Familiar stuff with the addition of a bit of nastiness and gore; very average.

The ladies spend most of their time in the parlor, drinking tea and talking the plot over and out.

The chemistry of quality, partially in James Kelly's script and direction and largely in the ladies' performances, transforms the crude shocks into something approaching genuine compassion for lives spent in the grip of memory.

Quite what induced Beryl Reid and Flora Robson to get involved in such a pointless exercise is a mystery, but they are the only reason for watching this forgettable nonsense.