The Man Who Haunted Himself was one of those films that every video store in the early-1980s had, because they only had 20 films, but there was always something creepy and off-putting about the cover with an overlapping Roger Moore.
Having finally seen it recently, it's not quite as upsetting as that video cover ever promised, and plays out like a typical psychological horror of the 70s, as Moore's Harold Pelham gradually cracks under the pressure of a doppelganger that is taking over his life.
But there is something genuinely thrilling in seeing Sir Roger Moore completely lose his shit in the film. Even when his Bond was facing certain death at the hands of Scaramanga or Baron Samedi or Max Zorin, it never got more than an arched eyebrow out of him, but he's all confused and sweaty throughout this film.
Moore was always such a stiff-upper-lip actor, but when that lip was given the chance to tremble a bit, it's not disappointing to see Moore get stuck into it.
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