Ahead of the UK premiere of The Last Sacrifice at FrightFest Glasgow 2025, director Rupert Russell discusses his chilling true-crime documentary. The film explores the eerie cultural forces that shaped British folk horror while investigating a gruesome and unsolved murder that continues to fascinate and disturb.
Your film is premiering in the UK at FrightFest Glasgow this year. How do you feel about that?
It is an exciting moment, especially with Glasgow being so close to Summerisle, the fictional island from The Wicker Man.
What first drew you to this project?
I only watched The Wicker Man for the first time in 2022, and to me, it did not feel like a horror film. It felt like a documentary about Britain in recent years. The madness of Summerisle was no different from the madness of the British Isles. That final moment, where Sergeant Howie begs for his life, saying, "Killing me won’t save your apples," and Lord Summerisle simply replies, "I know it will," is something I have seen reflected in daily life. When I shared these thoughts with a friend, they stopped me and said, "You do know there was a real murder that inspired all of this?"
The film centres around the unsolved murder of Charles Walton in 1945. What is the background of the case?
Charles Walton was a 74-year-old farm labourer found murdered in a field in the Cotswolds on Valentine’s Day, 1945. A pitchfork had been driven into his face, and a billhook was embedded in his throat. The scene was so gruesome that the Warwickshire police contacted Scotland Yard, which sent one of Britain’s most famous detectives, Robert Fabian. When he arrived, he described the crime as a “slaughterhouse horror.” Despite Fabian’s investigation and continued efforts by the local police, no one was ever charged with the murder.
What fascinated you about this case?
It was never about finding out who committed the crime. It was about understanding why people believed certain theories about the killer. Mysteries act as mirrors, reflecting our fears, anxieties, and cultural beliefs. When a murder goes unsolved, people fill in the gaps with their own ideas. The theories that circulated about Walton’s murder revealed something about Britain at that time. Instead of the classic horror trope of the dangerous outsider, this case introduced the idea of the hidden threat within a seemingly ordinary community.
The rural setting and superstitions surrounding Walton’s death mirror themes in films like The Wicker Man. How did these parallels shape your storytelling?
The link between fact and fiction was the most exciting part of making this film. I started by watching documentaries about real witches from the 1960s. These films were often exaggerated and theatrical, yet when I spoke to modern-day witches who had been part of them, they confirmed that they were largely accurate representations of what was happening at the time. The real events were often stranger and more shocking than the folk horror films inspired by them.
The conspiracies surrounding Walton’s murder introduced tropes that became staples of folk horror. These were not just the creations of screenwriters but were based on the speculations of police officers and amateur detectives trying to make sense of a brutal and bizarre crime.
The media played a major role in shaping the public’s perception of ritual sacrifice and the occult in post-war Britain. Do you think this influenced the murder investigation?
Not at first. The press only picked up on the occult angle years later, after Robert Fabian wrote about it in his memoirs. His police reports from 1945 suggest that the biggest obstacle to solving the crime was the secrecy of the local villagers. He believed that in a small community like that, the killer’s identity must have been widely known. The fact that no one came forward suggested to him that the villagers either knew who had done it or understood the reason behind it and did not want the truth to come out.
What do you think is the lasting impact of the Charles Walton case, both in real-life folklore and in horror cinema?
Folk horror films of the late 1960s and early 1970s were shaped by a mix of cultural changes. Writers and filmmakers connected the Walton murder to the rise of Wicca, the counterculture movement, women’s liberation, class conflict, and the broader shifts happening in Britain at the time. These ideas all swirled together around the figure of the witch, who became a symbol of both fear and rebellion.
How would you compare British folk horror films of the ‘60s and ‘70s to the American ones that followed?
British folk horror often revolves around a member of the professional class, a teacher, doctor, or policeman, who arrives in a rural village and becomes the target of a conspiracy. The villagers, often under the influence of an aristocratic leader, are portrayed as resisting modern progress in favour of older, more sinister traditions. These films reflect a fear that the post-war social changes brought in by the Labour government might be undone, returning Britain to a feudal past.
American folk horror, by contrast, tends to feature tourists who unknowingly walk into danger. Films like An American Werewolf in London or Midsommar are about outsiders encountering a cult, rather than a clash between social classes. The fear is less about political regression and more about the dangers of extreme ideology. Given that many early American settlers were religious extremists, this fear makes a lot of sense.
What is your favourite folk horror film?
I did not know much about the genre when I started making this film, but I loved discovering it. Some of my favourites are Penda’s Fen, The Plague of the Zombies, Twins of Evil, and Demons of the Mind.
Finally, what is next for you?
I have two fiction horror films in development, as well as another archive documentary.
The Last Sacrifice will be screening at the Glasgow Film Theatre on Friday, 7 March at 3.30pm as part of Pigeon Shrine FrightFest Glasgow 2025. Rupert Russell will be attending.
