Wake Wood

THE STRANGE resurrection of Hammer Films continues. After their effective but unnecessary remake of Let the Right One In and the largely useless The Resident, the once iconic imprint strikes back with this Border county rendition of the Deranged Village Melodrama.

Stop us if you've heard this one before. A middle-class urban couple moves in to a pretty, if strange locale. Everyone seems nice at first, but before long pagan rituals are taking place beneath the sacred yew tree. Imagine a stew made from Pet Cemetery, The Wicker Man and Don't Look Now and you'll have some idea where Wake Woodis coming from.

It's as properly freaky as that list suggests. Directed by David Keating, who gave us The Last of the High Kings 15 years ago, Wake Woodfinds Patrick (Aiden Gillen), a vet, and his wife Louise (recidivist scream-queen Eva Birthhistle) relocating to the Irish northwest after a mad dog fatally savages their daughter. Patrick's boss turns out to be Arthur, a bluff, jolly man – all tweed and cavalry twills – given flesh by a typically game Timothy Spall.

In a scene that strays a little too close to League of Gentleman territory, the couple later catch Arthur and the locals engaging in some awful bloodthirsty rite with something like the Abacus of Destiny.

Not surprisingly, the heroes are minded to return to the comforts of civilisation. But they are tempted back by a macabre suggestion from Arthur. He can raise their daughter from the dead. There are, however, catches that would appeal to the Brothers Grimm: the resurrection is only temporary, it only works if the child is dead less than a year, and (huge minor chord!) they must not leave the village.

It’s all pretty silly. But the script contains more than enough bracing reversals and the sombre Ulster skies to help sustain the suffocating sense of cow-dung gothic. Most importantly, the cast have the wit to attack every scene with admirable seriousness. There are certainly moments of unintended hilarity with the supposedly maggoty residents of deepest Donegal, but the three principals keep it real by playing it like they’re doing Pinter.

It wouldn’t be folk-horror hokum otherwise.