Indeed, bloodsuckers are everywhere, from the smash hits “True Blood” and “The Vampire Diaries,” both now the highest-rated dramas on their respective networks, to franchises like “Underworld” and kids movies like “The Vampire’s Assistant.” And, to be honest, we’re nauseously sick of it at this point; the whole conceit has been, ahem, sucked dry, and the mere idea of a vampire film is enough to send us running to the hills. But while it might frustrate us sometimes, there are reasons why the vampire is still so prevalent in our imaginations, and has been for centuries.
For one thing, the creatures are able to overcome the one thing that we all have to face over the course of our lives — death — so there’s a degree of wish fulfillment. And, aside from the primal fear they cause, they also serve as potent, all-purpose metaphors; drug addiction, religion, AIDS, homosexuality, burgeoning sexuality, plain old heterosexuality — the vampire can take the weight of all of these.
Of course, very little of this is present in the “Twilight” series, which, for the most part, bastardizes and waters down the beasts to an unrecognizable degree. But, with all this in mind, and in honor of all the poor, brave souls who’ll sit through “Twilight: Eclipse” this weekend, here’s a fistful of reasons why, in the right hands, the vampire on the big screen shouldn’t be written off entirely.
“Trouble Every Day” (2001)
The vampire mythos can survive many interpretations, which partially explains the acceptance of the “Twilight” vamps, who buck popular trends and freely walk in daylight. Such was the strategy preferred by Claire Denis, who picked and chose for her first foray into the realm of bloodsuckers. In the sumptuous “Trouble Every Day,” Denis directs a multi-character study with a structure familiar to her, reducing her trademark silences and sensual actors’ physicality with screams of agony and bloodshed. To the somber strings of the Tindersticks, Denis focuses on two couples torn apart by bloodlust — the brooding Alex Descas has to cope with the ravenous hunger of his tragically-afflicted girlfriend Beatrice Dalle, constantly boarding her up or protecting her from the outside world, while Vincent Gallo and Tricia Vessey are two academically-inclined lovers who struggle to find the scientific explanation behind this hunger for flesh in between gruesome relapses. Both astounding, graphic and achingly intimate; the film is a standout in such a consistently revisited genre.
“The Addiction” (1995)
Shot in sumptuous, thematically-resonant black and white, Abel Ferrara’s “The Addiction” is a bleak, thought-provoking addition to the vampire canon. Its many flaws — over-talkiness, heavy-handed use of Sartre, Nietsche, Baudelaire, Burroughs et al., a pace that sometimes slows to ‘leaden’ — are, on balance, outweighed by its triumphs: the always-excellent Lili Taylor; the you-can-nearly-taste-it grit of the New York City locations; the creepy, twisted, descent-into-madness tone – not to mention the awesomely perfect casting of Christopher Walken, (seriously, you need an actor to play not just a vampire, but a creepy philosophizing vampire who’s overcome his thirst for blood through iron self-control, who you gonna call?). The film, as an analogy for junkiedom and the spread of AIDS, is littered with overt philosophical and theological references, to the point that it seems to beg for reams of scholarly analysis, but the truth is Ferrara’s pessimism overpowers any interpretation that’s not completely nihilistic. Here redemption is beyond reach for all but those who can resist the irresistible, and even they do not regain their humanity – just the appearance of it. It’s bleak, often didactic, but occasionally fascinating stuff, and worth it if for nothing else then for Taylor’s superbly nuanced performance as the bookish innocent bitten by evil, who dallies briefly with the gray, before inevitably giving herself over entirely to the black.
“Rabid” (1977)
Masterful genre director David Cronenberg infuses the stagnant vampire genre with fresh blood by introducing a new avenue for vampirism: blood transfusion! In her sole mainstream role, porn star Marilyn Chambers is injured in a motorcycle accident and given an experimental organ transplant, one that leaves her with the side effect of having a tiny, penis-like stinger pop out of her armpit and infect anyone within stinging distance with the same vampire-y tendencies. This was Cronenberg at his early, freaky-deaky sex-and-violence peak, and the movie remains a shocking, laugh-and-puke examination of the true meaning of “safe sex.”
