The Blood on Satan's Claw May Be Folk Horror's Most Subversive Movie
Before the string of “evil children” took over Hollywood, there was The Blood on Satan’s Claw.
Ever since "folk horror" became part of the genre lexicon, three British films stand out as its "unholy trinity": Witchfinder General (1968), The Wicker Man (1973), and The Blood on Satan's Claw (1971). But while the first two critique religious hypocrisy and draw decidedly sharp lines between their heroes and villains, The Blood on Satan's Claw (released in the U.S. 55 years ago this week) occupies a more surreal, morally gray area: no one in the rustic, tranquil village where the film takes place is safe from the influence of the demonic — especially the children, whose corruption prefigured the onslaught of "evil children" movies that began shortly thereafter.
All three films are disturbing and shocking in their own way — the modern pagans of Summerisle in The Wicker Man practice human sacrifice without hesitation, while the title character of Witchfinder General deploys all kinds of depravity in the name of rooting out “witchcraft” — but The Blood on Satan’s Claw is arguably more circumspect, insidious, and ambiguous. Part of that is unintentional, arising from its rather disjoined nature: The film, directed by Piers Haggard and written by Robert Wynne-Simmons, was originally conceived as an anthology of three short tales, all set within the same village. But the studio (Hammer rival Tigon Productions) mandated that the film tell one story, so Haggard and Wynne-Simmons reworked the trilogy into a single narrative, albeit one that doesn’t always hold together coherently.
This makes for an experience that is both frustrating yet oddly unsettling, as both time and space seem displaced in the isolated, rural 18th-century hamlet on which malevolence comes to bear. The film opens with a local farmer, Ralph Gower (Barry Andrews), unearthing a half-buried, inhuman-looking skull in a field. That sets off a chain reaction of events as various townspeople — most notably the children — start to behave in increasingly alarming ways, while exhibiting strange new clawed limbs or patches of furry skin on their bodies. These turn out to be literal pieces of the demon found in the field, which must be removed from their hosts’ bodies and reassembled so the demon can take its complete physical form again.
While the narrative isn’t always clear, the effect of this supernatural malignancy on the village is all too evident, particularly in its youth. A wealthy local lad, Peter Edmonton (Simon Williams), cuts off his own hand after hallucinating that a claw has emerged from the floor to attack him. The children’s leader, the ironically named Angel Blake (17-year-old Linda Hayden, topping an excellent ensemble), shows up at the local rectory one night to seduce the parish priest (Anthony Ainley), disrobing in front of him in a full-frontal scene that was darkened by American censors. He refuses her advances, so she accuses him of attempted assault. Angel later leads the cult of children to slaughter one boy and then sexually assault and murder the virginal, innocent Cathy Vespers (Wendy Padbury), the latter in a ritualistic scene that is difficult to watch even today.
Scenes from The Blood On Satan's Claw are difficult to watch even today.
The corruption of the village’s youth by a demon (named here as Behemoth) is the centerpiece of the film and its most unnerving aspect, coming just a few years ahead of mainstream Hollywood offerings like The Exorcist, The Omen, and The Other. But the town’s leadership, in the shape of its inept squire (James Hayter) and some of the more gullible villagers, is easily outwitted by its own young ones. In one scene more or less lifted from Witchfinder General, a group of local men throw a woman in the pond to see if she sinks or floats, the latter allegedly proving she’s a witch but only reaffirming their own ignorance. The girl is rescued by the virtuous Ralph, but refuses to retract her allegiance to the demon.
And then there’s the Judge, who’s named only as such in the credits. Played by veteran British character actor Patrick Wymark (in one of two movies released after his passing), the Judge is learned, but unapologetically prudish and moralistic. He’s also skeptical of the supernatural, but upon leaving the village to return to London and conduct further research, he returns in the film’s third act convinced of its presence. Somewhat ominously, he suggests that evil must be allowed a certain amount of room to fester and grow, thus making it easier to root out — a theory borne out when he arrives back in the shattered town and impales the demon with some kind of ritual sword before setting it on fire, while the villagers do the same to Angel.
The film’s final shot is of the Judge’s eyes, blazing with almost religious zeal, as they peer out from behind the rising flames. The implication is that he might now be possessed himself, or could become the kind of zealot that brings ruin, torture, and murder to the innocent in Witchfinder General. Aided by both its eerily bucolic, unspoiled locations and Marc Wilkinson’s haunting score, The Blood on Satan’s Claw suggests that neither innocence nor authority can withstand the encroachment of evil — and that both may in fact welcome it.
