The House in Marsh Road ([a.k.a.: Invisible Creature] Montgomery Tully, 1960)

The House of the Four Wynds, or: Patrick the Protective Poltergeist

Irish-born director Montgomery Tully may not have had the most spectacular career in the history of cinema, but as the man behind the lens on such offerings as 1960's The Man Who Was Nobody (probably my favourite of all the brilliant Edgar Wallace Mystery Theatre quota quickies) and 1967's The Terrornauts his name tends to bring a smile to my thunderous features like a surprise appearance by an old old friend long unseen.  Whilst the majority of Tully's output would be in the realms of crime thrillers and mysteries, he had already dipped his toes tentatively into the realm of  the fantastic film with 1958's The Electronic Monster (alias Escapement) and would go on to helm the 1962 full moon murder mystery Out of the Fog (alias Fog for a Killer) before ending his career in 1967 with the double tap of The Terrornauts and the sci-fi disaster movie Battle Beneath the Earth.

The House in Marsh Road is a 1960 offering from Wimbledon's Merton Park Studios based upon a novel by prolific and multi-pseudonymed author Laurence Meynell, and opens by introducing us to David Linton (Tony Wright) and his long-suffering spouse Jean (Patricia Dainton) as they go about their obviously regular routine of fleeing their latest lodging house without paying the proprietress of the property (Olga Dickie).  David is ostensibly an author, but is more interested in idling and soaking himself in booze whilst procrastinating his purported penmanship (sadly, I can kind of relate to the dude, even though he be an undoubted douche - sometimes I can put off writing things for weeks and would rather have a drink instead.  Still, my emotional wounds are deep and he's just a knobhead, so I win).

Whilst the dosser and his dear are dodging the debts for their digs, Jean receives the unexpected news that she's come into an inheritance - a house names Four Wynds, located out in the wilds of the countryside on the lonely Marsh Road.  Arriving to inspect their bounty of a rambledown manor, the pair are greeted by the also-inherited Irish housekeeper Mrs O' Brien (played by Anita Sharp-Bolster, recognisable to any fan of Dan Curtis' cult Gothic soap opera Dark Shadows [or 'The Vampire, the Witch and the Werewolf' as I like to call it] as line-fluffing mystical crone Bathia Mapes).  Mrs O' Brien welcomes her new overlords employers, but informs them of the house's resident presence 'Patrick'.  David scoffs, not believing in any spirits that don't come in a bottle, but Jean soon notices small events such as chairs being moved and starts to give credence to the tale.

Whilst Jean embraces the idea of residing in her new abode, David is of the opinion that a house is not a home and more than eager to make some money by selling off the property and begins to grow more grudgeful of his bride the more she resists the idea.  Spending most of his time carousing in the local village inn while Jean settles in at Four Wynds, he is pointed in the direction of local lady Mrs Stockley: an accomplished typist who can help him get on with his work by transcribing his scribblings.  David finds Valerie Stockley to be just the diverting antidote for his writers' block, as she's far from the prim and bookish widow he might have imagined - being a blowsy blonde played by platinum bombshell '50s pin-up Sandra Dorne.

Growing steadily infatuated with the voluptuous Val and ever more estranged from Jean, David begins to plot a spot of uxoricide - after all, with the dull and ghost-believing missus out of the way, he can inherit the house then sell it on for a big pile of cash which can then roll about on naked with the new Mrs Linton Mk II.  What could possibly go wrong?  Well, for a start there's the small matter of the friendly spectre.  The titular creature (no, not Ms Dorne, I mean Patrick - the eponymous Invisible Creature of the movie's alternate name) foils David at every turn: when he gets Jean stumbling drunk and then attempts to engineer an 'accidental' fall down the house's elevator shaft the lift gate clangs shut just in the nick of time.  Patrick also foils plan B of poisoning Jean with an overdose-laced glass of milk by utilising his silent powers of telekinesis to point to the danger of the noxious fluid, probably permanently putting her off dairy.  Which will be of health benefit to her in the long term as well as the immediate future, really.

As Jean flees her lethal and quite literally toxic relationship, running back to London ('Heave on - to Euston / D'you think you've made / The right decision this time?'), David finds himself trapped in the house he hates with a vengeful shade and finally receives divine justice (or at least, supernatural justice) via a bolt from the blue that sends the house on Marsh Road up in flames.  Frightening lightning indeed.

Featuring a supporting cast of familiar faces from the period such as Sam Kydd, and whisking by at an enjoyable 70 minutes, The House in Marsh Road is a diverting little piece that I can definitely recommend checking out - it's available along with fellow curio The Monkey's Paw (Norman Lee, 1948) on a nice twin-spin DVD from the ever reliable Renown Films.