Mandrake

‘Bloody’ Mary Laidlaw (Derbhle Crotty) is put into the care of probation officer Cathy (Deirdre Mullins), who takes the case when no one else will, for rehabilitation. Seemingly unrepentant for the crime that put her away Mary is allowed to return to her home with only an ankle alarm to keep her within the boundaries of the building. That does nothing to allay the fears of the local village who are obviously horrified that she is out, let alone back in the village.

Cathy is further complicated by her divorce from local copper Jason (Paul Kennedy) and her increasingly estranged relationship with her son Luke (Jude Hill) as he gets used to living with his new wife Grace (Roisin Gallagher).

Jason and Cathy are both played by a manipulative Mary who through induced potions, ritual and charms, and the help of her hulking son Thomas (Seamus O’Hara), who was taken away from her, sets out her post prison plans. Matters are further heightened when two children disappear nearby triggering village searches and suspicions.

Mandrake’s writer Matt Harvey and debut feature director Lynne Haddon don’t pull any rabbits out the hat here. They are content to rely on the tried and trusted evil crone and nervous villagers’ trope with some predictable scenes, albeit with a surprise or two.

In the main they rely on atmosphere and tension, drawing parallels between mothers Cathy and Mary, as we head towards the denouement. The real strength is in the performances with Crotty very unsettling in a character that is set in her convictions with little regard for anyone else.

Set in rural Northern Ireland there’s no sweeping sunlight cornfields or endless green pastures. This is dank, muddy working land with a dilapidated farmhouse at the centre of a small paranoid but scared community. And as can be presumed by the title there’s a fair amount of digging about which disinters some nasty things.

Mandrake is available now on Shudder