“It isn’t justice you seek... it’s blood…”

Until 10 minutes from the end, House Of The Long Shadows is a fantastic film - and not just because of the awesome cast. Unfortunately the ludicrous ending, followed by another ending, followed by another one, ruin the previous 90 minutes utterly. I'd suggest that when you get to the point where Christopher Lee asks Desi Arnaz Jr if he's learned anything, you switch it off, take it out of the VCR, lock it in a lead-lined cupboard and throw away the key - trust me. Suffice to say that 90 minutes of Cushing, Lee, Price, some bloke called Carradine (this is a JOKE*), some terrific gory deaths, tons of atmosphere and a gripping storyline are wiped from the memory by what can only be described as a sub-Murder She Wrote finale. You have been warned.

House Of The Long Shadows was the last genre film maverick director Pete Walker made. The legacy he's left behind - Flesh And Blood Show, House Of Whipcord, Frightmare, House Of Mortal Sin, The Comeback, Schizo, speaks for itself. This could have been a fitting, star-packed finale to a run of fantastic films. Not only did he get big bucks to spend on it, but a cast to dream of. Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee and Vincent Price - not to mention Brit horror irregular John Carradine - all looking old, but all on top form. And it's also got Walker favourite Sheila Keith in it, who, much like a female Cushing, seems to have never put in a bad performance. It's got a lot going for it script-wise as well - young writer makes a bet with his publisher that he can't write a blockbuster in 24 hours, disappears off to a dodgy old manor in the heart of Wales, and comes across strange goings-on there.

Walker, as he weaves the different story strands, appears to be in his element. The tension is actually palpable as strange noises are heard, and what exactly are Keith and Carradine up to? There aren't supposed to be any caretakers there...

As the Grisbanes, our three British horror stars are given the chance to shine, too, all get marvellous lightning-lit entrances, the flamboyant Price announcing "I have returned..."

Cushing's performance is brilliant as ever as a lisping drunk, Lee gets the chance to act, and Price is mellower and more reserved than usual, but still a force to be reckoned with.

Considering its PG rating, the film is a typical Walker-esque gore-fest, too. There's throat cuttings, eye gougings, hangings, axe batterings and even a gruelling acid-in-the-face scene. In fact, it's far more brutal than many supposedly X-rated films.

House Of The Long Shadows could have been the last great creation of the ailing British horror film industry, a grand bowing-out by Walker and the three names synonymous with the genre. Unfortunately, something quite horrific happened to it - is there anything worse than something that almost literally ends with "...and it was all a dream"...?

*This seemingly innocuous statement has caused me no end of grief since it was included in the original review back in two-thousand-and-mumblety-something. Yes, I know who John Carradine was. Yes, I know he had an amazing career in horror films, but they were mainly American rather than the British films his colleagues were known for… and that’s kind of what makes it a wry bon mot. Oh, please yourselves.