“Shadow of the Vampire” (2000)
What if Max Schreck, the German-born actor who portrayed a thinly veiled Dracula knock-off in F.W. Murnau’s immortal “Nosferatu,” was actually a vampire? From that simple concept comes a startlingly original, lovingly movie-geek-y period piece which stars Willem Dafoe as the vampire and John Malkovich as the director. If you aren’t sold already, then you’re hopelessly nuts, but if you need more convincing, you should know that the movie is done in a deliberately old fashioned, silent movie style, with all sorts of lovely period-specific flourishes, like the iris in and cards describing the action. While the gore is on short supply, cleverness is abundant (and so is the fun).
“Vampire’s Kiss” (1988)
We’ll totally admit it: this is a film we haven’t seen since high school and we have very little idea if it still holds up, but we sure pray it does, because it was, at the time, a pretty hilarious send-up of the oh-so-painfully serious nature of most vampire films (think David Copperfield in eyeliner gesticulating with fey hands and arched
eyebrows). At the peak of his powers, and before he became a joke (this was right after “Raising Arizona” — his acting masterpiece), Nicolas Cage ludicrously raged as a man who has a one night stand with a girl, gets bit by her and then spends the rest of the movie hilariously running around thinking he’s a vampire. It’s all in his head (or is it?) and his cheap-ass methods — wearing cheap Halloween-like fangs, turning over couches as ad-hoc coffins — are riotously funny. The film is also perhaps best remembered as the picture where Nicolas Cage was so in loony-toons-like character he ate a real-life cockroach — that’s a wacky dedication we miss. Still, if you want to see the legendary Cage of yore (not this ‘Bad Lieutenant’ counterfeit horseshit) “Vampire Kiss” is the place to start.
“The Lost Boys” (1987)
Vampirism is a go-to metaphor, and here it fills in for teenage rebellion… and, since this is a Joel Schumacher movie (he mixed glitter into the fake blood for crying out loud because he wanted some extra sparkle) for some potentially complicated homoerotic urges. On the outside, “The Lost Boys” is just as chaste as the “Twilight” movies, but looking deeper exposes some pretty blatant homoerotic undertones (in one of the more bizarre moments, our hero Jason Patric is made a “half-vampire” by drinking from an iffy wine bottle supplied by a bleach-blond Kiefer Sutherland). Featuring an outstanding ’80s soundtrack and some surprisingly atmospheric visuals, this is the most profoundly Me Decade vampire tale: being a vampire not only means you’re a sexually ambiguous teenage delinquent, it also means you only give a fuck about one person: yourself.
“The Hunger” (1983)
While Tony Scott’s output in recent years has gone off the rails into stylistic autism (“Domino,” “Deja Vu,” to a lesser extent, “The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3”), there was a time when the director created moods to match his brother Ridley; namely his official feature-length debut, “The Hunger,” featuring the rather stellar cast of Catherine Deneuve, David Bowie and Susan Surandon. While something modern like the “Twilight” films are way too uptight to show you any vampire sex or newborn vampire bloodlust with any sort of depth, in Scott’s picture you get to see Denevue and Sarandon go full lesbian, followed by Sarandon falling slowly down the rabbit hole of humanity in a nuanced and gradual transformation. While perhaps somewhat campy by today’s standards, the film is all soaking wet, sweaty atmospheres of lush, moody lighting, balmy sex and simmering aesthetics that rival those of “Blade Runner.” The score by Denny Jaeger and Michel Rubini (he conducted the classical music), is also just saturated in sub stratosphere-ian eerie and haunting tenors and spooky reverb-ified auras. It’s so out there that it borders on straight up industrial-like sound-design and juxtaposed next to the plaintive piano music by Schubert — it’s just extra chilling. The Summit tween vampire films might try and buy cred off every indie music label in existence, but “The Hunger” has it just dripping out of its sensual pores.
