A young New York couple relocates to London. Sarah (Stewart) hopes the move with revitalize their marriage, while Lincoln (Cockle) placates her while his eye is firmly on the revolution of his career. His career is what drove a wedge between them in New York, but Lincoln can’t see past his own ambition and hopes that the new surroundings will prove an adequate distraction for his wife. And, at first, they are – particularly when she finds a pair of embracing mummies entombed in her basement. Soon, even her distracted husband can’t fail to notice the changes about her – her newfound strength and sexuality. Her black outs. Her mood swings that become increasingly more violent…
Robert Pratten’s “London Voodoo” is a welcome change to the gore-heavy indie horror that assaults the rental shelves. The slowly-building tension grabs hold of the viewer right from the start. What’s better is the story, seemingly straight-forward, that anticipates expectations and turns sharply down another path. “London Voodoo” has an attitude towards horror that is truly refreshing: in place of bloody effects, there is character developments; where other movies would place a baffling “voodoo showdown”, Pratten presents a very realistic portrayal of voodoo as a religion and a belief system, with the possession more a metaphor for the changing dynamics of a marriage.
Which is not to imply that the viewer is in for a boring “Lifetime” movie. Rather, “London Voodoo” is a quiet, mature horror film that fills its borders with creeping dread.
