Evil snake women, profane pagan rituals, human sacrifice, blasphemous psychedelic visions, women in bondage, topless nuns, bagpipe abuse—yes, I can only be talking about one film: The Lair of the White Worm, Ken Russell’s campy, phantasmagoric 1988 cult classic. Russell is a respected, though controversial, director with a singular vision and a noted penchant for excess, in his life and in his films. His work includes such well-known movies as Altered States, Gothic, Tommy, The Devils and Women in Love. With The Lair of the White Worm, he didn’t break any new ground, but he did deliver a fun, eccentric flick that couldn’t have been made by anyone else. What more does a director need to do?
The Lair of the White Worm is (very) loosely adapted from a Bram Stoker novel. When writing the screenplay, Russell kept the white worm, discarded most everything else and fashioned a story that played to his strengths as a filmmaker. The plot centers on a pair of sisters, Mary and Eve Trent (Sammi Davis and Catherine Oxenberg), who run a bed and breakfast in the English countryside. One of their guests, a Scottish archaeology student named Angus Flint (Peter Capaldi), is excavating a site in their garden, where he’s found the remains of a convent dating back to the days of ancient Rome. He also discovers a skull that just might be the remains of the legendary D’Ampton worm. As the tale goes, this mighty creature was slain centuries ago by John D’Ampton, the ancestor of Lord James D’Ampton (Hugh Grant). Lord James has recently acquired his inherited title and property, which includes the land on which the skull was discovered, lending credence to the myth.
This is where the sultry Lady Sylvia Marsh (Amanda Donohoe) comes in. She owns Temple House, near which Mary and Eve’s parents disappeared a year ago. Lady Sylvia is not only a vampy femme fatale, she’s also the seemingly immortal priestess of the snake god Dionin. She’s always on the lookout for a virgin sacrifice, and she thinks she’s found one in Eve Trent. It’s up to Angus and Lord James to solve the puzzle of the sisters’ missing parents and save Eve from being offered up to the giant white worm-snake that lives in the nearby Stonerich cavern.
Though I’ve given a quick plot summary, please don’t think that conveys what this film is. As the saying goes: It’s not what a film is about, it’s how it’s about it. And Russell’s films are a perfect illustration of that maxim. What you read in the previous paragraphs describes a movie that is a straight-ahead neo-gothic thriller, but Russell’s approach and twisted aesthetic provides a film that is more of an experience than words can express.
In the Ken Russell canon, The Lair of the White Worm holds an interesting place. After getting his start in the ‘60s with films that bumped up against the social boundaries of the times, Russell stomped all over those boundaries in the ‘70s. His films, though ground-breaking, became increasingly sensational and divisive, featuring hallucinatory imagery and explicit sexuality. Going into the ‘80s, he reined in his more fantastic ideas and produced films that were closer to the status quo. But The Lair of the White Worm sees Russell taking a step back by employing outlandish, sacrilegious visuals and unabashed sexuality, filtered through a dry sense of humor. This middle ground makes this film a good entry into the world of Ken Russell, who can generously be described as an acquired taste. With The Lair of the White Worm, you kind of get “Ken Russell’s Greatest Hits,” minus his more self-indulgent tendencies.
Another interesting aspect of this flick is its cast. We get to see a young Hugh Grant, before he became king of the rom-com. This is a reminder that Grant used to do edgy work. His character here is introduced as a privileged twit, but acquits himself nicely by film’s end. Grant makes the shift believable and seems to enjoy himself much than he does these days. As Lady Sylvia, Amanda Donohoe steals the film—and not only because she’s often nude. About her role, Donohoe has said, “I’m an atheist, so it was actually a joy. Spitting on Christ was a great deal of fun. I can’t embrace a male god who has persecuted female sexuality throughout the ages.” I think that says it all. And you might remember Catherine Oxenberg from Dynasty. Truthfully, here Oxenberg is little more than a damsel in distress, but how can you not have fun being offered as sacrifice to a giant snake god? This is about as far from Amanda Carrington as she could get.
Bless Ken Russell. He’s 82 years old and still working. IMDb lists his version of Moll Flanders as being in production, and that story is ripe for Russell’s perverted sensibility. Hopefully, he will continue to shock and entertain us for a while yet. If you want to see what he’s capable of, check out The Lair of the White Worm. I guarantee you’ll never look at Bram Stoker—or worms—the same way again.
~Theron Neel
Tags: '60s, '70s, '80s, Altered States, Amanda Donohoe, Bram Stoker, Catherine Oxenberg, Dynasty, Gothic, Hugh Grant, Ken Russell, neo-gothic, profane, Reviews, Sammi Davis, Slammed & Damned, The Devils, The Lair of the White Worm, Theron Neel, Tommy, Women in Love
I would love to read this story. I wish more of Bram Stoker’s work was available. I understand most people feel his only real accomplishment was Dracula and that everything else was pretty dull, but I would still like to read it.
As far as this movie goes, I thought it was pretty entertaining. It used to be on TV a lot when I was in high school, which, given all the nudity they had to blur out was pretty amazing. I haven’t actually seen it on video yet. Maybe that will be a nice little treat this weekend if my video store still has a copy.