I Start Counting!

Although this 1969 adaptation of Audrey Erskine Lindop’s novel is more of a ‘Coming-of-age story’ rather than a thriller, it does have its genuinely creepy ‘old dark house’ moments. Featuring a 16-year old Jenny Agutter in a compelling performance as an adolescent who has an unhealthy crush on her considerably older stepbrother (who may or may not be a serial killer) this gem ticks all the right boxes…

Set in the fictional city of Dalstead – a concrete nightmare in which new and soulless architecture gradually destroys old-charm tradition – we are introduced to the somewhat dysfunctional Kinch family: twice-widowed mother (Madge Ryan), slightly senile Grandpa (Billy Russell), rebellious son Len (Gregory Phillips), mature George (Bryan Marshall) and Wynne (Jenny Agutter). It is ‘innocent’ schoolgirl Wynne who, on the one hand, is still a child (emphasised by various toys in her room, most notably an eccentrically looking big white rabbit) while on the other hand, she is on the cusp of discovering her sexuality. Unfortunately she opts for her stepbrother George as the ‘object of her desire’ and this is a decision which later on will land her in troubled waters… You see, there’s a serial killer nicknamed ‘The Dalstead Killer’ on the loose and when Wynne, secretly spying on Bryan as she invariably does, discovers scratch-marks on his back when he takes off his blood-smeared jumper in the bathroom she’s convinced he must be culprit. Only that she’s now even more hell-bent on protecting him and she certainly has no intention of telling her friends or other family members what she glimpsed in the bathroom.

When not spying on Bryan she spends time going to confession (a Catholic motif runs throughout the film) with the local priest (Lewis Fiander) not sure what to reply to her hints regarding incest, or heading to cafés and record shops with her best friend Corinne Eldridge (Clare Sutcliff) who is in many ways the opposite to Wynne: a wanton flirt who wears too much make-up for her age and who’s more interested in the physical side of love as opposed to the ‘pure’ side. In fact, in one scene George calls her a “pathetic little mini-tart” thus setting off a string of events with deadly outcome. There is also a funny scene during which the school girls are subjected to a talk on sex education and clearly the pupils already know a great deal more than the stuck-up old Catholic priest (Charles Lloyd Pack) dares to reveal, awkwardly avoiding answering the pupils’ mock-questions as much as he can. When school is finished Wynne and Corinne are ushered back home in their school bus, with the outwardly friendly yet obviously insecure bus conductor (Simon Ward in his first movie appearance) giving the girls well-meant advice that their skirts are too short… Fed up with domestic quarrels, Wynne’s daydreaming habits take on ever-stronger forms and in her mind she dreams up scenarios of a perfect love between her and George, forever protecting him. Then there’s the ramshackle old house in the woods (marked for demolition) which provides a secret playground both for Corinne and Wynne though her mum has strictly forbidden her to wander off into the woods as several schoolgirls had been found murdered nearby and with still no trace of the killer. Of course, the two girls couldn’t care less about well-meant parental advice and off they go to play in said house, with Wynne’s vivid imagination once again running on overdrive as she imagines George killing a female pupil in the cellar and dispatching the corpse while ‘saviour’ Wynne burns his blood-stained clothes.

During another occasion Wynne decides to hide in George’s van and thus spies yet again on his every move though this time round she has a rude awakening when it transpires that George already has a girlfriend, a highly unstable woman called Leonie (Lana Morris) who attempted suicide a few weeks ago and with George trying to save her (hence his blood-stained clothes). This discovery marks a turning point for Wynne who has now come to realise that George is not the killer after all but that her hopes of marrying him have gone up in smoke, seeing how he is already in a relationship. Pure love, as Wynne imagines it to be, only exists in dreams and Hollywood movies. Days later, during a picnic, an altercation between George and Corinne takes place when she tries to make Wynne jealous after Wynne’s fabrication of an all too obvious lie – an attempt that not only backfires but will soon land her – and Wynne – in mortal danger…

The film works on many levels though those who expect a straight-forward thriller will be disappointed. I START COUNTING! is thriller, psychological drama and a coming-of-age story all rolled into one, interspersed with the occasional shot of humour. Jenny Agutter and Bryan Marshall are in top form and the movie benefits from a strong on-screen chemistry between the two actors. Simon Ward is equally convincing as a troubled soul and Clare Sutcliff’s bubbly performance provides the ‘yang’ to Agutters’ ‘yin’. With its distinctive soundtrack courtesy of Basil Kitchen and David Green’s skilful and sensible direction ‘I Start Counting’ is a fine example of British cinema and the phrases ‘Don’t go into the woods’ and ‘Never take sweets from a stranger’ not only provide clues as to the killer’s identity but are to be taken seriously.

This rare cult film will be released for the first time on Blu-ray on 19th of August through the BFI Flipside label including the following Bonus Material:

* A Kickstart: Jenny Agutter Remembers I Start Counting! (2020, 20 mins)
* An Apprentice With a Master’s Ticket (2021, 40 mins):
* Worlds Within Worlds (2021, 33 mins) - art of music pioneer Basil Kirchin
* I Start Building (1942-59, 25 mins): archive films recalling the ‘New Town’ dream
* Danger on Dartmoor (1980, 57 mins): plucky kids face peril in this full-length Children’s Film Foundation adventure, featuring Barry Foster
* Don’t Be Like Brenda (1973, 8 mins): the perennial problem of teenage promiscuity is explored in this cautionary film designed for adolescent viewers
* Loss of Innocence: a video essay on I Start Counting! by filmmaker Chris O’Neill
* Audio commentary * Theatrical trailer * Image gallery
* Newly commissioned sleeve artwork / illustrated booklet (first pressing only)