We tend to view Anthony Hopkins as the bold game-changer when he switched from respectable upmarket leading man to Hannibal the Erudite Cannibal in The Silence of the Lambs, paving the way for a plethora of other stars to throw off the shackles of their screen personas. But, in fact, it was another Englishman, Richard Attenborough, equally well-known for exuding principle (and raffish charm when playing a con man in Only When I Larf, 1968), who broke that particular mold.
At the time, the impetus for the picture was the miscarriage of justice which saw innocent Timothy Evans hanged for the crimes of serial killer John Christie, a name that belongs in the British murderer premier league along with the likes of Dr Crippen and Jack the Ripper. The Ludovic Kennedy book on which the film was based was by now a decade old, but it had taken that long for the British censor to clear the subject for filming and to find a star who was not already a well-known screen villain and prevent the film tipping over into sensationalism.
So although Timothy Evans (John Hurt) is the unwitting dupe, the focus is more on the cunning of the killer Christie (Richard Attenborough) who manipulates the class system. Nobody would contemplate the notion of a well-spoken upright middle-class war hero being capable of the lurid killings. And the idea of repeat victims in a Britain still rejoicing in its notions of “fair play” was equally abhorrent.
So while we don’t quite get to the nub of why Christie was so obsessed with murder, he remains a fascinating character rather than a demonic villain. And this is grubby, not tourist, post-War London where poverty is endemic and workshy ill-educated rogues are apt to be taken advantage of and easily caught.
That Christie evaded suspicion, never mind capture, for so long – his crime spree began during the London Blitz of the Second World War – was a credit to his presentation of himself as much as police disinterest or ineptitude and public disbelief at the scale of the killings. That Christie remained free for so long was because Evans was such an idiot, caught out in countless lies and eventually confessing to the crimes. You can see the connection between Christie and Hannibal Lecter (in his control of fellow prisoners) in the hold they have over the less well-educated and easily-led.
Christie, literally, got away with murder simply because, to police eyes, Evans was a more obvious villain. The narrative obscures the worst part of his tendencies, implied necrophilia and sex with unconscious women. In another life he might well have been presented as the down-on- his-luck old codger who only required a break to right himself.
The wonder of Attenborough’s performance is that he doesn’t exude menace. Even as he’s trapping victims he comes over as trustworthy. His creepiness only grows on the audience once they are invited to see the part of him that his victims do not.
It’s a testament to Attenborough’s conviction in the part that you never notice how much he loathes the character. He only took on the role as part of a campaign to prevent the return of capital punishment. Critics clearly disapproved and their plaudits were reserved for John Hurt (Sinful Davey, 1969) in the more showy role. These days, thanks to Hannibal Lecter, audiences are more inclined to be more considerate towards actors playing irredeemable characters.
Director Richard Fleischer had been here twice before with Compulsion (1959) and The Boston Strangler (1968) and to his credit that he approached it in a low-key fashion eschewing the verbal gymnastics of Orson Welles of the former and the false nose of Tony Curtis and split screen of the latter. John Hurt is excellent and Judy Geeson (Three into Two Won’t Go, 1969) has a small part.
Most films about serial killers at this point in sub-genre’s history tended to follow an investigation or a courtroom drama – Psycho (1960) while initially focusing on victim and thence the killer quickly turned into an investigation. But this is primarily concerned with the actions of the murderer, who unravels as the movie proceeds, and is brought to justice when the general finger of suspicion, rather than the result of a detailed investigation, points to him.
Richard Attenborough created the template for the outwardly-respectable killer. Interestingly, Attenborough had previously played the more typical killer, the immediately loathsome gang-leader Pinkie in Brighton Rock (1948). Written by Clive Exton (Isadora, 1968).
Well worth it to soak up the creepiness that gently begins to subsume the character.
The Magnificent 60s 
Some info:
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The opening credits are preceded by the written statement: “This is a true story. Whenever possible the dialogue has been based on official documents.” The film ends with the still image of Richard Attenborough’s face, as “John Reginald Christie,” with the following titles superimposed over it: “Christie confessed his crimes and was hanged at Pentonville Prison. Twelve years later Timothy John Evans was pardoned, his body exhumed and reburied in consecrated ground.” As noted onscreen, the film was shot at Rillington Place and at the Lee International Studios and Shepperton Studios in London. In addition, press notes state that many scenes were shot on location in the Notting Hill neighborhood of London. The NYT review mistakenly lists the film’s running time as 139 minutes and LAT as 119 minutes.
