I stumbled across The Resurrected, directed by Dan O’Bannon (Return of the Living Dead), looking for HP Lovecraft adaptations last year. I found the Blu-ray at my favorite local bookstore, and I went into this with pretty low expectations. The cover looked goofy; there were only a few thousand people who had logged it on Letterboxd, to a fairly mixed, if not slightly positive reception. The movie was pretty obscure, and I figured, if this movie was good, it would’ve already developed some sense of a cult following at this point. All signs pointed to this being something forgettable and blase. I ended up being blown away by its assured eccentricity, subversion of tone and genre, and the wild ride it ultimately takes.
The Resurrected is a completely mistreated and underseen gem. The film is an adaptation of the H.P. Lovecraft novella “The Case of Charles Dexter Ward”, and is an electric combination of slow-burn noir and supernatural horror. The film is also incredibly silly, and paired with the enthralling mystery, goopy gore, and southern gothic imagery, it truly feels like a singular creative piece.
The details of The Resurrected’s production and release are a bit hard to come by: from what I can tell, the film was independently financed and shown in a singular film festival, before receiving a very short theatrical run, getting shelved, and eventually dumped straight to DVD in 1991. The unceremonious and lackadaisical treatment of this release left it with no meaningful buzz or platform to be seen. Scream Factory released it on Blu-ray in 2017, but leaving DVD purgatory didn’t substantially elevate or illuminate the film. The closest The Resurrected ever got to a true bump in recognition was its reception of a “Best Video Feature” Chainsaw award in 1992.
The Resurrected opens with a towering house, a thunderstorming night, an ominous Bible verse, and a missing mental patient. The atmosphere and stylistic language are immediately established with self-assurance. Colorful, silly, ominous, and foreboding all in the same breath, this opening sequence is a microcosm of the entire film. Overdramatic line readings and well-orchestrated scene structures, spurts of vibrant gore, breathless investigations. It also plays with Southern Gothic imagery and atmosphere as well. There is no shortage of creative vision to chew on and succumb to.
The sly but subdued southern gumshoe John March (John Terry) is hired by Charles Dexter Ward’s (Chris Sarandon) wife, Claire (Jane Sibbett), to investigate the concerning and shady practices of her husband. In a flashback, explosive experiments hide behind the walls of a study separate from Claire and Charles’ mansion, with its bloody consequences appearing on Charles’ outfits. His mysterious associate Dr. Ash is cloaked in all black, appearing as shady as someone might possibly be. There is clearly something lurking just underneath, but Claire hasn’t been able to crack through. Charles, alongside his two employees, starts to investigate his current, and past, connections.
Terry and Sibbett’s performances are fairly standard, if not completely neutral. Conversely, Sarandon, and the assorted cast of side characters, bring a theatrical energy that doesn’t subside. Sarandon’s performance in particular descends until it explodes in the final act.
The narrative set-up feels standard to something you’d see in a Sherlock Holmes paperback, except there is a clear immediate shift in tone and flourish–the cartoonish color and costuming is brilliantly engaging from the start. The detective DNA of this film is historically something treated with grit and stoicism, but here it feels more like a brightly illustrated comic book.
The immediate subversion of the noir genre only continues with the supernatural nature of this investigation–they have no idea what Ward is up to, but they, and we, know it is eerily otherworldly in nature. The rabbit hole deepens the further we trek: O’Bannon excellently places you in the eyes of March. Every puzzle feels intimate and intimidating, the clues slowly leak in, the greater mystery grows more elusive and dangerous. The excellent camerawork drives this home–we frequently get these long whirling, flowing handheld shots in moments of tension. The editing and camerawork work in lock-step to maintain a pace that never feels too slow or too rushed when it shouldn’t be.
Even beyond the invigorating mystery and the subgenre subversions, another central reason this film deserves more eyes on it is the shocking descent it takes. On my first watch last year, I found it genuinely impossible to guess all the places this ends up going. There are truly some mouth-drop decisions here that make it all the better.
Much of The Resurrected’s charm comes from its idiosyncrasies. The film can be rough around the edges in terms of audio, script, narrative logic, and performance, but these imperfect aspects of the film make it more fun to watch. There are some pretty clear moments of special effects that don’t hold up super well (as much as I love stop-motion, it occasionally looks particularly janky in retrospect). There is clear vision and craft on display, and the unpolished nature of it makes it feel reckless and authentic. The talent behind the camera shows consistently–the camerawork plays with a dichotomy of wide, often crooked, shots and loose, swooping handheld ones to electric success.
Even with the throughline of imperfections, one thing O’Bannon and his crew nailed is the execution of practical effects. This doesn’t overload with blood or gore, but when there are grotesque moments, the practical effects are slimy, goopy, wet, and visceral. What’s happening on screen feels tangible and full of life. With how popular genre-bending body horror films have been over the past few years, this feels like it slots oddly cleanly into the current horror zeitgeist. While watching, I couldn’t help but be reminded of some classic horror movies like Hellraiser (for some of its effects) and Cemetery Man (for its colorful and silly take on the undead), and also some modern ones like The Substance in its literal and metaphorical execution of humans trying to play god.
The Resurrected is ripe for discovery by those who love detective stories, practical effects, silly horror movies, and HP Lovecraft. When I first saw this movie, in April 2025, I really felt like it would benefit from a 4K upgrade. Thankfully, in September, Orbit and Vinegar Syndrome released the film’s first 4K treatment! I truly cannot recommend this hidden gem enough. It is by no means a technically perfect film, but it is a joy to watch regardless, and at the very least, deserves a lot more love.