SLEEPWALKER (1984)

Pass The Marmalade's crowning glory. To this day I'm so proud that this website was the prime mover in rediscovering Saxon Logan's excellent 1984 film SLEEPWALKER - leading to a great friendship, travels around the UK to screen the movie, and ultimately the eye-popping Blu-ray release courtesy of the BFI's 'Flipside' boutique label.

The full story about SLEEPWALKER's exhumation has been told many times, not least by me. But now we have revived Marmalade as a functioning site, our blog is an ideal place to re-tell the tale one more time. Here, then, is my account of the saga (originally published in the Headpress book 'Creeping Flesh vol. 1'), followed by a letter of thanks written by Saxon to the organisers of the Festival of Fantastic Films after we arranged a screening there in 2002.

My experience of watching the BFI Blu-ray was unique; they saw fit to record an interview with Saxon, encompassing his entire career (working as assistant to Lindsay Anderson, filming shorts and acclaimed documentaries, etc), running over 70 minutes - some twenty-plus minutes longer than the main attraction! Towards the end of the chat, Saxon mentions the unearthing of SLEEPWALKER, and bursts into tears at the mention of my name! Maybe not the first time that has happened, but at least occurring in a positive way and for all the right reasons on this particular occasion!

If you have never seen SLEEPWALKER, then stop reading and go and seek it out. A searing slice of heated political cinema, of which there have been far too few examples within British production, as well as a satire that pinpoints all of its targets, and a damn good time if you're just looking for a scary movie. It'a always a pleasure to uncover a forgotten title from the UK - all the more so when it genuinely turns out to be a lost classic.

So, here follows my original account of how SLEEPWALKER made its way out of cold storage and on to your screen:

NO SLEEP TIL MANCHESTER! - the curious history of Saxon Logan's 'SLEEPWALKER'

by Darrell Buxton

Full supporting programme. Three words which struck terror into the hearts of provincial cinemagoers throughout the 1970s and early 1980s, promising as they did the icy threat of a dread-filled hour comprising tacky ads ('King Cone', anyone?), trailers which all seemed to feature the same growling voiceover (you know the one), and most painful of all, the short. Ah, the short. A holdover from the days of the 'quota' system, designed to ensure that British fleapits played a fair proportion of home-grown product, and a means for any Tom, Dick, or Harry with access to a camera, a few thousand quid, and a mate in the business who could secure Warren Clarke or Gabrielle Drake for two days work, to get their 25-minute epics up on screen - to the vast annoyance of a horde of paying punters eagerly awaiting the new Bond instalment or Irwin Allen catastrophe. The news was not all bad, however, and the occasional gem surfaced from the morass. Sture Rydman's exquisite and elegantly-crafted Bierce-based frighteners THE RETURN and THE MAN AND THE SNAKE, Stanley Long's delirious THAT'S THE WAY TO DO IT, and the fang-in-cheek parody VAMPYR all gave audiences an unexpected bonus half-hour of entertainment prior to the main feature attraction. And suddenly it was over. The withdrawal of government funding in the early days of Mrs. Thatcher's tenure killed off the short format, along with much of our beloved 'film industry', without remorse. Meanwhile, however, in a small corner of Hampshire, a young associate of Lindsay Anderson, one Saxon Logan, toiled away on a 49-minute featurette whose promise was to remain unfulfilled for almost 2 decades…

I first encountered the title SLEEPWALKER in issue #10 of Harvey Fenton's esteemed fringe-dweller's bible, 'Flesh & Blood'. Harvey and contributors were busy compiling a completist's guide to the modern British horror movie (eventually to develop into the essential tome 'Ten Years Of Terror'), and Kim Newman had hauled up distant memories of Saxon's movie from the recesses of his trivia-cluttered mind. Kim claimed to have attended a press screening of SLEEPWALKER in early 1985, and offered a tantalising description of what he referred to as "the most obscure horror movie ever made in Britain". At the time, I was hard at work collating information for my own U.K. horror filmography, an ever-expanding beast presently harnessed on the web under the banner 'Pass The Marmalade', and duly listed SLEEPWALKER, albeit as an example of a title I never expected to actually see.

