In 1947, noted Satanist Aleister Crowley dies. In Cambridge, 43 years later, with the help of a computer, Crowley's spirit takes over the body of Haddo, a mild-mannered, stuttering don. Over four days, as Crowley prepares for an occult extravaganza, bodies pile up, Crowley's elect engage in rites of passage, and Lia, a red-headed campus reporter, sniffs out a story that puts her in grave danger. Mathers, a scientist recently arrived from Cal Tech, may hold the key to her destiny. Written by
In the newspaper article about the "massage parlour atrocity", there are a few typos and editing errors such as "She was know [sic] to be into the occult...", "there are suspicion [sic] that this is [sic] terrible event is in someway [sic] linked..." and the like, and the third-last sentence ends abruptly: "The tutor has a shaven head and according to girls who work at the parlour he carries a cane which he violently." See more »
Why do you not take my laws seriously?
"Do what thou wilt. Love is the law, love under will."
Who is it you think you are?
Victor, who is it you think I am?
You are Oliver Haddo. H-A-D-D-O, Haddo.
Oh, Victor, would you deny me thrice before the cock grows?
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On the seventh day the king gave me a golden medal, bearing on one side the words ART IS THE PRIESTESS OF NATURE and on the other NATURE IS THE DAUGHTER OF TIME.
Given what a filthy, perverted, deviant 'beast' Aleister Crowley was, it's not surprising to find that this film, in which the influential 1920s occultist is a central figure, is packed full of all kinds of depravity. It is this wanton debauchery that will undoubtedly draw in the punters, along with the involvement of legendary heavy metal singer Bruce Dickinsonbut be warned... without an in-depth knowledge of sexual magick and the philosophy of Thelema (Crowley's religion), the majority of this film will probably make no sense whatsoever (although I also suspect that even devout Crowley acolytes will be non-plussed by most of what they see).
My limited knowledge of the subject matter certainly meant that I didn't have a clue what was going on for much of the time, and I found the stuff about the super computer and the virtual reality cyber-suit even more inexplicable; this inaccessibility led to utter confusion which ultimately led to utter boredom, despite such lurid weirdness as Simon Callow sending a very unusual message via fax, a whore nailed to a door (hey, that rhymes!), Callow peeing over his students during an unconventional lecture about Shakespeare's Hamlet, and a pan-sexual satanic orgy featuring people doing all manner of unspeakably naughty things.
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