So, last night the QFT held it's first ever Horror All-Night-a-Thon. Not just any horror, oh no. The Devil Drops In was all about the Prince of Darkness, and some of his exploits on screen. A night spent in a darkened room with a bunch of horror fans watching Satan cut loose might not be everyone's idea of good time. But I went along for the ride and, by god, I survived. I survived!
Nine hours of horror and countless cups of free coffee later, my memory of the night is somewhat...hazy? But in the interests of intrepid journalism, let's attempt to walk through the evening's terror.
The Devil Rides Out
The campiest romp of camp romps. A Hammer horror starring Christopher Lee (of course) based on the novel of the same name by Dennis Wheatley. Lee plays the Duc de Richleau who discovers the son of a friend is involved in all things Satanic. Attempting to rescue Simon from the Devil's clutches, the film takes in not-entirely-high-speed car chases through the English countryside in which nobody actually appears to be driving, and an unintentionally hilarious cast of supporting characters including a cross eyed Duchess and the Devil himself. Fortunately, Satan (a half man, half goat type being) appears to be easily defeated by some car headlights, so that's the end of that. The film basically ends with one great big deus ex machina and some God praising - God bless us, everyone!
Invocation of My Demon Brother
Nope. No idea what was going on here. Kenneth Anger's short film is full of psychedelic '60s mysticism which therefore means it made no sense whatsoever.
What I can remember - there were some evil cats. There was a man wearing some fabulous glittery robes. There was an Albino doing some serious thinking. There were quite a lot of penises. There was a bored looking dog. I understood how the dog felt.
The film also boasted a soundtrack by Mick Jagger. I say soundtrack - it was basically Jagger hitting the same key on a Moog over and over again until I thought I was in Guantanamo Bay and confessed to some acts of terrorism I had never actually committed.
The Blood on Satan's Claw
Or, Lark Rise to Hellfire. Some '70s folk-horror that involves a witch with one hell of a Scouse brow wreaking havoc on some simple folk in the countryside.
I think my favourite character in the movie was the chap I christened Stumpy (it was a long night, I can't expected to remember names). He had some fabulous long hair and a stump for a hand after the Devil - a hairy chap himself - charmed Stumpy into chopping off his digits. Although the Roger Daltrey-a-like who spent the movie running around in a sleeveless vest and pedal pushers while failing to save anybody's life whatsoever was a close runner up.
For all the witchcraft, the most disturbing scene was probably Frank Spencer's wife having an orgasm. As I understand it, the film ends with the Honey Monster doing an erotic dance for a fat man with a sword and a fabulous taste in robes and headwear. I may not understand it very well.
Lucifer Rising
Some more Kenneth Anger occultism. Apparently, the film takes in a ritual summoning the angel Lucifer. This ritual seems to involve women shaking their breasts at the sun, men with technicolour dreamcoats and perms staring at soft furnishings and Marianne Faithfull getting upset about some ruined leggings.
Prince of Darkness
John Carpenter's 1987 sci-fi inspired horror in which Satan - or the Anti-God - appears to be an extraterrestrial goo living in a lava lamp. Featuring double denim, handlebar moustaches and and mullets galore, the film couldn't be more Eighties unless it had a neon sigh flashing throughout saying "I WAS MADE IN THE EIGHTIES, BY THE WAY".
There is also some light racism thrown in for good measure, what with the uptight Asian girl scientist, Jewish mother jokes ("I said RICH doctor!"), and a black man, infected with Satan goo, singing Amazing Grace as he climbs the stairs. And, hey, it's the Eighties, so there's some Aids metaphors thrown in for good measure as the Anti-God makes his way through the world via the sharing of bodily fluids.
Of course by this point it was very early in the morning, and I confess that the grainy video dream sequence repeated throughout the movie was enjoyably unsettling. It was all very Nigel Kneale, but to be honest, it just made me want to watch Doctor Who two-parter The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit which covered pretty much the same storyline much better.
The Exorcist
Oh, you've all seen The Exorcist. Even if you haven't, you know the plot, so there's no need for me to explain it. Which is just as well, as I'm afraid I didn't quite manage to stay awake throughout the entire thing.
Still, I woke up for the end of the movie, and the end of the horror-a-thon. And in time for breakfast! God knows, after watching Linda Blair spit up pea soup, I often feel the need to eat bacon sandwiches and bagels.
And that was that! We survived the night of terror and wandered off into the morning light, yawning and cowering away from the sun. And then sleep, for those who had no fear of the Prince of Darkness wandering into our dreams anyway.
