Review for The Medusa Touch

The Medusa Touch is a 1978 British supernatural thriller film directed by Jack Gold, boasting a cast which really seems to punch above its budgetry weight. But then that was the plan.

Richard Burton was at the struggling end of his career, battling (successfully at this point) his own personal demons with alcoholism. The budget only stretched to very limited shooting time with the great man and, as a result, he’s heavily covered in bandages for his hospital sequences (because it wasn't him) other than a shot when his very distinctive, green eyes suddenly open.

But he’s superb in the role. One suspects that it wasn’t a huge leap for him to play the part of a man haunted by his own demons, with a very cynical view of the world. He’s certainly very convincing at it. Lee Remick is featured too – utterly beautiful at this stage in her career and yet believable as a highly academic psychiatrist. But perhaps best of all, and as the result of an inspired if left-of-field bit of casting, is Lino Ventura as the tireless, philosophising French detective Brunel.Two thirds Hercule Poirot and one third Mafiosi. It also features a young Harry Andrews as a cheery side-kick and some excellent cameos from Alan Badel, Derek Jacobi, Gordon Jackson, and a devilishly handsome young Jeremy Brett in his pre-Holmes days.

Although the screenplay was expertly penned by John Briley, it was based on the novel by the same name by Peter Van Greenaway. Brunel, a French detective on an exchange scheme in London, is assigned to investigate the murder of novelist John Morlar (Richard Burton) who has been attacked in his own home and bludgeoned to death whilst watching television. We know that because we see it happen though we don’t see who did it. At least not until the end of the movie. But by then we know why. Though I’m getting ahead of myself.

As they examine the crime scene, Brunel discovers the victim is still alive in spite of his severe injuries and has him rushed to hospital. With the help of Morlar's journals and Dr. Zonfeld (Remick), a psychiatrist Morlar was seeing, Brunel reconstructs Morlar's past life. Seen in flashback, it is filled with inexplicable catastrophes and the sudden deaths of people he disliked or who offended him.


Morlar is a psychic with powerful telekinetic abilities. Disgusted at the world, Morlar has caused two recent disasters: an airliner crash into a London office tower and the loss of a manned spacecraft.

From his hospital bed, he manages to bring down a cathedral on the "unworthy heads" of a VIP congregation attending a fund raising event for the crumbling building's restoration. Morlar seems able to keep himself alive by sheer willpower. As an enraged Brunel tries to kill Morlar to end the destruction Morlar writes on a pad the name of his next target: the nuclear power station at Windscale.

It’s a nice enough looking film, and looking better than ever on this Blu-Ray. (I particularly enjoyed the Bristol Cathedral interiors as I had just been to an engagement there myself, although in the film we’re told it’s Minster Cathedral).

Although it has a supernatural vibe, it doesn’t really veer too much into ‘Omen’-like territory. It’s less to do with the malevolence of the devil or such-like, and much more to do with the science of tele-kinesis.

The set comes with some decent extra features including a fun commentary on it featuring director Jack Gold, Kim Newman (clearly a great fan of the film) and Stephen Jones.

There is some commentary-free ‘home movie’ footage entitled ‘Destroying the Abbey’ filmed inside Bristol Cathedral which is sort of interesting in that it reflects the enormity of filming such a scene – as well as how dull it must have been to be one of the extras waiting for something to happen!
You also get a trailer and an image gallery and a booklet (which I haven’t seen so can’t comment on) by film-critic (and fan of the movie) Kim Newman.

A great copy of a good movie and well worth picking up.