Long absent from the home-video arena - and never before officially released on DVD - this Australian sleeper has long been touted as a Down-Under "Carrie" knock-off, but is actually a wickedly unique suspense flick (allegedly based on a true story) from Richard Franklin, who followed a couple of years later with the excellent "Road Games" and the much less impressive "Psycho II." Franklin's devotion to Alfred Hitchcock was already apparent in his first horror project, which sports more than a few nods to the big H's cinematic sensibility.

Patrick (Robert Thompson) is a young man with an odd way of expressing himself. His only physical act in the entire film occurs during the pre-title sequence, in which he matter-of-factly disposes of his mother and her lover in the midst of their post-coital bubble bath. Three years and one credit sequence later, Pat's laid out in Room 15 of the Roget Clinic, comatose since the day of the murder. His inert form is hooked to an array of expensive-looking equipment, much to the chagrin of Dr. Roget himself (Robert Helpmann) - a cynical, bug-eyed loon whose hobbies include lobotomizing frogs (including one on camera - too bad Steve Irwin wasn't famous yet). Roget, who takes malicious glee in jabbing Patrick with needles, dubs him "A born devil, on whose nature nurture can never stick." His fellow candidate for the Patch Adams Wellness award is Matron Cassidy (Julia Blake), whose only admirable quality is perfect posture - no doubt due to the broomstick jammed up her ass. Cassidy spouts heartwarming adages such as "Disease, like God, moves in mysterious ways." She's quite miffed at Patrick's resilience, and won't even enter his room.

Into this garden of love comes poor Katherine (Susan Penhaligon), blessed with bottomless empathy, cursed with really bad hair, and hounded by her estranged husband Ed (Rod Mullinar), whose skills as a stalker are a bit lacking. Desperate to support her new independence, Kathy takes a job as a nurse at the clinic where, of course, her initiation into service involves caring for the creepy guy in Room 15 - a duty she really doesn't mind at all. As time passes, Kathy begins to look forward to her hours with Patrick, no doubt considering him to be the first non- threatening man she's met in a long time. She gets to enjoy this delusion for about 30 minutes before her first impression goes straight down the crapper.

That's because Patrick is far from brain-dead. Not only is that noggin filled to overflowing with homicidal rage, but he's also had three years to beef up his latent psychokinetic abilities. If that weren't enough, he's got a crush on Kathy, mistaking her kindness for physical affection (to be fair, that hand-job might have fostered the wrong impression), and he's more than willing to use his powers to wipe out anyone who might be in the way - in other words, pretty much the entire cast.

Considering the pyrotechnic potential of this situation, Franklin's approach is fairly subdued. Don't be misled by Elite trumpeting the blurb "Extremely Bloody!" on the package art; there are very few graphic moments, although quite a bit of sex for a PG film (ah, the '70s). The suspense lies instead with the bizarre relationship that unfolds between Kathy and her creepy patient. Chubby- cheeked Penhaligon is a sweet and sympathetic lead, but considering most of the other characters are comically overwrought, it's not a tough job. Everett De Roche's script drips with irony, giving the actors ample room to camp it up in a style reminiscent of late-period Hammer, and even injects (pardon the pun) a touch of social criticism. Some nice visual touches - love that "EMERGENCY (EN)TRANCE" sign - and a macabre sense of humor give a needed shot in the arm (pardon again) to what would otherwise have been your basic '70s movie-of-the-week material. Composer Brian May (lauded for his work on the "Mad Max" series) provides a passable Bernard Hermann- flavored score, but should be severely bitch-slapped for contributing the cinema's lamest "Jaws" in-joke ever.

Elite gives this cult classic the royal treatment for its DVD debut, presenting the uncut European release in 1.78:1 widescreen. The print is pretty decent, considering the film's age and relative obscurity, even if the colors are slightly washed out. The Dolby Mono track (Spanish & French dubs are also available) is passable, but the occasional "jump" effects (particularly THAT one - you'll know when it happens) come through nicely.

Extra treats include an informative and amusing commentary from Franklin, exclusive to Elite's disc; filmographies of nearly every major player (on both sides of the camera); the grubby-looking (and title-less) Australian trailer, which gives away most of the film's major twists; the decent-condition American release trailer; and a fairly unspectacular Easter Egg - all wrapped up with super-cool animated menus. All in all, this disc marks a welcome return for one of Australia's rare early horror productions, assuring that at least one of the genre's celebrated treasures has not been forgotten.