This year saw the fine folks at Headpress releasing Cannibal Error by David Kerekes & David Slater- the truly definitive and wholly fascinating chronicling of the so-called ‘video nasties’ phenomena/era. The book is a revised, reworked and expanded edition of the year 2000 book See No Evil — pushing the original page count up from four hundred to nearly six hundred pages. I tracked down one of the book’s authors David Kerekes for an email interview —discussing the book, and his personal history with the video nasties.

M[m] When/ how did you and David Slater first meet? And what triggered you to write together? And do you have firm roles when writing together?

DK Fittingly, we met because of the 'video nasties'. I was looking for a couple of films and placed a free classified ad in the pages of one of the video magazines, the done thing at the time. This was the late eighties; I had seen the films in question reviewed in Shock Xpress and liked the sound of them.

David contacted me on the back of that, having the two films I was looking for, and we chatted on the phone. It turned out he didn’t live too far away, on the other side of Manchester, and we discovered that for years the two of us had been regularly haunting the same places around the city centre, respectively buying up the cool stuff, but oddly never having met. 

Our method of writing tends to be we'll meet up and chat about what we intend to do, who should write what, and then combine our work in progress, iron things out, and explore further avenues that might materialise, should anything else materialise.

M[m] Please talk about how the idea of the original/ first version of the book came about?

DK We were first and foremost horror film fans at a time when the introduction of commercial video technology opened a new chapter for horror film fans, bringing many independent and obscure movies to the UK. In the respect of home entertainment, video was the new Super 8 although neither of us had collected Super 8.

We witnessed the 'video nasties' debacle unfolding and saw how the double standards of 'moral guardians' stirred fear and panic through the media, and how the ensuing backlash against some not-altogether-very-competent films caused an explosion of interest in horror and exploitation, as well as creating a cottage industry in tape trading and collecting — something unlikely to have existed to the same extent had there been no campaign to outlaw the so-called 'video nasties'.

It was almost inevitable that we should write a book on the back of this, a deep dive into anti-film propaganda of this era. See No Evil (the title of the original edition of Cannibal Error) was intended as a serious study from the perspective of two fans, with a tip of the hat to the book edited by Martin Barker, The Video Nasties, the first book to emerge on the subject, while at the same time respectful of the zines and fan writers that surrounded us. 

M[m] what were the triggers that made you do the new edition of the book & how long did it take to become a reality?

DK See No Evil had been out of print for some years, which was the fundamental reason behind bringing it back. But so much has changed with regards to film classification since the ‘video nasties’ days that a straight reprint didn’t strike either Dave S or myself as the way to go. The new edition strives to do two things: serve as a time capsule for an era that is passed, so bizarre and incendiary that it now seems difficult to imagine it could ever have existed in the first place. The new edition also gives the BBFC a chance to have its say, the view from the ‘inside’ as it were; there are several interviews with members of the Board in Cannibal Error, including BBFC CEO, David Austin. The BBFC was aware of the first edition and at one point carried a copy in its library, and so I think was very happy to oblige us with interviews. It was a conscious decision to keep the essence of the original book unchanged; so much has since been written about the ‘nasties’ and that era but we, as authors, were there, and it felt important to keep that contemporary voice. The new material, which is substantial, appears in an expanded appendix.

M[m] The early part of the book looks at the development of the video market in the late 70’s — what are some of your personal memories regarding this time? And what was your local video shop like?

DK I recall the first video rental store that opened in the small town where I lived and spending some time after work debating what film to hire, or simply looking at the sleeves on display. It wasn't a big store, had a counter at the far end, up a couple of steps, posters for a Peter Weller movie on a wall behind the counter, a TV on the wall showing trailers or playing a film. There was a smell of furniture polish. My younger brother had a membership card long before me, this before we even owned a video player. Video players were highly desirable and expensive, and a friend of his had given him theirs to look after while away on holiday. The first film he hired was Can You Keep It Up For a Week? a 1974 British sex comedy, and also a great disappointment to my brother, given the video ‘filth’ he had been reading about in the press in relation to video and had been expecting!

Many years later, when the bottom was falling out of video, the owner of the store waxed lyrical about the halcyon days, how there was a queue every Monday morning along the high street of people returning tapes. Tapes could be hired overnight, or for two nights. On another occasion there was a customer unhappy about the film Trainspotting (1966), which was a big deal at the time and had recently been released on video. The customer told the owner he hadn't expected to pay good money to watch a fella crawl out of a toilet covered in shit. Incidentally, Trainspotting director Danny Boyle comes from the town where I grew up, Radcliffe, the location of the video shop in question. The local papers would run him on the front page whenever a new film of his came out: local boy does good kind of thing.

