by Daniel White
A young (and fun) Hugh Grant appears in Ken Russell's The Lair of the White Worm (1988). Too bad the rest of this subpar flick couldn't coax more mirth from me. Or genuine chills. For a film touted as specializing in comedy/horror, it delivers little of either. Ken Russell's reputation for being a campy, over-the-top showman of outrageous spectacles produced tingly palpitations within me as the opening credits rolled. But my fevered expectation soon curdled, leaving me let down and looking for the exit.
Set in the East Midlands of England, it's a tepid tale about a serpent-worshipping occultist (Amanda Donohue) and her devious endeavors to supply her worm god with human sacrifices. Donohue tries hard but can't overcome the soft screenplay and spotty plot. She spews venom on a crucifix, seduces then kills a pimply boy scout-type, and does a sexy snake dance, but it's all rather pallid. She even straps on an impressive, intimidating dildo, with the intent of impaling poor Catherine Oxenberg (who gives the one truly dreadful performance). This is the stuff of cosmic campiness. Why then does it feel tired and trite? Instead of being shocking and scandalous, it's just plain silly. Even the special- effects are patchy and second rate.
Loosely based on the Bram Stoker novel, distributed by Vestron Pictures (it was all downhill after Dirty Dancing), and featuring Peter Capaldi and the appealing Sammi Davis, The Lair of the White Worm is currently streaming on Tubi.
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