Earlier this year I (John) came across a Letterboxd review of a Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace, by Saskatoon Fantastic programmer Dara Moats which stated, “One of my favourite things in the entire world.”  I became immediately interested in and tracked it down and I 100% agree with Dara. I started the work on seeing if there was a way we could highlight this brilliant piece of horror parody for our audience. I loved it so much that I even managed to talk the Dark Bridges team into letting Saskatoon Fantastic take a spot at the 2025 Dark Bridges film festival. And we now have the first ever Saskatoon Fantastic Takeover event!

Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace is a surreal, pitch-perfect parody of 1980s horror television that has earned cult status for its audacious tone, deliberate cheapness, and deadpan absurdity. Created by Matthew Holness and Richard Ayoade (who also star in the series), it originally aired on Channel 4 in 2004 and consists of just six episodes—though its brief run has only amplified its mystique.

At its core, Darkplace presents itself as a “long-lost” TV show created by fictional horror author Garth Marenghi (played with brilliant self-importance by Holness), now being re-aired with commentary from the original cast. The show-within-a-show format allows for a double layer of comedy: the cheesy, low-budget 1980s horror hospital drama, and the equally absurd present-day interviews with its egotistical creators.

The humor thrives on intentionally bad acting, terrible special effects, nonsensical plots, and stilted dialogue that feels like it was run through a haunted typewriter. Richard Ayoade’s performance as Dean Learner (Marenghi’s publisher and co-star) is a highlight, with his wooden delivery and commitment to the bit bordering on performance art. Matt Berry, as the macho Dr. Lucien Sanchez, adds his booming voice and exaggerated bravado to the mix, making every line hilarious.

What sets Darkplace apart from mere spoof is its unwavering commitment to its own universe. It does not wink at the audience—instead, it dives headfirst into its ludicrous world and dares you not to laugh. The result is something that feels oddly authentic in its ridiculousness.