“The Fearless Vampire Killers” (1967)
Monomaniacal modern culture (vampires 24-7!) should take a cue from this one. OK, well, sort of. What to do when the vampire craze becomes to omnipresent? Well, it’s its the mid ‘60s and you’re Roman Polanski, you make a campy satire of Vampire films. Perhaps most notable as the film that Polanski met his wife Sharon Tate (who was brutally murdered by the Manson family in 1969 while eight-and-a-half months pregnant), ‘Vampire Killers’ is silly and amusing and not really mandatory vampire-film viewing or Polanski-oeuvre viewing for that matter. Widely recognized as one of his weakest heyday era films, still it’s worth watching as a curio and to see the little imp-ish director clowning around with goofy looking Dracs and approaching humor in a far more explicit manner (aside from the creepy/funny “The Tenant”) than the dark and twisted black comedy that’s sometimes buried in his work (“Repulsion”). And hell, the eerie, choral-vocal-led score by Krzysztof Komeda alone is worth the price of admission and far more interesting than anything you’ll see in a movie with Stephenie Meyers’ name on the credits.
“Nosferatu” (1922)
F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu is one of the first vampire (and horror) films ever made, and at nearly 90 years old, sets the gold standard for the genre, despite featuring what might be the least sexy vampire of all time in the villain Count Orlok. Yet, this hulking, be-clawed, bald oaf strikes more fear and creepiness into audience’s hearts with a single twitch than any sparkling broody teen. When Nosferatu is slowly, slowly first revealed onscreen, just try not to get a shiver down your back. The dreamlike, haunting style of the film perfectly married the German Expressionist and French Impressionist styles of the day, and was hugely influential in the horror genre. The story remains emotionally compelling in this modern CGI world, utilizing the shadowy contrast of light and dark, and the stylized yet subtle acting by Max Schreck to convey all the emotional turmoil within the bloodthirsty monster struck by a disease which keeps him in limbo between the human and horrific. Now remind yourself that they pull all of this off in a silent movie. Nosferatu isn’t just suggested — it’s required viewing for any vampire genre fan worth their salt.
“Near Dark” (1987)
Most successful vampire movies will choose one aspect of the vampire legend– whether it be bats, sex, or immortality– to bite down on and suck the life out of. In ’80s cult flick ‘Near Dark,” Kathryn Bigelow primarily exploits the issue of sun intolerance in her Western-inspired, white trash biker take on the genre, to gory and gruesome results in the punishing atmosphere of the American Southwest. Adrian Pasdar is the young and innocent country boy Caleb, entranced by and then changed into a vampire by alluring drifter Mae. He joins her rockabilly, roving band of vamps, including Bill Paxton as the disturbingly sexy and violent Severn. Caleb’s reluctance to kill humans and protection of his sister leads to his disentanglement from and subsequent destruction of the crew. While some vampire flicks plod and sigh and stalk through cold forests and damp corridors, “Near Dark” rips through the desert, in a fierce, bloody, sexy, diesel-fueled twister. These vampires don’t just wince in the sunlight (or sparkle if the case may be), their skin blisters and blackens like some kind of twisted monster barbecue. Bigelow co-wrote the film with Eric Red, (the controversial, cult horror screenwriter) and her direction is visceral, taut, and atmospheric, expertly melding the genres of vampire legend and Western biker myth, creating a film that is entirely its own bloody, blistered beast.
