The Daemons

 

In many ways, ‘The Daemons’ is the ultimate 1970’s Dr. Who serial, choc-a-bloc with hauntological resonance, a wonderfully entertaining and involving melange of horror and science fiction, Nigel Kneale, Dennis Wheatley and T.C Lethbridge, folk dancing, fertility rites, witchcraft, ancient Gods and devil worship.

Originally broadcast in June, 1971, the story revolves around the village of Devil’s End, where an ancient barrow is about to be opened live on TV. Concerned, The Doctor rushes down there only to find that The Master has got there before him and, using what looks like black magic, has resurrected the inhabitant of the burial mound, Azal, an enormous horned satanic figure who was revered as a God in ancient times but is, in fact, the sole survivor of an alien race, The Daemons. The Daemons used to go from planet to planet seeding life,  occasionally returning to either help it develop or, if they determined that the experiment had failed, to destroy it.  Azal must now pass his awesome power to another (hence the Master’s interest) or, if he can’t find anyone worthy of the honour, pull the plug on the whole planet and everyone on it.

About an episode too long, not all of ‘The Daemons’ make sense, and some of it is plain daft, especially the ending which is along the lines of ‘does not compute – initiate self destruct’ but with a big hairy legged devil alien - but none of this matters, it’s such good fun. UNIT get to shoot supernatural things, there’s action by HAVOC and The Master is absolutely in his element, dressing up in scarlet robes and chanting a backwards version of ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb’ in a tea time version of a black mass.

There’s something terribly comforting about this period of the show for people who grew up in the seventies: it seemed a real pleasure and privilege to have The Doctor exiled on Earth, knowing that he was here and saving our beleaguered nation’s pale, dimpled arse week after week after week. I do like all the space stuff, but, for me, it was never quite the same once The Doctor got his freedom. As ‘The Daemons’ more than demonstrates, England can be a pretty weird and fantastic place: who needs an alien filled quarry far, far away when you can battle Lucifer in a pretty village in Wiltshire?

The Devil At Longleat

‘Blue Blood’ is a bit like Pinter's ‘The Servant’ in its tale of a man overcoming his master, but with added sex, drugs and satanic ritual. Yes, it does sound good, doesn’t it?

Derek Jacobi plays Lord Gregory, an enormously rich nobleman living in a huge stately home in the country. The selfish and spoiled Lord does very little during the day apart from painting erotic murals but, in the evenings, he throws lavish parties and sleeps with as many women as he can. In true feudal style, he keeps a retinue of ladies onsite to provide him with sons although, rather dopily, as he is married, very few of the kids can count as legitimate heirs. He obviously  just likes having his peerage polished.

Behind every decadent Lord there is a psychotic, jealous servant with a big moustache, and here that role is played by force of nature Oliver Reed as head servant, Tom. Tom knows he is a better, stronger, more powerful and more deserving man than his master, and has decided to take the house, the possessions, the wife, the ‘wifelets’ and the life and freedom that Gregory takes for granted away from him, and Tom has no qualms whatsoever in achieving his goal.

I like Oliver Reed a lot, but he’s not at his best in this film. He has the dark, glowering physical presence required, of course, and he delivers some key speeches brilliantly, but he saddles himself with an exaggeratedly working class accent which makes his character sound ridiculous and comedic rather than manipulative and menacing and fatally damages what he’s trying to achieve. Director Andrew Sinclair should have told him but then he may very well have been scared to broach the subject lest Ollie go mental and start flashing his tattooed cock.   

An uneven, sometimes queasily psychedelic film, the production benefits enormously by being filmed at Longleat House, the ancestral seat of the Marquis of Bath, a place of opulence and isolation, a real place with the feel of a fantasy. The Marquis’ son and heir, Alexander Thynn, wrote the book the film is based on, and also serves as the model for the promiscuous but slightly pathetic Lord Gregory. Thynn inherited the title (and the house and safari park) in 1992, becoming known as ‘The Loins Of Longleat’ in the tabloids for his interesting love life and unconventional lifestyle - although, as far as I know, this did not include employing a mad, bullying butler. Oh well, his loss.

Blue Blood

 

You're Invited To The Torture Party

‘Satan’s Slave’ is a film that director Norman J. Warren sweated blood to make, spending years on getting the finance into place. His efforts were rewarded with a sizeable UK hit and, best of all, a really cool piece of work that still entertains today.