The other local video rental store was several miles away. This had a larger selection of films and here I got my first inkling of quite how serious the 'video nasties' backlash had become. This was the mid-1980s. Some of the films they carried a week earlier had disappeared from the shelves and when I enquired after them was told the films had been  ‘banned’ — not exactly the case, but a clear indication of the ambiguity surrounding the ‘nasties’ and how some stores were not taking chances and feared prosecution. I wrote a letter to Greater Manchester Police after that for clarification.

M[m] One of the book's prime focuses is the Video Recordings Act 1984 and the ‘video nasties’ list. What do you think might have happened in two different alternative realities- firstly if the act hadn’t come in? and secondly, or if the even stricter laws had come in- which would have seen great sways of films banned/censored?

DK If the Video Recordings Act 1984 hadn't come in? Likely I would still be watching Universal classic monster movies.

M[m]: The film titles on the video nasty list are a decidedly mixed bunch in terms of quality. Please pick say two of worse titles, and two of the best titles in the list?- detailing with each choice you’re reasoning.

DK It's all relative but I feel there is a nebulous thread running through much of the 'nasties' list, holding it together, comprising low production values, non-acting, debased cinematography, etc. This is part of its charm. Some of what might be termed 'worse' films I rather enjoy: Night of the Demon (1980) is thoroughly entertaining. I watched it recently with someone not at all familiar with 'nasties' or low budget gore and they took it in a spirit that was lacking when I was hunting down these films for myself; they confessed to not being able to take their eyes off it, laughing out loud at the outrageous humour, which becomes more obvious as time goes on and when watched 'straight' like this. Not so entertaining is Suffer Little Children (1983), the camcorder exercise that was controversial for being a horror film shot in a British drama school starring children. Like many of the 'nasties' it is now widely available, this one turning up on Amazon Prime. Not entertaining, but fascinating.

M[m] For the new edition of the book decided to strip out a large part of the synopsis/ plot descriptions for the nasty reviews- why did you decide to do this?

DK When the original edition was published, most of the films on the ‘nasties’ list were not legally available, not in Britain. The lengthy synopses were important because the films themselves weren’t available. This is no longer the case; there are new collectors, as well as existing collectors, and an explosion of low-budget, horror and exploitation films remastered and packaged for Blu-ray from a variety of cult labels —once banished films are not so banished anymore! The majority of the ‘video nasties’ are legally available in Britain, so the lengthy synopses were dropped for the sake of pacing and length.

M[m] Following on from the last questions these synopsis/ plot descriptions have been now reissued as the download-only 176-page book Last Orgy By The Cemetery. Please talk a little bit about why you decided to release this, and any plans for a ltd print pressing of it?

DK We actually like the lengthy synopses, albeit they didn’t have a place in Cannibal Error. They are incredibly detailed, and also rather funny, outlining the plots of sometimes terrible films in a formal, no-nonsense manner. We didn’t want to lose them entirely but, as noted, there was no longer a place for them in the revised book; a standalone volume seemed a good way to go. Last Orgy By The Cemetery is currently available as an eBook only, but anyone purchasing a copy of Cannibal Error on headpress.com will get it as a free download. As we say in the introduction to Last Orgy…, the films are presented without critical analysis, but instead might be considered a nostalgic reverie for those who don’t have the fortitude to sit through the films again.

M[m]: What are your thoughts on the growth of the pre-cert VHS market? And some of the very high-priced titles are now changing hands for?

DK If I still owned a copy of The Beast in Heat (1977) I'd sell it.

M[m]: Do you both personally collect old VHS’s? And if so, what are some of the items you are most proud of?

DK Both David and myself offloaded our videocassette collections long ago. Magnetic tape has a comparatively short life and once DVDs came in, and with them the availability of many of these films in higher quality (perhaps  debatable with some of the early DVDs) there was less reason to hang onto the tapes. I hung onto a couple for posterity, Death Bed: The Bed That Eats (1977) being one. But for the most part this and others are now widely available and so the kick is gone.

M[m] what are your thoughts on the documentaries & films that have been influenced by the video nasty period, for example recently the 2021 film Censor?

DK There is still a lot of interest, along with a growing sense that the ‘video nasties’ and that era is an anachronism, an enigma, which is one reason why it continues to be investigated. We will also see it increase as a creative influence on art and artists, as per Censor.

M[m]: Any thoughts on future books you’d both like to work on together?

DK We have a couple of ideas but it’s too soon to say what.

M[m]: Do you still take an active interest in the modern horror genre? And if so, what have been some of the titles that have impacted you in the five or so years?

DK I do take notice. But so many major films are formulaic and safe that I find it difficult to muster the energy to sit through them let alone talk about them. It became a case for me that if a new movie contained an image or a scene that stood out, then I wouldn't feel entirely robbed of my 90 minutes. There are exceptions: Men (2022), I liked. Dream Scenario (2023), I liked…

Thanks to David for his time & efforts with the interview. To order the book directly from Headpress drop by here.