cinema history class: death line (1972)

 he session: Work-Aways

Four Movies with horrible horrible characters who remind Keith of some of our craziest work-away stories

As always, there may be spoilers here. And the trailer may be NSFW and/or NSFL.

Week 2: Death Line (1972)
Directed by Gary Sherman

My Level of Prior Knowledge
Never heard of it.

Plot:
When people begin vanishing in a London Underground station, the search uncovers a tragic, feral survivor living in the abandoned tunnels — a remnant of a forgotten disaster whose hunger drives the horror beneath the city.

Reaction and Other Folderol:

At first glance, Death Line may seem like fairly standard ’70s British horror—subways, missing commuters, gloomy lighting—but it turns out to be weirder, bloodier, and honestly more artful than I ever expected. The standout for me was the camera work. There’s a jaw-dropping 360-degree pan through the monster’s underground lair—one long unbroken shot that glides past corpses, debris, and our poor doomed characters. For a movie that otherwise feels small and grimy, that moment was gorgeous. I didn’t expect to call anything in this film “gorgeous,” but here we are.

The whole thing has a vibe very reminiscent of Texas Chainsaw Massacre—that same oppressive grime and sense that the characters have wandered into a forgotten pocket of humanity that really should’ve been left forgotten. But it’s actually gorier than TCM, which is saying something. The makeup work is terrific, too: the monsters look sickly, feral, and completely believable, like something that really could have evolved in the dark over decades.

Plot-wise, I have to confess: I didn’t fully get everything while watching. There are really only two monsters left, descendants of a group of workers trapped underground long ago, and they’ve only started grabbing passengers recently because the second one has died, leaving the last survivor desperate enough to venture out. Joe (or maybe Bobbo—I forget who gets the credit/blame here) laid all this out for me afterwards. It was in the exposition from the police, but somehow the meaning didn’t land for me in the moment. Not sure if that’s a flaw in the movie or if I was just having a slow night. Let’s generously say it’s 50/50.

What surprised me most is how oddly sympathetic the surviving monster is. Yes, he’s a cannibal and yes, he does terrible things, but the movie really leans into the idea that he’s more a victim of circumstance—lonely, wounded, and hardly articulate. There’s a strange pathos there that I wasn’t expecting, and it gives the whole story a little emotional dimension beyond “creature feature.” The cannibalism angle itself isn’t even played up that heavily; it’s there, but not milked for shock value.

The film also does a nice slow burn—creeping tension, a few genuinely well-executed jump scares—and then… well, the ending kind of just happens. After all the buildup, it feels a bit anticlimactic. Not a deal-breaker, but definitely a soft landing compared to the dread leading up to it.

A huge unexpected delight is Donald Pleasance as the police detective. He seems to be having the time of his life, tossing in dry humor, snapping at his assistant, and milking a running gag about tea that breaks the darkness just enough without feeling out of place. In a movie this bleak, a little comedy goes a long way, and Pleasance knows exactly how far to take it.

Overall, Death Line is a grimy, atmospheric slow burner with some surprisingly beautiful filmmaking and a memorable monster who manages to be terrifying and tragic all at once. Even with a muddled plot moment or two, it’s a fascinating little horror gem—and that 360-degree shot alone is worth the price of admission.

And Joe rated it a 10. Stop me if you've heard this one before...