Crazy old Michael Gough stars, here sporting an outsized moustache and, on occasion, a goat’s head mask. He has designs on his niece (Candace Glendenning), believing that her sacrifice will bring about the resurrection of a centuries dead witch. He is aided and abetted by his creepy rapist / murderer son who alternately woos and threatens the girl, who is especially vulnerable as her parents have just been burned alive in a mysterious car accident.  

Full of energy, verve and a keen sense of the grand guignol, ‘Satan’s Slave’ powers towards a surprising finale, but only after knocking off several cast members in a succession of grisly murders. Gough is his usual urbane / psychotic self, but a special mention should go to Martin Potter, who plays the evil son. Potter also appeared in ‘Goodbye, Gemini’, so seems to specialise in deeply fucked up individuals with a habit of stabbing their way out of uncomfortable situations. Potter is aided in his characterisations by his unforgettable face: at first glance rather handsome but, on closer inspection, waxy and haunted, like a contorted mask. It’s a great asset as an actor, although I wouldn’t want it between my ears.    

Satan's Slave

The Tomorrow People: The Heart of Sogguth

'Do you really think that young Mike playing an African tribal drum on television could raise the Devil from Hell and bring about the destruction of the Universe?'

Well, yeah, or, at least, that's the general idea of 'The Heart Of Sogguth', a 1977 story from the fifth series of 'The Tomorrow People'. It all starts when the mysterious Jake (Roddy Maude-Roxby) starts sniffing around Mike's band Flintlock, sorry, Fresh Hearts, and promising that, under his management, their anaemic brand of adenoidal pop will be 'bigger than The Beatles'. Immediately, we know that he must be evil. He's actually a Professor of Ethnic Culture and the head of a way out religious sect who worship Sogguth, an ancient evil who's essence is captured in the aforementioned drum, and has the power to control minds through dark percussive rhythms (yes, that is Bella Emberg freaking out at the band's rehearsal).

A slight and rather short story (the two episodes only run for about half an hour combined once you take out the credits, recaps and ad breaks), it nevertheless has three interesting things about it: the rather kinky initiation that John goes through, the tribal surfabilly / haunted house moog jam that Fresh Hearts, sorry, Hearts Of Sogguth, play on the telly, and the extraordinary ending in which they conclude that where there is the Devil, there is also a God, so we should probably all go to Church once in a while.

Anyway, here's that tribal surfabilly / haunted house moog jam, serving as a soundtrack to a really slow stun gun fight between the forces of good and (temporarily) evil.

As our friend Piper Gates previously pointed out, the commentaries on the 'TP' DVD sets are extremely amusing, and this one highlighted the fact that the scary skeleton left behind at the show's climax is a lot less scary when you notice that it still has the hook in the top for hanging it up.

Unholy Union

US poster for 'The Devil Rides Out' under its alternate title 'The Devil's Bride' I wonder what the wedding reception was like...

Un-Diabolical

One day in the mid 1970's, my Dad decided to recount to me the story of the film he'd watched last night. Once he'd finished his tale of hypnotic eyes, skeletons on horseback, giant spiders and the Devil in the form of a goat I made him promise to let me watch it the next time it was on. The film was, of course, 'The Devil Rides Out'. When I finally saw it, perhaps a year or so later, I was astonished. It was BETTER than he had described it.

I love this film, it has everything apart from Peter Cushing. It's scary, it's funny, it's thrilling, it's preposterous, it's Hammer, it's Dennis Wheatley and it's quite brilliant. Highly recommended.

The Devil Rides Out

Strange Report

An interesting clip from 'Report 8944: Hand - A Matter of Witchcraft', an episode of the 1969 ITC series 'Strange Report', starring Anthony Quayle.

Every show started brilliantly, with a bizarre or intriguing pre-credit sequence, setting up a mystery which genius criminologist Adam Strange would be called in to solve. Sadly, the stories never really kept up the momentum, and many of the solutions were rather prosaic. Nonetheless, very watchable, and Quayle is a solid and credible lead.

Hail, Behemoth!

'Blood On Satans Claw' starts brilliantly when a 17th century farm boy (he's about 30, of course) uncovers a grotesque looking skull in the field he is ploughing, complete with a single intact eye.  The rest of the film is pretty good too, produced on a shoestring by the under rated studio Tigon (also responsible for 'The Witchfinder General' and 'Virgin Witch' amongst others) but full of creepy moments and genuine shocks, as well as some authentic period detail and lashings of over-acting, furry hands, nudity and Satanic ritual.

It's one of the few British films which draws on our long, dark history of witchcraft, superstition and genuine belief in the occult. The trailer will tell you more, but my key note is that if you haven't seen this film, you should, you really should, 'tis mental.

The Blood on Satan's Claw

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