Review for Warlock (1989)

If you're thinking Warlock's story of two time travellers battling for the future in present day America is familiar, that's because it is. This is after a New World Picture, a film from those loveable B-Movie rascals who's MO was to cheekily recycle more profitable movies to make a fast buck. So just as Jaws begot Piranha and Star Wars led to Battle Beyond the Stars, here it's The Terminator that fuels this 1989 fantasy - with some Highlander and Time after Time throw in for good measure

Following a 17th Century witch hunter's (Richard E Grant) pursuit across time for a minion of the Deeevil (Julian Sands) director Steve Miner (Friday 13th Part 2) keeps events moving briskly. We begin in a snowy New England of famine and plague, before moving at break neck speed to LA's gaudy metropolis. As the revenge driven Witchfinder - stubbled, Scottish - Grant is suitably bemused by the modern world. But while planes, trains and automobiles may set his mind spinning, in a neat touch writer David Twohy proposes a kinship with hip waitress Kassandra (Lori Singer), who's valley speak "you're not local product are ya?" mirrors his own olde worlde patter, "I think I'm far removed."

As the warlock Sands also underplays the usual ham. All glassy detachment, as he calmly inflicts pain and stalks a victim through an empty house, the film flirts with genuine horror. Indeed, despite the low certificate (12 is the UK) Miner can't help dipping into his slasher movie bag, and as a result the film keeps us on edge with various splashes of grue (a bitten of tongue, chopped off fingers, nails through feet). Sands even manages to be sinister while flying (sans broom) - a feat he achieves by eating the boiled fat of unbaptised children. Warlock then is both creepy and fun and what it lacks in originality it sure makes up for in low budget charm.