The various levels of success, lack thereof included, of John Carpenter's bigger productions in the 80s triggered his return to the realm of low-budget B-movies. After having made several movies on the blockbuster wave (The Thing, Escape from New York, Big Trouble in Little China), Carpenter wanted to recapture the control, feel and atmosphere that he had back in his indie days, on which his name and fame is based (Assault on Precinct 13 and, most notably, his breakthrough slasher Halloween). With a budget of three million dollars and 30 shooting days to go with, Prince of Darkness marks that return. And in one little strike of genius, John Carpenter not only pays homage to the lush heyday of Italian horror and the supernatural religious movies that spawned from the likes of The Exorcist, he also superbly concludes and subtly caps a movie era while at the same time quietly setting its peak norm. This much overlooked little flick turns out to be one fine horror story.

A brief story outline: an old priest dies, his hands clutched around a little silver casket. He leaves a mysterious diary and a terrible secret. As his successor (Donald Pleasence) researches the dead priest's legacy, he finds out that the secret is not only pure evil in essence (literally!) but can also no longer be kept. At the same time, famous physics professor Dr. Howard Birack (Victor Wong) senses mysterious changes in the world around him. They join forces to analyze and ultimately battle the terrible ordeal awaiting.

John Carpenter does everything right in this little masterpiece. The pacing is perfect. He slowly builds up his story, providing just enough scientific subtext to make contextual sense with it. There's a sense of dread right from the start and, supported by Carpenter's own superb score, the build-up doesn't feel slow at all. Quite the contrary, the viewer gets sucked into the movie and is subjected to the movie's gradually increasing pace and pressure until it reaches a near-crazy level at the end.

Carpenter's work is not known for its gore, but this movie has some, and gloriously so I might add. Maggots and other creepy crawlies abound, in fact, loads of them -- Fulci devotees will love this stuff. The movie isn't really a gorefest, but certain scenes with the female researcher destined to give birth to Satan's son require some stomach reinforcement to watch, as does the poor scientist who decomposes into maggots.

The lush lighting and compelling musical underscore remind of Dario Argento in his best of forms. Carpenter really brings his own unique cinematographic style to perfection here. Empty spaces look full, crammed spaces feel empty, and there's an omnipresent, throat-grabbing sense of desolation and dread.

Gary B. Kibbe's camerawork (Carpenter's stalwart cinematographer from this movie onward) is spot-on. Inside the church, the images have a warm, golden overtone providing a gothic feel. The urban world outside the church is cold and grey, ready to receive the doom that's given birth to, and complements the isolation inside the church.

Donald Pleasance is outstanding in this film. He gives the priest a "Loomis"-like tormented personality, but he's not as obsessed, and he's more deliberate than his Halloween character. Actually, he doesn't really have a lot of dialogue to go with at all. Some of his scenes are even muted, only carried by the score, but his acting is so effective and powerful here that whatever is said shouldn't necessarily be heard -- which fits in perfectly with the movie's theme.

Pleasance meets his peer in Victor Wong, who portrays a skeptical scientist who slowly gets sucked into the inexplicable religious mayhem around him. His thoughts, questions and doubts spawn from his forehead, again without a word said. Other acting performances vary from acceptable to occasionally pedestrian (Jameson Parker, in particular, is representative of the latter). Pete Jason adds some comic relief with his juggling and mouth-trombone side gags in this otherwise heavy movie.

The movie's scientific subtext may not be entirely comprehensible to every viewer (Schrödinger's cat, anyone?), but is otherwise accurate. It's not too complicated for non-physicists to be able to see the intelligence with which Carpenter has woven this into his story. Unlike most of his other movies, he raises a few thought-provoking philosophical issues here. He subtly puts the historical religious monopoly on discerning good from evil at issue and puts it in a broad philosophical context. There is no cause to evil, it's there just because there's good. One justifies the other. You can try to battle one with the other but without darkness, there can be no light. And vice versa: Carpenter almost sarcastically exposes this in the ending sequence when religion (embodied by Donald Pleasance's priest character, who aptly remains nameless) claims that good will always prevail thanks to religion, in spite of the support it received from other disciplines like science. The "it" and "anti-it" are constantly at issue on several planes throughout the movie, both in ample discussions between Birack and the priest, and woven through the very plot itself. Carpenter doesn't answer all the questions he raises; he leaves some to the viewer to ponder.

John Carpenter's Prince of Darkness is a religious horror movie. It's also a zombie movie. And also a haunted house movie. It's everything horror has to offer except werewolves, vampires and sundry monsters. Instead, it has a nice and dreadful Alice Cooper (whose manager Shep Gordon is executive producer of this movie) cameo to make up for that. It's John Carpenter's ultimate masterpiece and an all-time gem. It just has to be seen. Right up until the ending that will make you jump like never before.