The promise of this Jack McHenry written and directed movie is straightforward: “Let’s take the micky out of the old Agatha Christie rip-off movies of the 30s”. It’s a simple, evocative, and, to the right kind of person, enthralling concept, and about the first 20 minutes of the film do a good job of it. But, much like the best murder mysteries, things suddenly go awry in the best possible manner.

The set up is pure debutante delight. The gregarious Victor (Charlie Robb) is spaffing his inheritance on another silly project, a mansion in the country. Freddie (Timothy Renouf), full time tennis player and part time cad, and Elizabth (Jessica Webber), legal secretary and wholesome working-class girlfriend, are invited to see it, along with George (Tim Bailey), who’s Texan, and Christine (Margaret Clunie) who’s a bitch. The house is in ruins, the cellar is being raided, and there is the distinct probability that no one is really honest about their intentions or really gets on with each other.

Everything is shot in black & white and there is a gorgeous attention to detail. Backscreen projection, long shots, and measured deliveries are all used to give things an utterly authentic air. If it wasn’t for the clarity of the vison and sound you would be forgiven for thinking it an actual product of the golden age of Interwar British cinema. This is not mockish parody, but loving replication.
Tensions mount, motives become clear, and battlelines are drawn with winks and nods. It’s high drama, with reputations and honour likely to be on the line. Then the séance happens, because it’s gone midnight and TV hadn’t been invented, and things change gear. We’re now in a fairly tense but still quite civil horror, something around the late 40s or early 50s. Maureen Bennett does a fantastic turn as the medium (replete with a couple of authentic caricature moments) and it’s all quite exciting.

Then it all goes horribly, wonderfully wrong, and we crash straight into one of the best riffs on The Evil Dead I’ve seen. Whilst things stay in black & white the visual style changes and blood goes everywhere. It’s played utterly for meanspirited, gore infused, belly laughs as limbs and organs go flying. As the mystery develops, and the bodycount rises, we are treated to more styles and a diversity of form in storytelling, all whilst maintaining a continuity for character and plot.

I don’t want to give too many details, as it’ll spoil the surprises, but, needless to say, it’s an absolute Treasure. It delivers far more than it promised, and that added to the joy of the ride as you don’t know what’s going to happen next in the best possible way. No one has a duff moment and that it was made for £20,000 is a testament to the imagination and talent involved.

There is simply too much frenetic chop and change to consider it a one trick pony, even it is presented as one. I recommend you get your horror comedy loving friends together and watch it, as it’s simply too good to miss. You will be charmed, you will be enthralled, and if you’re anything like me you’ll laugh like a gutter at peoples bodies being rendered apart in amazingly unforgettable ways.