The Man Who Had Power Over Women – Indicator

Director: John Krish
Writers: Chris Bryant, Allan Scott (screenplay) Gordon Williams (Novel)
Starring: ‎Rod Taylor, Carol White, James Booth, Clive Francis 
Year: 1970
Duration: 89 mins
BBFC Certification: 15

John Krish is certainly a director who boasts a rather varied and eclectic filmography. Primarily a documentarian who made numerous films for the army, he is most renowned for 1959’s Captured, a harrowing look at prisoner interrogation (be sure to check out the BFI flip side release) and 1963’s Unearthly Stranger, a unique British sci-fi that has now gone on to be a bit of a cult classic. Krish even directed some episodes of 60s TV smash The Avengers. For a director who was able to work in a wide range of genres, it should come as little surprise to find The Man Who Had Power Over Women nestled among his films, a bold and brash Sixties drama that shows that Krish was just as skilled at capturing the dying embers of swinging sixties London as he was at depicting mysterious alien invaders or disturbing interrogation techniques.

Based upon the book by Gordon Williams (who also wrote the original novel for Straw Dogs) The Man Who Had Power Over Women was adapted by the writing duo of Chris Bryant and Allan Scott (displaying just as much genre dexterity as Krish himself, they later went on to write the script for Don’t Look Now). The story focuses on Peter Reaney (Rod Taylor) a successful talent agent who is living the high life in late sixties London – essentially meaning that, apart from looking after his clients, Reaney spends his time getting drunk and sleeping around.

Eventually, however, this caviller lifestyle proves to be too much for Reaney’s wife Angela (Penelope Horner) who decides to up and leave him. Yet this is only the beginning of Peter’s troubles. He finds out that his star client, the pop star Barry Black (Clive Francis) has gotten a young girl pregnant. When Peter’s agency want to solve this problem simply by paying for a back street abortionist, he is thrown into a moral crisis that makes him question his entire lifestyle…and the only person that seems to offer him any salvation is Jody (Carole White), his best friend’s wife…

The problem with The Man Who Had Power Over Women lies with Peter himself. Arrogant and selfish, he is deeply unlikeable from the get go, with Rod Taylor taking a particular delight in magnifying all the character’s worst qualities. Make no mistake, Peter Reaney is the kind of man who happily goes out drinking and sleeping around, then gets confused and affronted when his wife decides to leave him; not that this bothers Peter all that much. He carries on drinking and sleeping around, even letting his eyes turn towards his best friend’s wife without a moment’s hesitation.

The further problem is how much does the film judge him for this behaviour? Not at all seems to be the simple answer. The central character, and therefore the film’s, moral quandary seems entirely focused on how Barry Black’s young lover is treated, not with Peter’s lifestyle or moral compass when it comes to other woman. Of course the film is a product of it’s time, so Peter’s behaviour could possibly have been far more permissible to a contemporary audience and therefore more forgivable and understandable. Yet watching the film today, it is hard to find much sympathy in Peter’s misogyny, nor in the film’s hypocritical hand wringing over the teenage girl’s abortion.

Yet this doesn’t mean that The Man Who Had Power Over Women should be written off entirely. Krish utilises his background in documentaries to give the film a rich authenticity and depth, with the scenes focusing around Barry Black, either performing a concert during the film’s opening credits, or during a recording session, frequently striking a great note. The decor, mood and fashions of late sixties London have also been richly captured.

Dialogue too feels natural and authentic, Krish ensuring that, while you may not like everything that comes out of the character’s mouths, it never feels stilted or forced. This is due in part, of course, to the quality of the performances. Taylor provides a commanding and charismatic screen presence (who seemed to be living just a recklessly off camera as on) while Clive Francis almost steals the show as the smugly preening Barry Black, whose repulsive arrogance and self indulgence feels all too depressingly real. The heart of the film, however, quite possibly belongs to Carol White, who shot to fame a few years before The Man Who Had Power Over Women through leading roles in two seminal Ken Loach dramas, Cathy Come Home and Poor Cow. Positioned by the industry as another Julie Christie, White was at the height of her fame here, delivering a tender, powerful performance that stands in stark contrast against the bulldozing actions of the men surrounding her. Watching White here, it feels all the more tragic to know that her career would soon be derailed by drink and drug addiction.

Overall then, The Man Who Had Power Over Women is a rather hard film to place. One the one hand, it is skilfully directed, with an authentic sense of time and place, embellished both by engaging performances and some strikingly effective dramatic moments. Yet it is hampered by a deeply unlikeable main character and a blind adherence to the sexual politics of its era. If you can look past these factors, however, you’’ll find an interesting curio that stands as both a tribute and condemnation of the time in which it was made.

The Man Who Had Power Over Women is being released via Powerhouse Film’s on their Indicator label. This release marks a first for Powerhouse, with The Man Who Had Power Over Women being a website exclusive – meaning you won’t be able to pick it up anywhere else. In one sense, the film feels rather fitting as Indicator’s first choice for this experimental release, fitting right in their wheelhouse of shining a light on lost, esoteric British films. The Blu Ray has been struck from a 4K restoration and looks great throughout, with an authentic film-like picture. I found that the original mono audio, however, was slightly hard to decipher at times.

There are only a few extras on the disc, but each is worthy of your time. The real star here is the feature length BEHP interview with John Krish. Spliced together from several interviews conducted in 1994, the 90 minute interview plays out over the course of the main feature. While Krish only devotes 15 minutes or so talking about The Man Who Had Power Over Women, the wide ranging interview, which covers his entire career, proves to be a fascinating and candid listen, with Krish proving to be a entertaining raconteur who takes a pragmatic and at times rather solemn look at his career and life.

Indicator also offer a short, 10 minute interview with the film’s co-writer Allan Scott, who offers a few brief reminisces about the film and his career. Scott is engaging and entertaining, so this is well worth a watch.

The disc is rounded out with two documentaries made by Krish. The first, a sort of public information film made for the army, is a thoroughly entertaining crime procedural about a tuck shop robbery in an army barracks. Its 43 minutes fly past under Krish’s lean and efficient direction. It also features amusing cameos from Wilford Bramble as well as Jim Dale from the Carry On films.

The other documentary takes on a far more serious subject matter, focusing on Apartheid in South Africa. Simple, yet powerful, both documentaries prove to show just how versatile and talented a director John Krish was – it just seems a shame that, apart from Unearthly Stranger perhaps, he never managed to successfully deploy those talents effectively in a feature film.

Indicator also include a 40 page booklet with the disc, which includes a great new essay on the film from Vic Pratt, who highlights the film’s contradictions and oddities, as well as contemporary interviews with Taylor and Krish. They also include some welcome writing on the two documentaries that are included on the disc.