Meadhall of the Comitatus

My fond childhood memories of Warlock were nearly eroded by a recent viewing of the cult classic horror film. The movie is so cheesy I was constipated by the time the credits rolled, but the effort is not totally wasted, for Warlock has one of the coolest premises of any horror film.

And in this corner, the 1691 staring contest champion...

Undo Creation
The warlock invokes a spell to escape execution in Boston in the year 1691. Finding himself transported to the present day of 1989, he learns that he has been sent here by Satan to reconstruct the Grand Grimoire. This lost book of witchery contains the true name of God; speak the name backwards and you undo all of Creation.

Now, I’m all for giving God a mulligan, so naturally I was rooting for the Warlock the entire time. Not that I condone biting out tongues, murdering children, and making men vommit fire*, but it must be said that the warlock has some major fright potential. Unfortunately, the comic team of heroes and a playful score by Jerry Goldsmith lent this a fear factor on par with an episode of Parker Lewis Can’t Lose. Somehow it got an R rating, but was probably an F-bomb away from a PG-13.

He comes from a secret place, far below the city streets, hiding his face from strangers, safe from hate and harm. He brought me there to save my life... and now, wherever I go, he is with me, in spirit. For we have a bond stronger than friendship or love. And although we cannot be together, we will never, ever be apart.

He’s a Scottish priest. She’s a ditzy hoebag. They fight crime!
Redferne is the witch-hunter priest present at the time the warlock escapes execution. He, too, is transported to the present by means of the spell, where his superauthentic drunken caveman accent scares the piss out of Lori. Lori is a trollop whose house the warlock was transported into. By the time Redferne shows up, the warlock has already killed Lori’s roommate and channeled the spirit of Satan via a charlatan psychic, so you can see who’s winning the race. Go Warlock!

Now Redferne is a-needin’ some help ta be catchin’ dee warlock. Ifin’ he haid ’is bagpipes, he could summon the angelic goat steed, but alas, he cannae, and so praythee young loose woman, whilst thou help a man in a fur cape? Um, nope.

An unfortunate misstep by the warlock makes Lori and Redferne allies. Instead of carving up Lori and wearing her skin (which I don’t condone, just saying it’s an option), he casts a spell on her that causes her to age twenty years every twenty-four hours. Now Redferne has a helper who can drive horseless carriages about.

Redferne teaches Lori how they beat meat in 1691.

My magic artifact’s specs are in my sig
The warlock’s got the best shit: eyeballs imbued with the power of Satan, a sweet flying potion, and the indestructible pages of the Grimoire. Redferne’s got a magic compass, a salted whip, a hammer and nails, a weathervane, and copious amounts of body hair. Once again, the warlock is clearly the more badass, and his not-girly-at-all ponytail proves it. So how does he lose?

I’m not sure. The warlock’s defeat is really inexplicable. He could have killed these clowns so many times and in so many ways. I can only assume that test audiences didn’t care for the original ending, in which God’s real name (Marion) was read backwards and everything rapidly dissolved. Instead, the exalted emissary of Satan is defeated by the equivalent of Daphne from Scooby Doo.

Cheese popcorn required
Warlock is fun times, but falls short of its potential. It’s rare that I watch a movie and hope desperately for a remake, but Warlock is one of those rare cases. A more unforgiving Warlock and a less hilarious witch-hunter team could really do this story justice.

Especially if they end it right next time.

* Okay, I totally condone making men vommit fire.