When the world of lurid horror paperbacks first burst into my awareness in my youth, one that I never got around to reading but had many a teen giggling over it's massive cocked demon antagonist was Ray Russell's Incubus. Not sure why I never read it, perhaps I had too many Guy N Smith books to keep me amused (literally, some of them are laugh out loud bad!).
Anyway, I had a faint idea that there was a film version and sure enough it turned up on the VTC label bearing the startling and potent image seen above. But as with the book, I somehow never got around to seeing it!
Well, now I have seen it. And I am not sure what to make of it at all! In many ways this is a cheap, tawdry, rushed piece of trash featuring a bunch of actors not really trying, presumably mentally counting up their paychecks and waiting for the shoot to end. John Cassavetes (a favourite actor of mine, who had previously worked with director Hough in the clunky, all-star assassination flick Brass Target) seems to be drunk though most of it, often looking through glazed eyes for too long before delivering his lines. The dialogue is often excruciating and there is some decidedly clumsy editing and some strange shot choices and a plot that frequently slips into incoherence...but wait...that reminds me of something...yes, Incubus is strangely reminiscent of a Lucio Fulci film from the same time.
Had the Incubus been Italian, dubbed and on the "Video Nasty" list (which it conceivably could have been, there is some grim stuff in here - after all the subject is that of a demonic rapist so well endowed that he ruptures his victims' internal organs) I reckon people would be talking about it with terms of reverence, hoping a new, better DVD comes along and discussing the merits of the murder scenes.
So, why treat it differently because it is Canadian? Hough does pull off some style - as bad as some camerawork is there are occasions of beautiful skill - and the sheer intensity of the film draws you in. The ridiculousness of the story and its strange, downbeat ending actually works to its credit, veering towards Fulci-esque surrealism and dreaminess (indeed, dreams are a key plot point).
So, although half an hour in I was ready to turn it off, I am glad I stayed with it. In the end I quite liked it, though its flaws are apparent to all. Worth seeing, I reckon, especially if the likes of Lucio Fulci or Lamberto Bava appeal. I'm glad I finally watched it...I wonder If I'll ever read the book?
PS: One thing to beware of in Incubus is the appearance in some very cheesy footage shown in a cinema scene of awful NWOBHM band Samson complete with a make up clad Bruce Dickinson screeching away in the band he headed before he left and ruined Iron Maiden.
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