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I Start Counting (1969)

Dir: David Greene

Wynne (Jenny Agutter), an adopted schoolgirl has a growing crush on her older foster brother George (Bryan Marshall). A crush that grows stronger and more controlling each day.

At the same time a series of local sex attacks on young women is haunting the town and becomes the leading gossip in Wynne’s school.
When Wynne’s obsession with George means she inadvertently finds out mysterious things about hi, a blooded jumper and unexplained trips out in the evening, Wynne suspects that George could be the killer.

Her best friend Corrine (Clare Sutcliffe) is more outgoing than Wynne and takes delight in flirting with even older means proclaiming her supposed sexual experience, something that makes Wynne even more determined to not only make an explicit advance on George but also determines her decision to cover up for her love even if he is the killer….

Welcome to the world of dusty, long forgotten, stuck at the back of the highest shelf, British flicks that pushed new boundaries in content and subject but got lost in the shuffle between ‘Hammer’, ‘Amicus’, ‘Tigon’ and ‘Carry On’ films.

Adapted by Richard Harris from the novel by Audrey Erskine-Lindop, “I Start Counting” is a weird hybrid of kitchen sick drama, risqué coming of age flick and sex predator exploitation.
But it’s a mix that does not get it quite right, reducing the killer subplot far too much thus making the threat slip into the background (which is the point I admit, as it is not meant to be the main focus of the film and is really a metaphor) reducing that sense of dread too far, until the more conventional thriller finale where it suddenly becomes the big thrust of the narrative but in a way that seems now too abrupt due to the lack of detail and coverage of the killings beforehand.

So don’t go expecting an explicit sex killer on the loose exploitation ride like the same year’s “Night, After Night, After Night”, as here the main focus is on Wynne’s growing realisation of her own sexuality and dispossession from her adopted family as she starts to think back to her (far too vague quite frankly) early childhood with her real parents.
The other main point of the film is the changing times that Wynne’s generation are maturing into. This is the tail end of the swinging sixties and loud music you parents don’t like is the norm, skirts as short as can be without getting a clip round the ear are the fashion and more open and frank attitudes to sex are creeping into daily life.
And it is here that the film’s positive attributes shine forth.

These aspects of life in England during this time are a fascinating part of the film and anyone with an interest in such explosive times of social upheaval will find much to enjoy here.
And despite the generally serious nature of the film there is some nice humour based around the changing sexual mores of the time…even where the Catholic Church holds sway.
A lovely sequence early on sees a local Priest (the ever reliable Charles Lloyd Pack) having a not very happy time of it as he addresses Wynne and her schoolmates during a sex education/morality lecture.
As you would expect the teenage girls are loving the chance to make a Priests face go red with embarrassment and his nose twitch with indignation.
As well as Corrine (who knows of Wynne’s crush on George) making the Priest shuffle awkwardly by bringing up veiled question about incestuous relationships and Wynne eventually joining in as her embarrassment is overcome by her genuine desire to see where her feelings fit into her religious schooling , we have a wonderful moment where a very serious and forthright young girl stands up and shouts out to the now weary man of God, “What’s the Pope got against the pill”?

This religious connection to sex is carried on throughout the film with many a pure white wall, or shining bright light dominating the scene where sometimes that purity becomes stained…like a fine scene (that really opened up questions that we sadly never get any answers too) where Wynne imagines what seems to be her Mother lying dead at the bottom of some cellar stairs as the young version of herself touches the blood pooling under her Mum's head only to quickly wipe crimson trails upon her pretty white dress as blood that meant death to the young Wynne mirrors the menstrual blood of life that is about to enter the older Wynne’s life as her body catches up with her mind concerning her feelings for George.

The biggest metaphor though comes in the form of the sex murders. Although we never see them the timing of these sexual attacks is crucial to Wynne’s growing psychological make-up concerning sex.
If her fantasies about George (while in the bath she imagines he has quietly come into the bathroom to look at her) are the sexual thrill that comes with such desires, if the coy, shy, little conversations with George are the romantic thrill, then the unseen killer is the danger that comes from her newly found desire.
They of course mean that sex at the wrong time in the wrong place with the wrong man can be literally deadly, but they also stand for the fact that there are consequences when you become sexually active, more serious aspects to desire than just the girlish thrill of a touch or a look.
Really, I think purposely but I don’t think in a preaching way, the killer becomes the great big Catholic bogeyman of sinful sexual encounters and their repercussions.

