A simple yokel discovers a strange, demonic 'face' whilst ploughing his field; Then comes a wonderfully unnerving credit sequence with a raven seated in a silhouetted tree. The viewer sits up straight. "Ah", he thinks, rubbing his hands, "a scary-yet-poetic meditation on the fears and superstitions of simple dark ages country folk a la 'Witchfinder General'". Well, no. 'Blood on Satan's claw' never achieves the cohesion and narrative drive of that (also slightly overrated) film. What it does have is a handful of eye-catching sequences and ideas executed in surprisingly lurid detail. Nice photography and an effective if slightly run-of-the-mill score help cover the cracks.
The film was originally conceived as a portmanteau piece, with three separate stories. The makers then decided to link the tales with a common location: a 16th century rural community. They didn't quite figure out how to do it properly, though. 'Blood...' moves in fits and starts but without unity and resolve. The viewer is kept relatively engaged, at least up until two thirds of the way in, but too many potentially fascinating threads evaporate into thin air. The climax doesn't work, with the final freeze frame a staple cop-out of the time.
There's always been lots of praise for the performances in the piece. I'm not convinced. Much standard theatrical emoting is in evidence. Patrick Wymark has a great voice and odd manner, but feels like he's on auto pilot. Linda Hayden widens her eyes and licks her lips lasciviously the best way she can. Sundry villagers fret and gurn.
There are some chilling moments: a couple of oldies excitedly look on at an adolescent rape/murder (still v. unpleasant), and something nasty comes up through the floorboards of Simon Williams' room.
Overall it deserves its "oh yeah, I remember that bit - what was the title again?" status.
The film was originally conceived as a portmanteau piece, with three separate stories. The makers then decided to link the tales with a common location: a 16th century rural community. They didn't quite figure out how to do it properly, though. 'Blood...' moves in fits and starts but without unity and resolve. The viewer is kept relatively engaged, at least up until two thirds of the way in, but too many potentially fascinating threads evaporate into thin air. The climax doesn't work, with the final freeze frame a staple cop-out of the time.
There's always been lots of praise for the performances in the piece. I'm not convinced. Much standard theatrical emoting is in evidence. Patrick Wymark has a great voice and odd manner, but feels like he's on auto pilot. Linda Hayden widens her eyes and licks her lips lasciviously the best way she can. Sundry villagers fret and gurn.
There are some chilling moments: a couple of oldies excitedly look on at an adolescent rape/murder (still v. unpleasant), and something nasty comes up through the floorboards of Simon Williams' room.
Overall it deserves its "oh yeah, I remember that bit - what was the title again?" status.