It's Halloween, and Film Utopia is once again dragging a beloved horror franchise out of the cellar, chaining it to a tree and seeing what happens when we throw buckets of blood at it. Having previously put Halloween, Friday the 13th, Hellraiser and A Nightmare on Elm Street through the podcast equivalent of a wood-chipper, we're turning our attention to The Evil Dead. Groovy!

Steven and Sean are joined by the prodigal Benjamin, returning from his mysterious summer-long disappearance, for a blood-soaked tour through Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell's original trilogy, the Ash vs Evil Dead TV series, and the modern unholy trinity of Evil Dead (2013), Evil Dead Rise and Evil Dead Burn.

We begin with the original trilogy, reminiscing about our first viewings from an era when dinosaurs roamed the Earth, VHS tapes were king, and horror films could get away with looking like they'd been shot by a cameraman having a nervous breakdown. We celebrate Raimi's deranged camerawork, the gloriously stupid slapstick, the evolution of Ash from whimpering man-child to chainsaw-wielding icon, enough quotable one-liners to fill a thousand pub conversations, and arguably the coolest suit-up sequence ever committed to film.

Next, we enter the world of Ash vs Evil Dead, where Steven and Sean enthusiastically recount some of the series' greatest moments while Benjamin sits quietly, hoping nobody notices that he's watched approximately one episode.

Finally, we venture into the modern era, where consensus becomes considerably harder to find. Steven and Sean find plenty to admire in the character work of Evil Dead (2013), particularly its decision not to simply recreate Ash with a new face, while Benjamin finds the relentless, joyless brutality an increasingly exhausting experience.

Evil Dead Rise fares even worse. Sean declares it one of the worst horror films he's seen in recent memory, with Benjamin firmly in agreement. Evil Dead Burn fares marginally better, although we're hardly handing out medals. The gore is plentiful, the plot is properly morbid, and the characters are so thoroughly unlikeable that you might find yourself rooting for the demons simply to put everyone out of their misery. Progress, of a sort.

So sharpen your chainsaw, stock up on sick bags and join us for a Halloween special packed with demonic possession, outrageous gore, nostalgic memories and a few questionable franchise decisions.

Groovy? Groovy.

A video version of this episode is available on Youtube, here.

Before the trailer, before the teaser, before the algorithm started throwing clips at you on social media, there was the film poster: one image, a handful of words and the enormous challenge of making you want to spend your hard-earned money on a film you've never seen.

In this first volume of what will become an occasional Film Utopia series, Steven and Sean each bring 12 favourite movie posters from across the decades, celebrating the designs that have stopped them in their tracks, sold them a film, or simply looked bloody fantastic on a wall.

We dig into what makes a great poster work, whether it's clever marketing, striking graphic design, a perfectly chosen image or simply an irresistible piece of visual cool. We also look at the changing role of the poster itself: from the elaborate painted artwork and giant cinema displays of the past to today's increasingly digital, social-media-driven world, where a poster has to compete with trailers, clips, thumbnails and an endless stream of imagery.

There's plenty of common ground. Our shared love of Art Deco leads us to the magnificent Heinz Schulz-Neudamm three-sheet for Metropolis (1927) and John Mattos' superb one-sheet for The Rocketeer (1991), while the bold propaganda-inspired design of V for Vendetta gets another unanimous thumbs-up.

But our personal tastes take us in rather different directions.

Steven embraces the glorious simplicity of the single-character poster, making a case for RoboCop, Captain America and Army of Darkness, while Sean gravitates towards posters that somehow distil an entire film into one deceptively simple image, with Dawn of the Dead, Jaws and A Clockwork Orange among his choices.

And because a picture is worth a thousand words, we've also recorded a video version of the episode featuring all the posters we discuss, available here.

So grab your imaginary cinema wall, dust off your pinboard and join Steven and Sean for Volume 1 of our celebration of the art of the movie poster.

The Dario Argento retrospective reaches its final chapter, and after five decades of black gloves, elaborate murders, supernatural nightmares and increasingly questionable career decisions, Steven and Sean arrive at the 2010s and beyond to discover whether the maestro still has anything left in the tank.

This time around, we tackle The Mother of Tears (2007), Giallo (2009), Dracula 3D (2012) and Dark Glasses (2022). And while neither of us is about to pretend we've stumbled across another Suspiria, there are some genuine surprises along the way.

The Mother of Tears proves far more enjoyable than either of us expected. It has its flaws, but there's enough imagination, atmosphere and sheer Argento thrills to make the final chapter of the Three Mothers trilogy a surprisingly welcome return to form.

Then comes Giallo, which manages the seemingly impossible: a film about a serial killer that is mind-numbingly boring. Its characters are so relentlessly uninteresting that even the murders struggle to wake us up.

Dracula 3D fares little better, although Sean is willing to concede that there is a certain so-bad-it's-good charm lurking beneath the digital cobwebs. Steven remains entirely unconvinced, refusing to grant the film even the dubious honour of being entertainingly terrible.

Thankfully, Dark Glasses provides a modest but welcome upturn. It's not vintage Argento, but its pacey story, straightforward plotting and refreshing willingness to simply get on with the bloody thing make it an encouraging late-career effort.

And then, finally, we rank them all.

In a lengthy reverse-order countdown, Steven and Sean reveal their personal rankings of Argento's entire filmography and, at the very top, we finally discover the answer to the question we've been building towards for five episodes:

What is Sean's favourite Argento film? And what is Steven's?

Five decades. Five episodes. One retrospective. One director. Countless black gloves.

Join us for the final bloody curtain call for Dario Argento.