But that doesn't mean that they shouldn't bother to see Peeping Tom. As a social document, they would surely find it fascinating. They would be surprised by its lurid Sixties colours and its abstract piano score. They would be amused by its stiltedness and theatricality and fascinated by the alleyways, apartment blocks and accents of the London of half a century ago. They might like the party frocks, the tarts and the chaps, and wonder why nobody (except a blind neighbour) seems to notice anything strange about the quiet, creepy and obviously weird Mark.
But most of all, they might be struck by the seriousness with which Powell dealt with his subject. Strange as it might seem given all the fuss, Peeping Tom is a very unsensational film.
We are aware of a guiding intelligence throughout. We are invited neither to condemn nor to cheer Mark. The fact of his death at the end is not to put the moral universe back on an even keel, as it might be in a lesser work, but rather the logical conclusion of his own, twisted experiment. It is — in the truest and best sense of the term — an adult film.
Speaking of which, films for grown-ups might seem rarer these days amid the super-heroes and talking bugs clogging up the screen, but they are still there, if you care to look. One such is The Kids are All Right. It is certainly worth seeking out, if you can see past the right-on subject matter of domestic drama within a Californian lesbian partnership. Annette Bening and Julianne Moore, two of Hollywood's best actresses, play a couple whose union is threatened when the sperm donor they used to beget their children re-enters their lives and causes emotional havoc. Witty, occasionally self-mocking of the puritan streak often present in so-called alternative lifestyles, and very believable, it is, counter-intuitively, a moral and — shock, horror — almost conservative film, in the value it puts on family loyalty, discipline and responsibility.