovered internegative and fine grain protection print – are quite good. Mind you: there’s a great deal of grain in several scenes and sequences, but I’m quite certain any imperfections are owed to source materials. (Any bit of reading will underscore that this one was thought to have been lost to the ages until not all that long ago.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, congrats! You have some solid extras to experience, including two different cuts (a European and a U.S., mostly differentiated with some salacious nudity), a commentary track, a few short documentaries, and the usual tidbits (posters, still galleries, etc.) one comes to expect from a name like Severin. Well done.
Recommended.
While I’ll concede that – as a story – Jack The Ripper (1959) never achieves any measure of greatness visually or contextually, I still had an awful lot of fun with it. In fact, it is in many ways very is similar to 2001’s From Hell, the adaptation of the Alan Moore graphic novel directed by the Hughes Brothers. Baker and Berman’s cinematography is a bit predictable, but a good deal of it is salvaged – especially in the murderous moments – by some solid production details evoking the dank, dirty, and fog-shrouded streets of the Whitechapel District. Alas, the famed Ripper never gets the exposure he’s due (the script does name a guilty culprit a bit haphazardly, but the police and their investigation were about as useless as were the forensics experts of the day). Instead, he’s mostly reduced to little more than a ‘Creature Feature’ – a Victorian Freddy Krueger, if you will – but that works just fine for the limited landscape of this presentation.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Jack The Ripper (1959) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Jack The Ripper (1959) was produced by Mid Century Film Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Severin Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still attest that the provided sights and sounds – reported to have been remastered in 4K from a newly discovered internegative and fine grain protection print – are quite good. Mind you: there’s a great deal of grain in several scenes and sequences, but I’m quite certain any imperfections are owed to source materials. (Any bit of reading will underscore that this one was thought to have been lost to the ages until not all that long ago.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, congrats! You have some solid extras to experience, including two different cuts (a European and a U.S., mostly differentiated with some salacious nudity), a commentary track, a few short documentaries, and the usual tidbits (posters, still galleries, etc.) one comes to expect from a name like Severin. Well done.
Recommended.
While I’ll concede that – as a story – Jack The Ripper (1959) never achieves any measure of greatness visually or contextually, I still had an awful lot of fun with it. In fact, it is in many ways very is similar to 2001’s From Hell, the adaptation of the Alan Moore graphic novel directed by the Hughes Brothers. Baker and Berman’s cinematography is a bit predictable, but a good deal of it is salvaged – especially in the murderous moments – by some solid production details evoking the dank, dirty, and fog-shrouded streets of the Whitechapel District. Alas, the famed Ripper never gets the exposure he’s due (the script does name a guilty culprit a bit haphazardly, but the police and their investigation were about as useless as were the forensics experts of the day). Instead, he’s mostly reduced to little more than a ‘Creature Feature’ – a Victorian Freddy Krueger, if you will – but that works just fine for the limited landscape of this presentation.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Jack The Ripper (1959) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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