We have so much to thank Criterion for, don’t we? They consistently bring back the most exciting (and often forgotten films) so we can enjoy them once again or for the first time. This month they did not fail, pulling together a collection of offbeat and bizarre 80s horror films that made me wonder if I had been doing Halloween wrong for all these years. I decided to kick things off with The Lair of the White Worm (1988) which honestly first piqued my curiosity because of its cast (a young Hugh Grant, a young Peter Capaldi) and then sealed my decision to watch it when Criterion posted a series of stills from the movie to their Instagram page. I was hooked. All they had to do was reel me in.
The Lair of the White Worm is very (very) loosely based on a Bram Stoker story of the same name. It stars Peter Capaldi as Angus Flint, an archeology student staying at an inn and excavating its yard. It is here that he is introduced to the inn’s proprietors, Mary (Sammi Davis) and Eve Trent (Catherine Oxenberg), sisters who have recently lost their parents under mysterious circumstances. Flint discovers a large and strange skull that he believes is linked to the area’s local legend of the d’Ampton Worm. A creature that was supposedly slain by James d’Ampton’s (Hugh Grant) ancestor. d’Ampton happens to be the Lord of the Manor and the Trents’ landlord. Things only get weirder when the Trents’ neighbor, Lady Sylvia Marsh (Amanda Donohoe), arrives back in town.
The film rides the thin line between horror and comedy quite well via dialogue, costuming, and sets in only a way that British film can. The dry humor can be missed if you aren’t paying close enough attention. It is one of the most bizarre films I’ve ever seen--and still enjoyed. I’m determined to find out exactly how and why. (Needless to say… here come spoilers.)
I was a little thrown off by the opening and initial pacing of the story as it moved swiftly from the excavation site to a party where we meet most of our main characters. Flint is digging up the bizarre skull before I even knew where we were or who he was! But I finally felt like I could trust where we were going during the buffet scene at d’Ampton’s mansion.
It is here we learn about the myth of the d’Ampton worm and what it means to the small village. d’Ampton explains that the worm was slain by his distant ancestor and every year they celebrate this feat with a tavern party for villagers. Being rich, suave, and handsome of course, d’Ampton has decided to throw a lavish party at his manor this year. The conversation takes place over what I can only describe as the most unappetizing buffet table I have ever seen. Long octopus legs hang over the edges of bowls, wet-looking green Jell-o sits untouched, and eel heads point upward, gasping for air. d’Ampton helps Flint with his plate serving up a wormy-looking dish which turns out to be… well… worms. This scene sets the tone for the movie and was what I had been waiting for. It’s funny, a little grotesque, and very self-aware. I finally knew what I was going to get, and with that reassurance, I settled in to see where else it would go.
This bizarre universe seems wholly unbelievable but believable. The area is rural, terribly British, and seemingly removed from anything too modern. Anything could happen there. Like, earthworms being a local delicacy or the disappearance of two locals going unsolved. It is just after this party that a handful of events change the course of our story. First, Flint and Mary Trent witness a mystery car pulling into the Temple House, a nearby estate. After our local bobby cop investigates, the driver of the car turns out to be the lady of the house, Sylvia Marsh. Second, the pocket watch of Mary’s father is discovered in rural, nearby caves. Then it gets weird.
Really weird. And what this movie does so well is it unravels the myth of the White Worm as we go along. There is no long scrolling text at the open and no grand 10-minute reveal by a lead character. Instead, the myth and all of its intricacies are revealed to us as they surprise, torment, and guide the decisions of our protagonists. The laws of this myth are bizarre but somehow simple to understand. For example, it is revealed to us that Sylvia Marsh is a snake-like creature when she blasts venom all over a cross inside the Trents’ inn. Shortly after, Eve Trent touches the venom and immediately has horrifying visions of Lady Marsh and the White Worm. The venom transports people in this way and it happens more than once. We actually end up learning a lot about the White Worm and Lady Marsh through these venom-induced hallucinations.
Slowly, Flint, d’Ampton, and Mary Trent put together the pieces of the mystery of the White Worm and Lady Marsh. The script is structured very much like a whodunnit with clues dropped along the way. Hugh Grant is charming and you can see his star power bubbling beneath the surface. In fact, his usual bumbling but sexy shtick that we kind of all got tired of ten years ago, works here. He’s somehow both a bit more pompous and a bit more unsure of himself, a really delicious combination. At one point when Eve is trying to recount a terrifying vision she had but is having trouble remembering, he says simply, “Yeah…try harder.” He’s a charming and arrogant hero. And yet, the movie’s climax happens without him nearby and instead relies on Davis, Oxenberg, Donohoe, and Capaldi to pull it off.
Ultimately we learn that Lady Marsh is a vampire of sorts: a snake and a woman combined who lives forever. She has the power to turn others into snakes also and she lives her life serving her great master which is, instead of the devil, a gigantic white worm that lives underground and likes to eat virgins. She scares me, but is also a bit of a camp icon. She responds to snake charmer music, and is at one point put in a trance and lured around town by d’Ampton. She emerges from a basket in her home, arms up, alert, reptilian. nd I laughed out loud when earlier in the film she is sitting in a tree, very snake-like, but in her human form. Later she goes full snake, painted in blue with long fangs, and dons a giant strap-on to torture Eve before her sacrifice. (This movie is full of phallic symbols and I just haven’t the time to get into it all…)
The movie skips ahead a few hundred steps in the last 30 minutes or so and you have to wonder if they had somewhere to be or if they really thought they could get by with limited explanations. How did Flint change into a kilt so fast? How did he hide a mongoose in his kilt? How did he get the venom antidote so quickly? (If you haven’t seen the movie I realize, this sounds very bizarre and jarring.) Yes, the movie is surreal, but it still plays by a set of its own rules and doesn’t excuse the rushed nature of the ending. These moments where Flint “just so happens” upon a few solutions back to back, feel rushed and undeserved. A disappointing end to a rather enjoyable (and disturbing) movie.
This is one of those 90-minute movies where I feel I could write a two-part post… or maybe just as The Lair of the White Worm was supposed to have a sequel… maybe we just let the strength of this one stand on its own.