Monster Serial: BLADE

Riddle me this: When is a horror movie not a horror movie?

More to the point, when is a horror movie a horror movie? The concept, from a cinematic point of view, has been fragmenting almost from the start, dating back at least to the moment when James Whale decided Frankenstein should be equal parts horror, science fiction and comedy.

By the 1950s the notion of a "horror movie" usually included aliens, giant bugs, x-ray vision and a host of other elements not traditionally associated with horror movies. Which brings me to Blade, the 1998 movie that launched the Marvel movie empire. Any movie about vampires should be a horror film, right? Then why is Blade almost always stocked in the "action" section of video stores?


The concept behind Blade doesn’t come across like compelling movie material. The 1998 film took a second-string comic book character whose popularity peaked in 1978*, merged the storyline with elements usually associated with martial arts flicks, and threw in a bit of Indiana Jones for flavor. This is the kind of film Joe Bob Briggs used to call an “outdoor movie,” which means it would have fit in fine between drive-in showings of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Porky’s.

What elevated the film above drive-in trash was its style, the director’s attention to visual elements and the charisma of its leading man. Sure, it had plot holes big enough to drive through, but it’s not like anyone goes to see a film like Blade to discover a deeper meaning in life.

Recap time: Wesley Snipes plays an angry vampire hunter on a mission against an international cabal of undead monsters. Along for the ride (and to provide exposition) is Whistler, played with surly glee by Kris Kristofferson. Both men are on personal missions to avenge the deaths of family members by vampires, and seem almost apathetic to human suffering. The only thing that qualifies these men for good-guy status is that the bad guys are so much worse.
The movie begins in the middle of Blade’s war, kicking off with a very literal blood bath in a vampire nightclub. When one of Blade’s undead victims is mistakenly taken to a hospital, a young doctor (played by N’Bushe Wright, who's great here in what would usually be an unrewarding role) is dragged into the conflict. Through her eyes we get a look at Blade’s nightly combat sessions and learn that there is something bigger on the horizon that even the heroes can’t anticipate.

Stephen Dorff plays Deacon Frost, a “young” vampire (though exactly how young is never addressed) plotting a coup of his own against the vampire ruling council. Frost hopes to conjure a vampire blood-god to overthrow his elitist elders, and begin a reign of terror on the entire planet. Dorff’s subplot is sometimes more interesting than what happens in Wesley Snipes’ half of the movie, and could have stood alone as a separate film.

The action sequences are genuinely exciting, choreographed like a violent ballet. To accentuate the rhythm of the sequences (as well as draw attention to the dance-like fighting) is a heavy techno soundtrack which pushes the film along. If you’ve got a good sound system, remember to crank of the volume.
Snipes is also excellent and portrays the most dangerous anti-hero since Clint Eastwood’s “Man With No Name.” Director Stephen Norrington does an amazing job of establishing the bad guys in a matter of minutes, making them so rotten that anything Blade does to them, no matter how vicious, seems justified.



*And I say that with all due affection. I've been a fan of the character almost my whole life and was one of those people who got excited about the prospects of a Blade film back in 1989 when it was first announced in the pages of Comics Scene.

Monster Serial: CREEPSHOW

(Halloween is like Christmas for Geeks. To mark the month-long celebration I'll be writing short pieces about horror movies throughout October in a feature called Monster Serial. It's nothing scholarly ... they're just meant to help get you in the spirit of the season.)

Creepshow should have been a dream come true for fans of vintage horror comics. Too bad it was released in 1982 during a rare tsunami of amazing films, a torrent which pretty much crushed its chances for survival. When movies like Blade Runner, Tron and The Thing can bomb, what hope did a little movie like Creepshow stand?

A collaboration between George Romero and Stephen King, the movie adapts a fictitious EC-style comic book and presents five short vignettes from a single "issue." It’s hard to pick a high point in the film, but many people favor the mean-spirited zombie tale“Father’s Day” over the final chapter, which features about 10,000 pissed-off cockroaches. "Father's Day" is the most legitimately creepy tale in the film, but Creepshow is really a comedy first and horror movie second. The liberal amounts of gore in the film tend to throw people off, as does the fact that Romero isn't really known for comedies.

Creepshow was a nice bookend to my theatrical experience in England. My family spend three years there and my first memory of going to a theater is of being traumatized by the "elevator full of blood" trailer for The Shining. It was only fair that I leave the country as terrified as I was when I arrived.

Unlike The Shining, though, Creepshow didn't leave any permanent scars. Father's Day weirded me out (and is one of the only times I was ever genuinely scared during a movie) but the remaining stories were loads of fun and felt like an R-rated version of the Adam West Batman TV show. And there are lots of performances here to love. Adrienne Barbeau and Hal Holbrook really shine as the world's most mismatched married couple in The Crate, while E.G. Marshall has a veritable one-man show in They're Creeping Up on You.

The same can be said for Stephen King in The Lonesome Death of Jordy Verrill, though he shares the story with another actor who plays all of the remaining parts (King's performance tends to rub some folks the wrong way, but I'm not one of them.) The segment Something to Tide You Over also calls back to a really strange time in the career of Leslie Nielsen when he seemed to only play bad guys. And King's son, who writes today under the name Joe Hill, even has a small but significant role in the film.

The movie (not to mention the Bernie Wrightson-illustrated Creepshow graphic novel) has dropped off the radar of most film fans, too, which is a damn shame. It's a love letter not only to horror, but comics and movies.