Even though Lovecraft wasn’t overtly fond of The Festival, its position within the pantheon of his work, was reinforced by devotees like Clark Ashton Smith and S.T. Joshi. The tale of an unnamed narrator who ventures into grotesque celebrations of ancient rituals and rites in a small New England fishing town in the bosom of a branch of his family hitherto unknown to him, The Festival wears every beloved Lovecraftian trope on its ghoulishly delightful, and horrifically engorged sleeves like a priceless brace of eldritch jewellery.
Frizzi’s score is an enchanting supporting cast that draws its influence from Goblin and Carpenter and lends Leman’s magnificent , emotive narration a sense of palpable power that pulls its audience into the meat and viscera of Lovecraft’s frightening vision of things that should that not be, ancient, barely remembered celebrations and insanity. Some stories linger long in the memory, and thanks to its incredible reincarnation at the hands of Cadabra, Leman and Frizzi, The Festival will continue to haunt the imagination of Lovecraft’s fans, old and new alike, for the duration of the strange aeons that plagued poor Howard… Tim Cundle