“Tell him I’m coming back to kill that devil. It’s my only chance!”

“Africa!” we are told, in portentous voiceover. “A country that for centuries was hidden from civilised man!”

There’s little point engaging with the “there won’t be snow in Africa this Christmastime” idiocy on show here at this point (one assumes what they mean is “hidden from white man”, given all the civilisations Africa has managed to host quite successfully over the years). Why? You might ask. Well, because if you engage with all the misguided stuff on show throughout this particular story, you’ll end up both very annoyed and extremely tired.

“Africa” is, given the budget, here shown as either stock footage or barely-disguised heathland (probably the site of some kind of tea bungalow) somewhere in the south of England. The continent is also absolutely packed with “dark religions” (despite the best efforts of “civilised man”, one assumes) and “instant death” (likely as not because of said “civilised man”, but anyway. Like I say, it’s just too tiring).

One African god is Simba the lion (pay attention at the back, this is important. Bryant Haliday, I’m looking at you). This means it is not a good idea to kill a lion. Cue big game hunters (civilised men, obvs) trying to kill a lion.

Mike Stacey (Haliday) is leading the expedition. He’s meant to be the best at shooting animals for no reason, and he must be good to succeed at his job when wearing a white denim ensemble and matching cowboy hat. No need for camouflage out in the African bush when you’re Mike Stacey! One of his shooting party has shot a lion, but only wounded it – which is, apparently, “worse than not shooting it at all”. So it needs to be finished off.

The lion has, unfortunately, now escaped into the land of the Simbaza tribe, where it is venerated as a god. Stacey dismisses their beliefs as “mumbo-jumbo”, but no-one else from the shooting party – including his colleague Major Lomas (Dennis Price) – wants to follow it in there. So Stacey goes on alone. With a black bloke to carry all his stuff, obviously.

“He’s either a fool or a very brave man,” comments Lomas about Stacey. His views on the poor guy who’s gone with him aren’t recorded.

After a tussle with stock footage of what looks like the least injured lion in Africa, Stacey (who is SO serious it hurts) is injured but succeeds in his task.

He is then threatened by the Simbaza, but dismisses the situation with a macho “I’ve never had enough!”

Back at the expedition’s base, things start to go badly – most of the bearers have run off, and the one they have left suddenly gets possessed and tries to kill Stacey. The civilised men cut their losses and head back to the funky jazz clubs of Johannesburg. Or rather, the funky jazz clubs of “Johannesberg”.

Stacey is in a bad way – not only is he injured, cursed and suffering from an overdose of testosterone, but his wife has left him (as we discover through a lot of talked-through exposition at the bar). What he needs is an over-long “tribal” dance by a young lady who appears to be making it up as she goes along. But even that doesn’t help, long and unnecessary as it definitely is.

“Every she-vulture in town is waiting to gloat over my broken heart,” he laments. And decides there and then that he’ll go back to London and win his wife back.

BUT back in London, his wife doesn’t turn up for their reconciliation date, leaving Stacey with no option but to chat up and sleep with another woman.

It’s at this point that the curse really kicks in. As we see blokes back in Africa get up to voodoo hi-jinks, in London Stacey is subject to an ever-increasing cavalcade of odd experiences. He’s attacked by an invisible lion, and keeps seeing a black face at windows and sitting near him on the bus (erm…?). Eventually he pulls a gun and tries to shoot his tormentor, but this only succeeds in him having his gun confiscated by the police. Oh, and having his wife Janet return to him as she’s a bit worried his heavy drinking may have taken a turn for the worse (“First of all it’s outside the door, then it’s snakes on the ceiling”).

Out for a walk to the Heath Tea Bungalow (which as we all know is the only Tea Bungalow to be seen at), Stacey spots some African types running at him, spears aloft, prompting an interminable foot chase which only ends when we find out Stacey is in bed, suffering from a fever. His wounds are infected – and just to make matters worse, if he doesn’t sort himself out in 24 hours, they’ll have no choice but to certify him for the mental hospital.

What’s more Janet has been to some kind of African Consul for some advice, who explains deadpan about the curse: “Some may call it the psychology of the guilt-ridden, others may call it praying a man to death.”

He then suggests, in a very un-diplomatic way, that Stacey’s only chance is to travel back to the scene of the crime, find the man who cursed him, and kill him.

As you may be gathering from the above, this is a very strange film – especially for a time as late as 1965. Its morals are all over the place. One assumes we’re supposed to be rooting for Stacey throughout, but his is a litany of crimes and misdemeanours that have you thinking “what a c-word” rather than “go, Mike”. Remember, this is a guy who has shot a defenceless animal, trespassed on sacred ground, ignored ancient laws, been unfaithful to his wife, is clearly an unrepentant alcoholic, thinks nothing of shooting someone just for having the cheek to be standing on the other side of a door, and wears double denim. And his crimes are only about to get worse. Also remember that up to this point in the film, NO HUMAN HAS DIED – and the only injuries Stacey has sustained he’s pretty much brought on himself.

So given all that, you’d expect him to get some kind of come-uppance. Well, if you’re thinking that, you’ve got another think coming, let me tell you.

The end of this film is quite astonishing – and not in a good way. The best you can say is that given Stacey’s behaviour throughout, it is at least consistent. But not really the greatest advert for Ango-Simbazi relations.