Throughout the seventies and eighties, New World Pictures released some of the most endearing schlock cinema of that era. Many of studio's horror, sci-fi, and sexploitation films are looked back on fondly. The last movie the company produced was "Warlock." The film appears to be an unambitious late eighties horror flick at first but has developed a cult following over the years. Dig a little beneath the surface and you'll realize why. The film was directed by Steve Miner, director of the first two "Friday the 13th" sequels and oddball haunting flick "House." Screenwriter David Twohy would go on to write blockbusters like "The Fugitive" and "Waterworld," as well as gaining a following for the Riddick series. Stars Lori Singer, Julian Sands, and Richard E. Grant all have fandoms of their own.

The story owes more then a little to "The Terminator" but trades in robots and time travel for witchcraft and magic. A grand warlock, before being executed in 1600s Boston, travels forward in time, winding up in 1980s L.A. A witch hunter with a personal grudge against the sorcerer leaps into the portal after him, following him into the future. The two men cross paths with Kassandra with a K, a snarky twenty-something living in the city. The Warlock uses his Satanic powers to cause chaos, even aging Kassandra twenty years, the witch hunter on his trail the whole time. The MacGuffin motivating the evil witch is an ancient book that could bring about the un-creation of the universe. Needless to say, neither Redferne nor Kassandra want that to happen.

"Warlock" strikes the right balance between humor, campy special effects, eighties action-style thrills, and harder horror elements. The script gets some decent laughs out of its "fish out of water" premise. Both Redferne and the Warlock have comical reactions to modern society, particularly to airplanes and cars. Lori Singer's Kassandra, meanwhile, frequently reacts to the supernatural insanity suddenly in her life with sarcastic one-liners. Side moments, like a cop's radar going crazy when the flying Warlock speeds by or a surprisingly modern reverend, also provide chuckles. For laughs of the unintentional variety, some of the film's special effects, like animated fireballs or the flying wizard, haven't age the best.

However, "Warlock" is still a horror film and provides some grisly and clever moments for genre fans. Upon arriving in L.A., the Warlock bites a man's tongue out, the severed appendage landing in a simmering fry pan. Mary Woronov's cameo as a fraud spiritualist ends with the villainous wizard yanking her eyeballs out. When a Mennonite makes eye contact with the witch, he's immediately cursed, blood running from his eyes. The most morbid element of the film happens off-screen, when the villain murders a child to rend his fat. That the film's tone isn't completely thrown out of balance by such a dark moment is a testament to Twohy's clever writing.

The nature of magic also provides some witty moments. Those removed eyeballs mentioned earlier float in the Warlock's hand, deepening his sight. A cut to the chest magically heals, in a simple but satisfying special effect. When the evil wizard appears in a home, it has immediate effect on the surroundings. Milk goes sour. Bread won't rise. Though the villain is the one that mostly practices magic, it's a two-way street. Hammering nails into his footprints puts the witch in immense pain. Salt burns his skin. A bloodied weather vane is used to determine what ground is holy and what isn't. It's refreshing that the script treats the Warlock as a blatantly Satanic character, an old-fashion horror-movie witch.

If the smarter then average script isn't the main attribute here, it's the stand-out cast. Julian Sands' reputation as a cult actor would mostly be founded on his work here. Sands' icy coolness and effete handsomeness suits the part well. (I'm not surprised a certain portion of the female population found him incredibly sexy.) He strikes a good balance between serious threat and wry sarcasm. Richard E. Grant, primarily known as a comedy actor, actually does well playing the straight man, the deathly serious Redferne. He's even convincing as an action hero, stabbing Sands or grabbing him with a whip. Grant's comedic strength still shines through, especially when faced with his own corpse. The best performance probably belongs to Singer though. She shows a deft comedic timing, gamely trading barbs with her male co-stars. She's effortlessly charming and, even if the script can't sell the romance between Grant and her, the two still play off each other nicely.

The film's central threat, that the villain could undo the entire universe by speaking God's one true name backwards, probably isn't given as much attention as it deserves. The way the Warlock is dispatched, a payoff on a character's briefly mentioned diabetes, comes a bit out of nowhere. Yet "Warlock" functions fantastically as eighties horror comfort food. A genuinely eerie Jerry Goldsmith score keeps things rolling along. The film's fantastic VHS-box-lending poster art got the film rented more then a few times which is the ideal way to watch it. The movie was popular enough to spawn two sequels, only one featuring Sands, but the Warlock has never reached the status of a Freddy or a Pinhead. Which is a shame since the film proves highly entertaining.