As noted in historical sources, Christie (1898–1953) was abused as a child and later in life reportedly suffered from sexual dysfunction and experienced sexual pleasure from raping women and then strangling them. The film closely mirrors real-life events. After already having murdered several women, in 1949 Christie took on Timothy John Evans and his wife Beryl as tenants at his home at 10 Rillington Place, London. Soon after, Beryl gave birth to their daughter Geraldine. Christie raped and murdered Beryl under the pretense of helping her abort her second pregnancy, then blamed the murder on Evans, who was sentenced to hang on 9 Mar 1950. After Evans was executed, Christie killed four more women, including his wife. After he left 10 Rillington Place, the bodies of his victims were discovered buried throughout the property, and Christie was found guilty of killing his wife. He was hanged in 1953.
Some facts from the real-life case, and details from the best-selling novel based on Christie’s life, were not included in the film. Some reviews pointed out that Evans’ limited mental capabilities were not depicted, nor was the fact that the trial disallowed evidence that Beryl had been raped after her death as well as the workmen’s testimony that the bodies were not hidden in the washhouse while they were there working. In addition, the film suggests that Evans was convicted of several murders while, in fact, he was convicted only of Geraldine’s murder.
Although Christie never confessed to the killings of Beryl or Geraldine, and no definitive evidence exists to his guilt, the public presumed him culpable, and his conviction years after Evans’ death spurred an outcry against capital punishment in Great Britain. In 1961 journalist Ludovic Kennedy wrote Ten Rillington Place, a biography of Christie, as a plea for reform. According to contemporary sources, the case and Kennedy’s book contributed to the 1964 decision to abolish capital punishment in Britain. Evans was granted his posthumous pardon in 1966.
In Jun 1962, as noted in HR, producers Elliott Kastner and Stan Shpetner bought the film rights to Kennedy’s novel. In Mar 1968, Shpetner’s Forest Park Productions announced in DV that they would team with William Dozier’s Greenway Productions and CBS Films to produce the film version of the book. They hoped to star James Mason and Dirk Bogarde, with Joseph Losey directing. Dozier would serve as executive producer and Shpetner as producer. DV noted on 22 Aug 1968 that the producers had signed Sean Graham to write the screenplay.
By Mar 1970, however, FD stated that Filmways would produce 10 Rillington Place as a Columbia release. Although Columbia’s European production chief, John Van Eyssen, and Filmways head Martin Ransohoff announced in a Mar 1970 HR news item that Basil Appleby would serve as executive producer, he is listed onscreen as associate producer. Director Richard Fleischer stated in a Jun 1970 HCN article that he had wanted to make the picture for years, but was prohibited by a British law requiring fifty years to pass before a real-life murder could be shown onscreen. The law, however, was changed to thirty years shortly before the production began.
Press notes and contemporary articles reported that the film renewed interest in the case and in the location of Rillington Place, by then renamed Ruston Close. A Jun 1970 HCN article described the area as “like a vacation resort,” frequented by tourist buses and squatters. The press notes indicate that because filming could not take place at the actual building, most scenes were shot at the house next door. In 1970, the street was demolished and rebuilt as Bartle Road.
Press notes state that the production hired as technical advisors Albert Pierrepoint, the man who hanged Evans and Christie; police constable Ledger, the man who arrested Christie; and John Nutting, a London criminal lawyer. Although Filmfacts includes Bernard Lee in the cast as “Chief Inspector,” according to the BFI index, this role was cut from the finished film.
Despite receiving excellent reviews for his portrayal of Christie, Attenborough stated in press notes that he disliked playing the role and accepted it only because the film was such a devastating statement against capital punishment. The Sunday Times (London) review stated that British response to the film was bound to be painful, as “the memory of the execution of poor trapped Evans is still too fresh.”
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Brilliant. Thanks.
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