Before too long, however, my suspicions got the better of me. Kim is noted for his affectionate refashioning of genre concepts and clichés, not to mention his meticulous attention to detail, and I began to ponder whether the unknown SLEEPWALKER might be a concoction of his own devising, created to confuse and bewilder fellow researchers. Had he made the whole thing up? After all, 'Saxon Logan' sounded a most unlikely, possibly anagrammatical or otherwise significant signature; the 'Flesh & Blood' review also claimed the film to be a battleground upon which the social dramas epitomised by 'Play For Today' collided roughly with the red-raw nu-horror represented by FRIDAY THE 13TH and its ilk; and surely the likes of Fulton Mackay and Michael Medwin would have had better things to do with their time than involve themselves in a project of this nature? The clincher for me was Kim's bizarre claim that the award-winning Scottish director Bill Douglas, best-known for his grimly nostalgic trilogy MY CHILDHOOD/MY AIN FOLK/MY WAY HOME, should appear in one of the lead roles! I was convinced - surely this was no more than a playful fancy, a clever hoax on Kim's part? Deciding to retain the film's entry on my website, I nonetheless added a codicil indicating my doubts about SLEEPWALKER's authenticity, as well as putting out a rather hopeful request for any further information/confirmation. And for the next two years, that was that…

Until, upon accessing my e-mails one evening in January 2002, I was staggered to receive a message from Saxon Logan himself! Apparently a friend had spotted Saxon's name on my website while browsing, and contacted him to inform him that some herbert was claiming that neither he nor his movie actually existed! Fortunately, Saxon seemed to see the funny side of all this and was most amiable about the entire matter. For my part, once I'd recovered from the initial surprise, my natural response was that if SLEEPWALKER was genuine, could there be the slightest possibility that we might get to view it one day? To my delight, Saxon revealed that he had a 35mm print of the film stashed away at home, and that following a few scattered screenings in the mid-80s, he had virtually expunged the entire project from memory. Before long, and with my encouragement and assistance, the print was dredged up out of storage and we arranged a private showing of SLEEPWALKER in February 2002, staged at Paul Cotgrove's preview theatre at the British Council offices just off London's Oxford Circus. This event, attended by various associates of Saxon, plus a handful of Gothique Film Society members rounded up by yours truly, proved a minor triumph, especially when the film's executive producer Robert Breare turned up just after the start of the movie, having flown in from Paris for the show.

Saxon had already sent me a VHS copy of SLEEPWALKER, so I knew exactly what I was in for - the film's main quartet comprise a ruthless, high-flying Thatcherite, his troubled wife, and a socialist brother-and-sister couple who have inherited a crumbling mansion estate significantly named 'Albion' (and hence representing 'Britain in microcosm', for the more allegorically-minded viewer). Opposing viewpoints are established in the powerful first half of the story, with a heated political debate leaving everyone mistrusting everybody else once each individual's dogma has been presented, analysed, and dismissed; meanwhile, comments about sleep traumas and an unconscious murder attempt offer the first stirrings of the strong genre content which is to follow. The atmosphere gets progressively stranger overnight at the old dark house, ultimately leading to the gruesome deaths of three of the party - but have the horrific murders taken place in reality, or in some nightmare world? The film's climactic shot is reminiscent of Siegel's great political sf classic INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS, with definite echoes of Kevin McCarthy's desperation contained within Bill Douglas' terrified admonition "Wake up! Wake up!" (aimed at his on-screen killer sister, but on an entirely different level, a screaming protest against 1980s apathy, targeted directly toward the audience). It was with some trepidation that Saxon unspooled the film in February, but SLEEPWALKER's social message - and, for that matter, its ghastly violence - proved extremely contemporary and resonant, and the event was judged a great success by all who attended. Excited by this, Saxon and myself put out feelers in an attempt to drum up further interest in bringing SLEEPWALKER to a wider audience. All credit to the late Harry Nadler, whose lifelong enthusiasm for fantastic cinema ensured that our offer to take SLEEPWALKER to this year's Festival Of Fantastic Films in Manchester was warmly and whole-heartedly accepted, and to Tony Edwards who helped co-ordinate the presentation of the film at the Festival following Harry's passing.

