The Gorgons, and Medusa in particular, are well known mythological monsters which most people will be aware of. From Clash of the Titans (1981), to The Gorgon (1963), to Percy Jackson (2010) and many others, Medusa has appeared in one form or another, so elements of the story are known. This lends some background and context for audiences going into ‘Medusa: Queen of the Serpents’ set in the present day.
Most of the plot here revolves around a caravan park near Canterbury, where a group of prostitutes live off the grid, overseen by Val (Nicola Wright), and Jimmy (Thomas Beatty). Returning to the fold is Carly (Megan Purvis – Away From it All, Don’t Knock Twice) who seemed to have escaped, but has found herself unable to leave the life. With a drug addiction, and looking to avoid her boyfriend Dean, she takes refuge back at the caravan park, but things have changed since she was last here.
While she was away, the mysterious Alexis (Jamila Martin-Wingett – Dark Ditties) has been taking an interest in her, who seems to have a secret. During an unusual home visit, Carly gets bitten by a snake, and soon after she discovers things begin to change, and only Alexis may have the answers.
It would be fair to say that ‘Medusa: Queen of the Serpents’ is only loosely based on the original myth we are used to, with some elements being omitted. Quite often we see the latter stages of the story, where Medusa has snakes for hair, which turn people to stone, and is later beheaded by Perseus. In Medusa: Queen of the Serpents, it is much more focused on the beginning of the tale, and how she comes into being. Even here, some parts are merely suggested, and you must draw your own parallels.
Medusa was cursed by Athena for sleeping with Poseidon in her temple, which then turned her into a Gorgon, for instance. You could draw a line between that and her Heroin addiction while with Dean, which curses her and then sends her on this path, but that line is not drawn explicitly. Equally, the modern view of Medusa as symbolic of feminine rage could be inferred, as Carly’s transition is ongoing while pushing back, quite rightly, against violence towards the women.
Quite aside from the myth and its interpretation, what we have here is a modern body horror that focuses on normal people caught up a difficult situation. Purvis gives Carly remarkable strength, but is also able to show her personal weaknesses and terror, as she finds herself trying to survive. She also does a great job acting through the makeup effects, which are very well done. This could easily have been problematic, but her metamorphosis is handled extremely well, especially on what must have been a low budget.
In the introduction, producer Scott Jeffrey explained that they had some issues with the main snake mask they used and had to do some reshoots. In fairness, he is probably being a little hard on himself, as what they achieved works, so his instincts and final choice of shot was effective. It is also commendable that they shot this in a very short space of time during the lockdown, which is not apparent in the film.
On the negative side, it does feel sometimes like the pacing is a little slow, and there are a couple of moments where characters are a little clichéd, but this is rare. On the whole though, this punches well above its weight, rooted firmly in some solid casting, with Purvis being a dependable lead. If you’re after some British body horror, with nods to The Fly, Cronenberg in general, and revenge movies, this will work for you.