Vampires (pt. III)

Martin

Thirst

No spooky cinematic excursion is complete until we shine a light on the fanged freaks that have occupied countless books, films, parodies, musicals, and pornos, the ever-loved and forever fresh species of vampires. This isn’t my first perusal of this genre, in fact it is my third, but it was assuredly one of the most distinct. My next exploration of vampires in cinema brought me to a selection of highly-stylized, non-traditional vampires that each belong in their own category of weird and fucked up. George A. Romero’s 1977 vamp flick Martin was the kind of artfully bizarre film I’ve come to expect from the King of the Undead. There is something so indie, yet so sophisticated about Romero. He has no need for large sets or actors with household names, he’s able to catch your eye and hold your attention with just the right balance of tension and fear. This film felt particularly indie because it was terribly low budget, due to the fact that Romero was in serious debt. His previous film Night of the Living Dead had yet to become appreciated in the way it is now, and it wasn’t until he made Dawn of the Dead two years later that he was able to pay off his debts and make any real profit. Despite his initial struggle to become a financial success, Romero was always ahead of his time—pioneering the genre of zombie films, and creating a new kind of vampire legend with tonight’s film. Romero has a way of creating a climate of uncertainty and paranoia for his characters—and his audience. While this film is certainly a vampire story, it does everything it can to gaslight you into thinking it’s not, immediately creating a thick sense of unease and at times, disorientation. Martin follows a young, outcasted boy named… Martin, who is taken in by his elderly cousin Cuda. Martin has his quirks: he’s shy and socially awkward, and he has an insatiable appetite for human blood. Out of all of the vampires I’ve become acquainted with, Martin uses one of the most creative and disturbing methods of obtaining blood, and I’m a little bit shocked that no other film has stolen it since. Though Martin is efficient and clever when it comes to his killings, he’s painfully aware of the fact that he’s an old, socially awkward virgin, and this only adds to his disenchantment with society. With its humanistic yet psychedelic approach to vampirism, Martin joins the ranks of some of my favorite vampire films, those that offer innovations beyond the blueprint of Dracula or Nosferatu, and cover the existential nightmare that is living forever. Miraculously, this film is on Youtube (don’t tell Youtube🤫), and it really is the perfect film for horror snobs and vampire lovers who think they’ve seen it all. It’s more of a psychological thriller than it is a horror film, but Martin had a cunning way of making me question the format of vampire films as a whole. Speaking of breaking the form and making me question life itself, the next vamps to grace the spooky screen came from my favorite freaky director, an artiste among artists, master of the genre of psycho-sexual thrillers, Park Chan-wook. His 2009 film Thirst brought all of the disastrous desire and poisonous prose that I needed, and then some. On the perverse playground of a Park Chan-wook film, really anything can happen. But you can certainly expect to have your mind blown. His films read like poetry, his characters are always deliciously deceptive, and he has the unique ability to make a movie over 2 hours feel short because everything he creates is so engrossing. Thirst was no different, and while I thought I’d seen every depiction of bloody romance, I was thoroughly hooked, gooped, and shook throughout this twisted vampiric love story. Like any Park Chan-wook experience, it shan’t be spoiled in anyway. All I will reveal is that this film is about a priest (Kang-ho Song) and his fiery reunion with a childhood friend Tae-ju (Kim Ok-bin) after he undergoes an experimental vaccine trial that causes some odd side effects. (Your anti-vax friend doesn’t need to see this one.) Kang-ho Song (the father in Parasite and The Host) was reliably strong and surprisingly sexy, and Kim Ok-bin gave a performance that left me spellbound. In an on-brand move for Park Chan-wook, Thirst is, as Tae-ju puts it, “strange but good”. It’s another portrayal of unique vampire lifestyles, one that, similarly to Martin, made me question my own sympathy toward these creatures of the night. Vampire stories are, after all, just stories of humanity with a scary twist—one that is perhaps easier to swallow than the lack of humanity often displayed by humans. To quote Katya Zamolodchikova, as I often do, Park Chan-wook’s filmography is always “80% sexy, 20% disgusting”, but that really was true to both of tonight’s films. Bloody but beautiful, sick but sweet, abhorrent yet addictive, Martin and Thirst are the kinds of vampire films that stand out from the crowd. Whether you’re a Vampire Veteran or a Novice-feratu, you haven’t seen vamps like these before. They may bite, but they don’t suck. 🧛🏼‍♀️🧛🏼