Color, 1971, 90m.
Directed by Don Sharp
Starring Nicky Henson, Mary Larkin, Beryl Reid, George Sanders, Ann Michelle, Roy Holder, Denis Gilmore, Rocky Taylor, Robert Hardy
Severin (US R0 NTSC) / WS (1.78:1) (16:9), Image (US R1 NTSC) (1.66:1)
Color, 1971, 90m.
Directed by Don Sharp
Starring Nicky Henson, Mary Larkin, Beryl Reid, George Sanders, Ann Michelle, Roy Holder, Denis Gilmore, Rocky Taylor, Robert Hardy
Severin (US R0 NTSC) / WS (1.78:1) (16:9), Image (US R1 NTSC) (1.66:1)
A hellraising biker gang called The Living Dead finds its course of destiny changing dramatically when shaggy-haired leader Tom (Henson) decides to try out a theory of his occult-loving mother (Reid) that a person can return from the dead simply through force of will. After offing himself following a particularly frisky chase sequence, Tom is buried while still straddling his chopper and left with a strange amulet from the spooky family butler, Shadwell (Sanders). Sure enough, Tom has soon risen from the grave and begun a reign of terror across the countryside. He talks his small cult of followers into following his example, with good girl Abby (Larkin) backing out and incurring the wrath of her undead compatriots. 
This loopy British biker/zombie film has haunted the shelves of countless video stores over the years, sneakily lurking in wait for unsuspecting viewers destined to be left speechless by its hallucinatory fusion of rebellious mod youths, spooky zombie mayhem, loud motorcycle chases, and... uh, supernatural frogs. Though it contains all the elements of a perfect drive-in film, Psychomania plays out as anything but a run of the mill zombie movie. The strange mingling of old pros like Sanders (shortly before his death) and Reid (a veteran of lowbrow trash like Beast in the Cellar and highbrow trash like The Killing of Sister George) with the game young cast makes for an odd clash of youth movement and classic horror, with some froggy cult worship thrown in to make the plot even odder. Director Don Sharp, best known for the Hammer masterpiece Kiss of the Vampire, keeps things percolating along even when they don't make a bit of sense, and the second half of the film is an almost nonstop montage of nuttiness including some suicide montages that must be seen to be believed. The strange, creepy quasi-pop score by John Cameron (one of the most prolific library music composers of the '70s) puts just the right polish on the action, making this a unique artifact for any horror collection. Pop it on as a double feature with Werewolves on Wheels and enjoy.
Though presumed to be public domain for a while which made for some very rocky VHS experiences, Psychomania got its first legit DVD release from Image in 2000 a middling non-anamorphic transfer, barely letterboxed, with a heap of print damage in the opening reel, though it did also feature the Spanish language track and a funny frog cartoon on the back sleeve. It took a decade for a better version to come along courtesy of Severin, who did as superlative a job as possible given this film's often negligent cinematic history. The negative appears to be long gone, as are anything resembling pristine elements, so take that into consideration here. The aspect ratio tends to fluctuate between 1.78:1 and 1.66:1 (the latter comprising most of the film), and it's a much better encoding with less damage than the Image version. Apparently we'll never get a pristine edition of the film, but this is certainly watchable enough and a solid presentation of a truly unique entry in British horror cinema. However, the real payoff here is in the extras. "The Return of the Living Dead" spends 24 minutes with actors from the film including some very funny observations from Henson, an amiable, still-busy actor whose credits range all the way from Witchfinder General to a hilarious appearance on Fawlty Towers. He's up front about his motives for doing the film (he loved motorcycles but was shocked when they didn't have Harleys on the set, and he had a new wife and baby to support), and he's candid about the cause of Shakespeare-style haircut and the producer's reasons for choosing what everyone regarded as a substandard script. Also present are Larkin (who discusses Reid's "instructive" tendencies and points out she had no idea how to ride a bike, simply straddling an idle one at all times onscreen), Denis Gilmore (who plays Hatchet and mentions some of his other genre appearances like Tomb of Ligeia and Blood on Satan's Claw), Roy Holder (who plays Bertram and had a few Zeffirelli credits under his belt already!), and stuntman Rocky Taylor (who also plays Hinky onscreen), who worked on every 007 film -- including the infamous rival ones in 1983. "The Sound of Psychomania" is an interesting, shorter featurette with composer John Cameron, who talks about his trial by fire doing film scoring under an insanely short schedule and also covers some of his other major scores (including Kes); his music is such a major part of the film that it's gratifying to see him getting a spotlight here. "Riding Free" features singer Harvey Andrews discussing the creation of the memorable ballad of the same name in the film, which is mimed by a different actor onscreen, while Fangoria's Chris Alexander offers an affectionate introduction from the vantage point of nostalgic VHS junkies who have cherished this film for years. Last up is a surprisingly good transfer of the obscure theatrical trailer under its original title; score another direct hit for Severin, who know exactly how to give the red carpet treatment to a truly batty film that's languished in obscurity for far too long.
(Note: if you want to learn a little more about the history of this film, check out my article over at Turner Classic Movies.)
