The token attempt at depth is Ed's anxiety over his past or future war record -- he hallucinates a child suicide bomber at the rave, and is carting around his Dad's union jack (with which he spears Malech at one point) in Necro's hearse. Three or four moments suggest some thought (as when a passenger asks why anyone would want a radio in a hearse), but dialogue mostly ranges from 'f*ck*n c*nt f*ck*n' pretend-tough nonsense to ludicrously melodramatic mock-ancient pronouncements from Lilith's cracked old vampire uncle (Alexander Newland).


These clubbing bloodsuckers are more in the tradition of Blade, Near Dark or The Thirst than, say, Kiss of the Vampire or Dracula -- Prince of Darkness -- which is not necessarily a bad thing, though it would have been nice to have at least one new idea in here somewhere. The structure is inhibiting: the shaggy dog one-gruesome-gag-per-episode style of When Evil Calls might not have made for high art, but was workable in a horror comic context. Here, there's an attempt at a more coherent storyline but a plot which takes place in a few hectic hours was doled out online over weeks (even watched as a clump, the film stutters rather than progresses).

This hampers the development of suspense -- let alone the mood of dread necessary for a proper scary film. Noone, so good in The Descent, is stuck with a conventional whiny girly role, and Dornan's potentially interesting hero suffers because the film can't slow down to let his neuroses register. Rave-style jumpy editing also precludes the gothic atmospherics which ought to come with the brand name, making these monsters seem like poseurs with fangs starring in a pop promo.


To be fair, when fashions in music, clothes and hairstyles change, Beyond the Rave -- it's a silly niggle, but what a pity the title riffs on an Amicus picture -- might pick up the nostalgic, faintly camp appeal of Hammer's Dracula AD 1972 -- though that had Stephanie Beacham and Caroline Munro going for it, not to mention the folks most obviously missed here, the late Peter Cushing and the unaffordable Christopher Lee. If your classiest cast name is Sadie Frost, it's a fair bet you're not going for the original Hammer's transgressive mix of respectable bourgeois actors with decadent sex-horror material and an English gothic tradition.

Obviously, what fans want (and what British horror culture needs) is a revitalised Hammer Films making quality theatrically-released gothics which respect the great tradition while connecting with today's audiences. Over the years, various films would have made sense as contemporary Hammer films -- Mary Reilly, Interview With the Vampire, Dog Soldiers, Eden Lake. In the mean time, Beyond the Rave feels like an ephemeral footnote to a great tradition rather than a full-blooded gothic revival. Next up for the company, apparently, is a TV series.