The Gates is a supernatural horror set in 1890s London, where William Colcott (Richard Brake), having killled 28 women, is caught red-handed (literally) in the act of slashing his latest victim’s throat; his some-time dead wife’s corpse laid out behind him. The police burst in, and with some difficulty batter him into submission and cart his psychotic arse off to prison where the electric chair beckons. Evil to the end, he curses the prison along with all that dwell within its gates.

The deed having been done and this being the age where the weird custom of photographing the dead was alive and well (metaphorically speaking), the fried felon is visited by postmortem photographers Frederick Ladbroke (John Rhys-Davies) and his niece Emma Wickes (Elena Delia) in order to capture his ghastly countenance in perpetuity, though heaven knows why; he’s no Mona Lisa.

Having been doubted and ridiculed, Forsyth, losing heart in the whole paranormal deal, is ready to chuck in the towel as a load of bunkum, but Emma isn’t so easily discouraged. These two are also in the business of investigating the paranormal in the form of a ouija board and EVP recorder, plus a contraption that electrifies the atmosphere (the atmosizer, in their words) in order to attract spirits (purely for scientific purposes, of course; is there life after death?) However, they get more than they bargained for (which is to convince the countless doubters) when the developed photos show something sinister and all the prisoners are scared silly, with good reason. Something is causing them to die horribly one by one; it’s put down to suicides, but the staff, equally spooked, send for Father Matthews (David Pearse) to bless the place.

Medium Lucien Abberton (Michael Yare) is called upon after the Father’s flung about in the cells by an unseen force, and insists, rather pompously, that the prison be locked down till things are sorted; nobody leaves, nobody enters. Herein begins a pitched fight between the scientists and spiritual advisor, with plenty of bitching thrown in. Science vs faith; the oldest struggle in the manual. As Frederick and Emma attempt to summon Calcott, his presence makes itself more than evident, to the chagrin of those affected.

After a promising start, I spent the whole entirety of The Gates waiting for something, ANYTHING, to happen. What I got was a low-key catfight between the paranormal investigators and the medium who’s sitting on a self-constructed pedestal. Honestly,  his character would try the patience of a saint. And said medium throwing his weight about and asking Calcott to ‘use his hand’ gets old very quickly. It’s a pity, because everything is so well presented; the costumes, the set, even the manner of speech is A-1.

Many dramas set in this era are in danger of not getting the salient facts right, and the history buffs among you will recognise the use of the electric chair in England as dramatic licence. We here in the fair isles much preferred to hang our criminals rather than zap them in the chair (which is made clear in the film as being a point of experimental purposes).

There are very few films I struggle to watch, being the open-minded woman I am. But The Gates really tested me; I must’ve watched it in good faith seven or eight times, just to be sure it wasn’t down to me not being in the right frame of mind, but I can say with absolute honesty that that wasn’t the case. It left me completely un-riveted. Nothing really happens. It just blunders its way along until maybe the last quarter of an hour, when things finally become enlivened. Even so, it’s hardly edge-of-the-seat stuff.