Psychomania (

1973

)

Using a goat as a symbol of the occult is a tried and true method, both on and off-screen. Goats are used as a proxy for the diabolic in everything from The Devil Rides Out (1968) to The Witch (2015); from highbrow classics like Haxan (1922) to video game shooters like Doom. It’s an effective shorthand for the occult in general and Satanism in particular. So, with that in mind, why on earth would you base your fictional Satanic cult around a frog? I understand that the filmmakers may be going for a Lovecraftian Deep Ones vibe, but in that case, I can imagine all sorts of more grotesque aquatic life forms to use instead of frogs. While there are some dangerous/poisonous frogs from tropical regions, the ones you run into in England are just about the least threatening creature imaginable. These frogs are regularly taken out by housecats. What’s more, the chubby little fellows don’t even invoke a feeling of disgust the way that the various creepy crawlies (worms, centipedes, ticks, etc.) do. Personally, I find them cute in an ugly sort of way, not unlike pugs or French bulldogs. Between this and Frogs (1972) what is up with 1970s exploitation filmmakers thinking frogs and toads were terrifying?

This highly unusual cult is centered on the Latham family, a clan with more skeletons in their closet than the Femms (This Old Dark House (1963)). Mr. Latham disappeared under mysterious circumstances some years ago, and at the same time, his wife gained a mysterious servant with the evocative name of Shadwell. The sole scion, Tom Latham is the head of a local group of motorcycle-riding delinquents called “The Living Dead.” Unlike most mothers in her position, Mrs. Latham is quite happy to encourage her son in his pointless pursuits of vandalism and petty crime, I guess it’s as good an internship as any for the rigors of leading a Satanic cult. Though I have to wonder why he chose to form a biker gang of all things? The movie is set in England, and biker gangs are very much a product of the wide-open spaces and lonely highways of the North American West and Mid-West. Indeed, a quick search online confirmed my suspicions; the vast majority of historical biker gangs were based in America or Canada. I could only find one example (The Blue Angels) of a biker gang on the British Isles. I’m guessing that Tom has probably watched a few too many American imports along the lines of The Wild Angels (1969) and Werewolves on Wheels (1971).

The Living Dead has six members aside from Tom Latham, four of them generic dudes in leather jackets with colorful names (Hatchet, Chopped Meat, Hinky, and Gash). The other two are chicks, Abby and Jane. Abby seems way too sweet and innocent to be in a biker gang, but then again these guys are not exactly the Hell’s Angels, they’re closer to a band of delinquents than a mob of hardened career criminals. Jane, in a nice bit of subversion, is the toughest one in the gang, the most likely to escalate the level of violence and cruelty and the gang’s undisputed number two. Good for director Don Shape, breaking down the gender barrier in the film that says women can’t play sadistic lunatics. The cyclists indulge in the pettiest of petty crimes, tearing around their small town in the English countryside, and doing little worse than being a general nuisance for the locals and the local police. The only thing that distinguishes them from any other thugs is their curious choice in headwear; each member of the gang wears a helmet fitted with a goofy looking visor that makes him or her faintly resemble a skeleton. Personally, I wouldn't have bothered with the get-up, as the effect makes them look more ridiculous than intimidating. The whole thing has the air of a slap-dash Halloween costume.

Tom Latham isn’t content with being a 2-bit criminal though; he wants power and not just the namby-pamby power granted to him by his family’s money and influence. Late one night, Shadwell and Mrs. Latham initiate him into the family mysteries and show him how to follow in his father’s footsteps and return from the dead. It’s here that he sees the demon-frog that serves as the deity to whatever asinine religion his family worships. Of course, Tom can’t return from the dead without first dying, so on the next day’s ride, he deliberately crashes his motorcycle. Tom’s gang buries the (surprisingly intact) body, sitting upright on his motorcycle in a hippy-inspired funeral decked out with flowers and folk music. The folk song they sing seems to be an original composition, which begs the question why? Who thought it was necessary to commission a folk song for a film called Psychomania? Since when is that a necessary component of a horror/exploitation movie? Who is in charge of this, the guy that got all the original music for Silent Night Deadly Night (1984)? Jane doesn’t waste any time asserting her dominance over the gang, but she’s not going to have much time to enjoy the lofty new position, as that night Tom bursts from the grave and commences to raise hell in the most literal way possible.

On the surface, Psychomania sounds like it should be a compelling movie, and once it gets rolling it comes very close to actually engaging. I was genuinely excited when the film opens with misty images of the bikers riding through a pagan ruin (called the seven witches in the film). Their modern rides standing in sharp contrast to the gloomy ancient ruins around them. The problem is, it takes the movie nearly a full hour to deliver on its promise of undead satanic bikers, and even then it’s only Tom all by his lonesome. It will take most of the rest of the film’s runtime for him to get the rest of the gang undead and rolling. What we’re left with is an invincible undead biker gang that only terrorizes the English countryside for about fifteen minutes before they are defeated. To be fair, the brief period where the bikers are unkillable undead abominations is quite good, and even includes a memorable scene where one of the bikers runs down a baby carriage in a crowded supermarket. This is great stuff sure, but there just isn’t enough here. Psychomania is far from the only British horror/exploitation film to have a problem with pacing but it’s the worst example that I’ve seen in a long time.

I’m tempted to see Psychomania as a recruitment tool to get young British men into biker gangs. As I mentioned, there is a dearth of violent motorcycle-riding criminals on the British Isles, and perhaps director Don Sharpe took it upon himself to redress this. Sure, the bikers in the film are all the bad guys and they come to a pretty bad end, but throughout its runtime, the film makes it very clear that women cannot resist a man with a leather jacket and a motorcycle. Take for instance the scene immediately after Tom revives, and he stops in a pub. A girl in there is totally determined to get a ride on his motorcycle, even after he tells her that he’s not interested. She practically forces him to give her a ride on the motorcycle before she will let him go. The message is pretty clear: buy a motorcycle, join a band of delinquents, and you’ll have to beat the women off with a stick. Nor is this the only time it happens in the movie, one of the supporting gang-members gets chatted up by a girl who likes his motorcycle before he commits suicide. Having never owned a motorcycle, or been a young woman, I can’t say just how well the vehicle works as an aphrodisiac. I suspect they're rather less effective than Psychomania would have us believe.