As much as I shouldn’t make broad assumptions, when it comes to horror properties getting rebooted I rather doubt that too many fans are likely to get up in arms regarding Leprechaun. Sure, the series that began with Mark Jones’ 1993 movie notched up five direct sequels and one existing reboot, making it one of the few enduring horror properties to have originated in the 90s; yet it’s never had anything like the devoted following of Halloween, Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, Hellraiser or Child’s Play. Indeed, held up alongside those, Leprechaun’s seemed something of a ‘poor man’s’ horror franchise, taken a lot less seriously than its peers, in part because almost every entry went straight to video, but also because, well, they’re about a deformed Irish imp with a taste for gold, a weakness for shoes, and a tendency to speak in rhyme. In short (pun sort-of intended), they’re bloody silly films. But of course, this knowing absurdity is all part of the appeal, and as Leprechaun Returns director Steven Kostanski argues in the DVD extras, perhaps horror could do with a bit of that right now, given how seriously so many genre entries seem to take themselves.
Considering that it comes in the wake of 2014’s poorly received Leprechaun Origins, plus the fact that it’s a SyFy production, we might be forgiven for not expecting much from Leprechaun Returns. And, really, that is the correct mindset to approach the film: it’s a low-brow, low-budget TV movie, and there’s no mistaking it for anything more. However, this is one of those rare examples of that format which shows how, when entered into in the correct spirit, you can wind up with a perfectly charming, thoroughly enjoyable 90-odd minutes of undemanding entertainment. After going in with basically no expectations, I don’t think I’ve had this much fun with a low-budget, cinema-skipping sequel since Wrong Turn 2.
Spoilers for the original Leprechaun coming up…
Taking a similar approach to 2018’s Halloween, this eighth entry in the Leprechaun series disregards every film since the 1993 original, to which it serves as a direct follow-up (call it a retcon or rebootquel if you must). For those who can’t remember that far back, that movie ended on a kid saying “fuck you, Lucky Charms” and firing a four leaf clover into Warwick Davis’s mouth with a slingshot, which sent sent the little green bastard hurtling to the bottom of a well with his flesh melting off. And, in this version of events, that’s just where the Leprechaun stayed for the subsequent 25 years, by which time the old abandoned farm house is playing host to a small group of college girls, among them Lila (Taylor Spreitler), daughter of Jennifer Aniston’s character from the original. While the young women work to turn the ramshackle dump into an off-grid, self-sustaining, eco-friendly sorority house, they get the genius idea of trying to get the well up and running again – and, wouldn’t you know it, they inadvertently set free the malevolent Leprechaun, who is resurrected with a quarter century’s worth of killing to catch up on.
To address the most obvious fan concern immediately – sadly, the Leprechaun we see reborn here is not Davis, who took the title role in the initial six entries before hanging up the jaunty green hat. Fear not, though, as Linden Porco proves a more than satisfactory replacement. Not only does the Canadian actor bring a similar blend of wit and menace to the role, he also manages an accent that really could pass for Irish (sorry Warwick). We don’t tend to have quite so many wisecracking slasher villains knocking about these days, so it’s an agreeable blast from the past to see Porco revelling in his nastiness, sending a succession of hapless youngsters to their increasingly gooey and ridiculous demises. There’s a wonderfully old school quality to the kills, even if modern technology is utilised in some fun ways; and, as the 18 certificate reflects, the fact that it’s a TV movie doesn’t mean they’ve held back on the bloodshed. That having been said, the rating is scarcely warranted, as – again, being a TV movie – there’s no sex or nudity, no F-bombs, and while the gore is more than satisfactory it’s certainly no more gruesome than anything in, say, the recently 15-rated Deadpool 2 or The Predator.
Of course, it ain’t all about the killer and his carnage; we need to give a damn about his victims in waiting if we’re going to be invested in it at all. Happily, Leprechaun Returns sports an endearing ensemble. Taylor Spreitler’s Lila makes for a great final girl, and fans of the 1993 original will be touched to see Mark Holton return as the good-hearted simpleton Ozzie, whose role takes some nicely unexpected turns. We also have a nice supporting turn from Pepi Sonuga, who’s building up a respectable horror CV having previously appeared in season 2 of Ash Vs Evil Dead. And in another Ash Vs Evil Dead connection, one of the show’s writers Suzanne Keilly is responsible for the screenplay here, and she does a great job putting smart and funny lines in the mouths of characters we might otherwise deem disposable.
I realise there are few phrases more platitudinous than “they don’t make ’em like they used to,” but I daresay that’s probably the case with movies like Leprechaun Returns. Once again, I didn’t go with any great expectations, in part as the franchise has never been especially dear to me, but also as I’m no great fan of Steven Kostanski’s previous directorial work with Astron-6 (I recall quite enjoying Father’s Day, but Manborg and The Void left me cold). In any case, there’s no questioning Kostanski’s enthusiasm for that era of late 80s/early 90s horror when direct-to-video took over, and he and his team have done a great job capturing that spirit, with a film that’s easy to envisage becoming a gateway for a new generation of viewers. Leprechaun Returns is every bit as flawed, lightweight and silly as any DTV horror movie of yesteryear, but we shouldn’t ask for anything more or less.
Leprechaun Returns is out on DVD (individually, plus in a two-disc set with the original 1993 Leprechaun) on 1st April, from Lionsgate.