“Martin” (1977)
Nearly a decade after he pretty much invented the zombie genre with “Night of the Living Dead,” George Romero turned his hand to the already-well-established vampire genre, resulting in one of his most intelligent and satisfying films, “Martin.” Often undeservedly overlooked, “Martin” is a fascinating example of the “vampirism-as-psychological-disease” subgenre, and portrays its titular protagonist as either a delusional psycho-sexual serial killer or an 84 year-old vampire trapped in the body of a sexually frustrated 17 year-old, depending on what you believe. The film takes many playful, convention-defying detours, but never loses its way: with minimal gore, judicious use of black and white, and struggle/fight scenes that are viscerally real in their awkward geography and messiness, it establishes a vampire fable for modern times; it’s not about an unkillable shapeshifter with superhuman strength, and is all the more unsettling for that. In flourishes, typical of the director at his best: Romero references societal pressures, media manipulation, the U.S. immigrant experience and the generation gap (here a chasm) without ever resorting to tokenism, while at the heart of it all beats a steady belief in the power of the stories we’re told – how they make us who we are, but can destroy us too, when we discover, as the film’s oft-repeated mantra goes, “there is no magic.”
“Let the Right One In” (2008)
In an era when you can’t escape vampires, on film or television, it’s even more difficult to differentiate yourself from the crowd. But right when we were least expecting it, Tomas Alfredson’s Swedish horror arrived from left-field with such depth of emotion and artistic flair that for two hours (at least) you forgot “Twilight” and “True Blood” even existed. Like all the best vampire stories, this is a love story…a genuine love story though, lust doesn’t come into it. The protagonists Eli and Oskar are 12 years old (in appearance at least) and their relationship is one that blossoms out of friendship and a mutual interdependence. The performances from the young leads are phenomenal, the cinematography beautiful, and while the story is moving it’s also regularly chilling. It’s a film that almost transcends the vampire sub-genre, but if our fanged friends are the main attraction for you then fear not, there’s a fair fill of vampire action and (in a scene relating to the title) an interesting addition to established vamp lore.
“Cronos” (1993)
Guillermo Del Toro’s feature debut has many flaws — mostly due to a threadbare budget and some rather gauche performances, especially in the English language parts — but a lack of imagination is not one of them. The prologue speedily rewrites the vampire myth in such a way as to perfectly showcase what has since become some of Del Toro’s trademark preoccupations: a child protagonist’s loss of innocence; a clockwork mechanism with organic elements; an ambivalent attitude towards death as an ending but also a release; Ron Perlman. And it’s when he sticks to his thematic concerns that the film works best – the staginess of the small cast and cheap locations doesn’t jar when the focus is narrowly concentrated on the three-way relationship between Jesus Gris (an empathetic Federico Luppi), his tragic destiny, and his silent, watchful granddaughter. Unfortunately the story devolves into something more ordinary and paradoxically less convincing by the final third but this is often to be expected of a low-key, low-fi, low-everything film. Even so, Cronos has treats in store but if patience is not your bag, you can always check out Del Toro’s other vampire movie, the dumb-but-fun “Blade 2,” which is about as different from this slow-moving character piece as it’s possible for another film in the same genre to be.
“Thirst” (2009)
Only madcap South Korean director Park Chan-wook (the “Vengeance” trilogy) would have the audacity (and intelligence) to pull off this minor genre triumph, melding a contemporary vampire tale with a highbrow Emilie Zola novel first published in 1867. It’s this fearlessness that makes ‘Thirst’ such a compulsively watchable film, with a new twist around every turn. Even if the film doesn’t quite stick the landing (its third act is a bit baggy), it should be awarded numerous points for ambition, and for its rich portrayal (by the irrepressible Song Kang-ho) of a priest who, while on a humanitarian mission, gets turned into a vampire and then something more — a messianic figure for the sick and downtrodden. Like most vampire tales, it’s only after our hero has died that he really understands what life is.
“Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat” (1990)
A film that brazenly defies all logic, a vampire Western comedy verging on “Troll 2” territory in terms of production value and acting, “Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat” boasts a glorious B-Movie All-Star cast featuring Bruce Campbell, David Carradine, and Maxwell Caulfield (you know him as Rex Manning from “Empire Records”). A Southwestern town populated exclusively by vampires contracts a scientist to assist them with their blood-synthesizing factory, in order to ween themselves off the human stuff. Scientist shows up, family in tow for a desert vacation, with, of course, his beautiful wife who once spurned Caulfield’s character, Shane, and all hell breaks loose. The vampires protect themselves from the brutal sun with SPF 100, large straw hats and stylish sunglasses. Yes, you read that right, SPF 100. Then there’s Campbell’s bumbling, nerdy Robert Van Helsing who arrives on the scene at the same time to live up to the task his last name entails, but starts to crush on a sexy vampire chick. “Sundown” is truly a camp masterpiece and exercise in genre mixing that ends in hilarious results– if it isn’t the Harryhausen-esque stop-motion effects for Shane’s sexually menacing bat transformations, it’s the LA rocker vampires Chad and Burgundy joining in the climatic brawl. It’s no surprise this Anthony Hickox film never got a theatrical release, but it’s perfectly suited for the early ’90s VHS cult status it’s earned, and a cautionary tale for any future vampire Western comedies…
“Bram Stokers Dracula” (1992)
Oh, Francis Ford Coppola what were you thinking? Then again, the early ’90 were the beginning of the end for the heralded, once-visionary American filmmaker (“The Godfather Part III,” “Jack”) until he reivented himself in the late aughts (and thank god he did). Full of hilariously bad ideas, “Dracula” 1) hires the ever-wooden Keanu Reeves in one of his most out-of-place, “dude”-like roles 2) hires Winona Ryder in an almost-as-stiff turn as the love interest (emo!) and 3) hires the always-excellent Gary Oldman, near the height of his wanton alcoholism, and the actor decides to mumble his lines in an incomprehensible Romanian accent (or what Oldman presumed was a Romanian accent). Add on top of that a deliriously over-the top Tom Waits as R. M. Renfield (who’s actually one of the small joys of the film), Richard E. Grant as a morphine abusing doctor and Anthony Hopkins grandiloquently unsubtle as Professor Abraham Van Helsing and you have some high grade melodrama of the unintentionally funniest kind. While cinematically there are some interesting flourishes throughout — the stuttering camera speeds to convey a vampire attack, the gauzy look of dream sequences with lesbian vampire concubines — most of it is all too stylistically over the map and a bit gauche. Some still view the picture as a gothic masterpiece, but Keanu and Winona alone derail the drama and emotion at almost every turn. It’s not a terrible picture, and it’s undeniably entertaining in spots, but we’d be remiss if we didn’t admit that it makes us giggle every time we come across it on cable. Still, a weak Coppola effort is still infinitely more interesting than anything “Twilight” has delivered so far.
— Jessica Kiang, Oliver Lyttelton, Kathleen Walsh, Drew Taylor, Courtney Smith, Joe Cunningham & RP.
Hisayasu Sato's Love – Zero = Infinity is a great take on the vampire genre as well.
What, no love for Dreyer's Vampyr?
Definite love for it, and it came up in our discussions for sure, but no one had a chance to rewatch it and write it.
i was hoping that Larry Fessenden's 1997 'habit' film would make it on the list.
Another film that was mentioned, we approved it and the writer didn't complete the assignment(the editors were mostly hands off on this one and let the kids do their thing). Alas.
I know it's super obvious but the Bela Lugosi DRACULA has to be mentioned, (it's still good). And FRIGHT NIGHT even a bit dated is still better than a few on this list. But great job overall.
Nadja (1994) !!
Vampire's Kiss is indeed still one of the greatest films of the 80s and i hate how serious (or are they?!) critics label him as a joke now when he's turning boring straight-to-video or shitty blockbuster fare into entertaining, wow-ing punk-rock-cinema from the hilarious, bizarreness of The Wicker Man to laugh-by-the-minute Next, the man is one of the most unique actors working today and his method has changed from his early days sure but that's something, he's still got it.
also, it's worth mentioning that Joe Minion, writer of Vampire's Kiss and After Hours, needs to write films again. he was the shit back then.