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In this especially dark-hearted, criminally unappreciated, Australian made-for-TV chiller we see rakishly handsome, upwardly mobile architect John Hersey (George Lazenby) get all 'touchy-feely' with his deliciously touchable mistress, Marianne Dickson (Wendy Hughes) mere hours before dutifully picking up his no less handsome wife (Tina Greville) from the bucolic rest home wherein she had been slowly recuperating from a rather severe nervous breakdown.
As oft happens, while the cat's away, the errant mouse doth enthusiastically play, and moustachioed dreamboat Lazenby made the most of his poor wife's absence, keeping his loins busy with a goodly number of lustily enjoyed extra marital nookie, while finalizing the final niggling details concerning the spankingly new tower block he and his wife plan on moving into. But once inside this modern penthouse apartment, the ostensibly deserted building proves to be anything but empty, and the increasingly inhospitable sounds and eerie events provide a far from welcome homecoming for the fragile Kate.
With a delightfully clever, frequently mischievous script by wicked wordsmith Bruce A. Wishart, which positively seethes with darkly broiling passions, morbidly fermenting secrets and foul-hearted duplicity, the gripping, ceaselessly tense, twisty-turny, Tales of the Unexpected-style plot has an embarrassment of creepy riches for the more discerning thriller fan to enjoy. Outside of the inventive, air-tight plot, the performances are never less than enthralling, with the increasingly frantic exchanges between Kate and her rival Marianne being especially fascinating.
Peter Maxwell's compelling 'Is There Anybody There?' remains quite the joyous discovery, an immersive, extraordinarily well-written 1970s TV play that is no less thrilling when seen today, and presciently, the empty tower block remains a powerful suburban motif of human estrangement, and especially effective is a sublime shot of the myriad, ominously dark windows starkly highlighted by the single row of lights at the very top, plus the ferociously funky, organic score by talented composer Bob Young demands to be released on CD, since it is so uncommonly groovy and musically menacing!
As oft happens, while the cat's away, the errant mouse doth enthusiastically play, and moustachioed dreamboat Lazenby made the most of his poor wife's absence, keeping his loins busy with a goodly number of lustily enjoyed extra marital nookie, while finalizing the final niggling details concerning the spankingly new tower block he and his wife plan on moving into. But once inside this modern penthouse apartment, the ostensibly deserted building proves to be anything but empty, and the increasingly inhospitable sounds and eerie events provide a far from welcome homecoming for the fragile Kate.
With a delightfully clever, frequently mischievous script by wicked wordsmith Bruce A. Wishart, which positively seethes with darkly broiling passions, morbidly fermenting secrets and foul-hearted duplicity, the gripping, ceaselessly tense, twisty-turny, Tales of the Unexpected-style plot has an embarrassment of creepy riches for the more discerning thriller fan to enjoy. Outside of the inventive, air-tight plot, the performances are never less than enthralling, with the increasingly frantic exchanges between Kate and her rival Marianne being especially fascinating.
Peter Maxwell's compelling 'Is There Anybody There?' remains quite the joyous discovery, an immersive, extraordinarily well-written 1970s TV play that is no less thrilling when seen today, and presciently, the empty tower block remains a powerful suburban motif of human estrangement, and especially effective is a sublime shot of the myriad, ominously dark windows starkly highlighted by the single row of lights at the very top, plus the ferociously funky, organic score by talented composer Bob Young demands to be released on CD, since it is so uncommonly groovy and musically menacing!