Director Simon Aeppli dives into a strange chapter of British history that blends the supernatural with military intrigue. In the 1970s, the British Isles were buzzing with fascination for the occult. Traditional Christian practices were fading, while neo-Paganism gained ground. At the same time, horror films from Hammer Studios ruled the box office. Shortly thereafter, whispers of a “Satanic Panic” began to emerge.
Not far from Aeppli’s childhood home in Carrickfergus, British intelligence officer Colin Wallace had a unique mission: to stir fear among the locals. The idea was to create a kind of chaos that would make people easier to control. One can only wonder how a manufactured fear of Satan would play into that plan.
This film captures Aeppli’s exploration of both the landscape and local lore. He takes us through familiar spots: the Titanic Museum, the Game of Thrones studio, and a First World War memorial. Each site has its own stories, often steeped in mystery. Aeppli’s cinematography beautifully captures this eerie charm, with shots of nature that evoke a sense of the uncanny. It’s a place where superstition almost feels at home.
Back in Farnham, where Aeppli now resides, he experiences the continual presence of the British military, making a stark contrast with the haunting past he’s investigating. Even those who constructed the original scare reportedly felt a chill in the dark, wild areas of the town. Aeppli paints a vivid picture of the 1970s, when scandalous ads for adult films shared space with spiritual readings, while local papers buzzed with stories of mysterious gatherings and strange rituals.
Imagine Wallace as a scriptwriter, crafting a narrative that eventually took an unexpected turn when the fictional horror became intertwined with real tragedy—the disappearance of a young boy. This shifted public perception and heightened the panic surrounding satanic rituals.
Visually, the film is compelling. Aeppli combines his photography with archival images and newspaper clippings. He highlights a little green book that Wallace created as a guide for British soldiers in Ireland, filled with local myths and fears. Aeppli contrasts these tales with the collective pain that marked the era, revealing how quickly people bought into the Satanic hoax. In fact, the last witch trials in Ireland occurred as late as 1711, showing that superstition has deep roots.
Recent studies suggest a resurgence of interest in occult themes, especially among younger generations, implying that the allure of the supernatural continues to fascinate. This film serves as a reminder that the line between rational thought and fear often blurs, sometimes sparking mob mentality. Aeppli weaves a narrative that intertwines scams, superstition, real-life horror, and the art of storytelling—an engaging combination that’s sure to captivate audiences.
As Aeppli’s film screens at Docs Ireland 2025, it promises to shine a light on an unsettling period, encouraging viewers to reflect on the power of belief, whether it be in urban legends or the constructs of fear.