SLEEPWALKER was shown at the Festival Of Fantastic Films at 6 p.m. on Saturday August 31st 2002, in the early-evening slot following the Festival's annual (and hugely entertaining!) auction, presided over by Ramsey Campbell. Ramsey's ebullience and joie de vivre always attracts a sizeable throng, a fact from which we certainly benefited, since many of those present for the auction appear to have stayed seated afterwards, curious to witness this 'lost' gem of British horror, being presented to an audience for the first time since 1986. Once again, the film seemed to excite and capture the interest of those present, with nostalgia buffs enjoying the on-screen appearance of Raymond Huntley, Michael Medwin and Fulton Mackay, gorehounds salivating at the final reel's parade of bloody mayhem, and the socially-aware appreciating the finer points of the literate screenplay and the political underpinnings. Saxon's mentor throughout his early film/television career was the legendary, humanist, British director Lindsay Anderson (best man at Saxon's wedding and helmer of the magnificent O LUCKY MAN! on which the teenage Saxon worked as an assistant), and clearly the master's influence had rubbed off on his pupil, as SLEEPWALKER shares with Anderson's BRITANNIA HOSPITAL an acute awareness of genre and its importance in the history of British film culture, deftly managing to interlace elements of classic English terror into a 'state of the nation' satire. Indeed, might SLEEPWALKER have even been somewhat ahead of its time? Audience member Mark Renshaw (whose own short film I AM PETER CUSHING, winner of the 'best amateur short' award at this year's Festival, similarly toys with viewer expectations and the conventions of Hammer horror to fine comic effect) stood up to praise SLEEPWALKER and to comment in particular on the movie's splendid 'restaurant' sequence, comparing the scene's snappy dialogue and character interaction to the hip 90s-defining work of Quentin Tarantino, no less! I wonder what Mr. Tarantino would make of SLEEPWALKER…

As for the future, Saxon and myself are continuing to present SLEEPWALKER at venues around the U.K., and perhaps beyond - with tentative discussions also underway concerning the possibility of a release on video or DVD. From Saxon's basement to the shelves of your local Woolworth's - who knows? It's been a long, strange journey.

Here's Saxon's letter of thanks to Gil Lane-Young and Tony Edwards following the Manchester Festival of Fantastic Films screening:

Dear Gil & Tony

I'm writing to express my enormous delight with this year's Festival in Manchester. I have little compunction in praising the event. It was wonderful.

Sleepwalker had a marvellous reception at the Berlin Film Festival when first shown. In fact it was held over for further unscheduled screenings during the course of it and awarded as a result. My disappointment on returning to Britain to find little interest in it is something I have lived with for some 16 years now - and then via Darrell's website, (you can imagine my suprise) the film is provided with a further screening courtesy of this year's Festival of Fantastic Film. I approached this opportunity with immense trepidation only to find the event provided generous support and sincere enthusiasm.

If Sleepwalker has a future as a film it will be in large part due to the screening at the 13th Festival of Fantastic Film in Manchester. I was overwhelmed by the interest and attention given to it at this venue. I will never tire of singing this event's praise but more so of those who attended the festival. The history and future of film rests solely with its audience. As a filmmaker I treasure each and every one of these individuals. Bravo! Struggle on and long may you last as a festival.

All good wishes

Saxon Logan