So we have many interesting things happening within the story and the rough, gritty, look of the film also adds to the whole vibe of the time.
But the film is also saddled with a few pretty poor songs as well and even though they, lyrically, mirror the growing awakening and feelings of the young characters in the film they often seem jarring and, especially when a dire ditty comes on over shots of Wynne and Corrine walking around the town, out of place. This use of pop tunes was something very common in films of the time as popular music hit it’s greatest power and influence in everyday life. Hardly any film involving real people and their real lives didn’t have a poptastic, swinging, groovy soundtrack either written for it or bought in from hits of the day. But the songs in “I Start Counting” seem very un-groovy indeed and instead are twee and cloying.

If the exploitation aspect of the story is tame indeed as far as the killings go, it has a bigger influence during the day to day scenes of Wynne’s life. And it is here we just have to mention the young Jenny Agutter.
Looking as cute as the cutest thing in the house of cute in the land of much cuteness she shows that shyness has never meant much too her (as her subsequent film career would delightfully prove) as the opening credit sequence includes the 16 year old Agutter putting on (nothing seen though) and walking around in her underwear as she gets dressed into her school uniform.
I feel like a dirty old man just typing such things!
It has to be said though that some of the publicity stills (see above) were far more creepy with the schoolgirl teasing than the film itself ever is.

But this is not just a bit of cheeky exploitation as the carefree scene of her getting dressed shows us not only the budding young woman but that this budding young woman is still in the guise of a schoolgirl.
That contradictory time (that means everything to the movie) between dressing as you did when you were 12 but having the growing body and feelings of a young woman is effectively set out for us before the narrative even begins.
The aforementioned bathing scene only shows down to her shoulders, but its set-up still carries a genuine sexual edge and a barely realised masturbatory scene (as Wynne moves her hands briefly over her body before pulling away and burying her head under the bed covers) again is more than just a bit of titillation as it shows the young girl fighting against the feelings of the young woman.

Agutter, away from her obvious physical presence, also delivers a genuinely satisfying acting performance as the confused, torn, Wynne.
She may not have the more flighty and fun character that Clare Sutcliffe has to play with (another nice little turn as well from an actress whose career never really came to anything) , but she ensures Wynne is always likeable and never remotely annoying or selfish despite her obsessions and need to force her way into George’s life whether he wants it or not.
She really comes into her own during the numerous daydream/fantasy/flashback moments and shows some real fire during the finale as the film turns into a more conventional ‘damsel in distress’ fright flick.
She was just a year off her real breakthrough role in a very different film indeed, the astonishingly well loved “The Railway Children”, and shows a true star presence here that would endure her to audiences for years in everything from art house flicks like “Walkabout” to that evergreen horror classic “An American Werewolf I London” where all her many attributes would come into play…oh boy!

Away from Jenny and Sutcliffe the marvelous Bryan Marshall shows why it’s a crying shame he did not have a bigger career (his undoubted triumph is his great turn as the scheming Counselor Harris in the classic “The Long Good Friday” before not much else other than a support role career in America) as he skilfully essays George as a character we truly have no idea about as far as him being the killer is concerned. Only the sometimes weak plotting tends to steer us towards a conclusion before the actual revelation as far as his character’s guilt or not is concerned.
Otherwise the cast is unexciting if perfectly competent and the only other person who sticks out is the young Simon Ward (just on the cusp of a mini-breakthrough in “Frankenstein must be Destroyed”) as a rather leery Bus Conductor.

So what we have with “I Start Counting” is a real mish-mash of ideas (even genres) that sometimes works sublimely well as far as linking metaphors from one plot strand to another goes and as far as character development goes, but at times also seems to not focus enough on one aspect (the killings) while rather treading water on some of the more kitchen sink drama stuff goes.
But it’s well made, pretty well directed by Greene (although the pacing issues are here just as much as they were in his more popular “The Shuttered Room”) and very well acted by it’s three main leads.

We have some frustrating problems as far as Wynne’s back-story goes that I would have liked gone into more (in that one scene did her Mum fall? Was she pushed by her Dad? Was the entire thing just Wynne’s fantasy?) and if the screen time is too truncated and the exploitation aspects too diluted (as this is a major background influence on the dramatic narrative) as far as the sex killings go (away from the genuinely affective finale inside an abandoned house that delivers a couple of good, dark, shocks), the sight of a young Jenny Agutter is always going to be a big plus, as is the clever look at such a vital era in the history of Great Britain and the influence it had on those who had to crawl their way to adulthood within it.