I would guarantee that anyone of my generation who frequented video stores in the late Eighties and early Nineties and had a certain morbid fascination with the horror section (see also: Creepshow, and any number of Herschell Gordon Lewis atrocities, all of which are still crouching like fanged possums somewhere in the hollow of my skull) will remember this charming little Ken Russell ditty. I never saw the film, not once, not one frame of it, but thanks to this indelible poster/video art, with its horny little devil perched, claw-splayed, like a living gargoyle atop a supine victim in a nightgown (who I now realize is Natasha Richardson...who knew?!), I feel like I've seen the film about eighty-seven times. The late-Eighties Ken Russell comeback, largely buoyed by tantalized video renters no doubt, is dotted with curios such as these (remember Lair of the White Worm? How about Theresa Russell in Whore?), films eternally recalled (and doubtful just by me) for their box art more than anything that happened in them. For the record, Ken Russell's oeuvre is one of my movie gaps, save Women in Love, and I'm not sure that needs to be corrected anytime soon. I prefer my memories of Gothic and its ilk relegated to the dusty shelves of the once-beautiful Video Paradise, small-town video store of my childhood . . . now a Hallmark shop.