John Carpenter grew up watching westerns.
One of his very
first short films, The Resurrection of
Billy Bronco, was inspired by them. And although known as a horror
director, he’s really been making westerns since the very beginning: Assault on Precinct 13, They Live, Escape
from New York/L.A., Ghosts of Mars and there are even more. But when it
comes to the weary and embattled few taking on many in the dusty, sandy
landscapes of the Midwest, complemented by the appropriate
acoustic-guitar-driven musical score, it’s Vampires
that claims the top spot as the
western Carpenter always wanted to make. Sure, the enemy might be
sunlight-avoiding bloodsuckers, but they spring up from everywhere – from
behind buildings, or elevator shafts – and it’s up to Woods’ Malcolm Crow and
his desperadoes to mow them down with a glorious collection of weaponry. The
only thing scarier than facing your certain death in the OK Corral at sundown
is being out there in the New Mexico desert at
all once the sun begins to set, allowing the legion of vampires beneath the
sandy surface to rise, looking for necks to suck on.
Vampires is a
hell of a lot of fun – the type of fun of which only Carpenter is capable – the
type of fun that is completely without pretension, and which only wants to
entertain, emboldened by that “to hell with mainstream audiences” mentality
that Carpenter has been rocking since The
Fog. It’s never spoken of fondly among cinephiles, but for the ardent
Carpenter fan, it’s generally regarded as the last great feature from the
filmmaker. It opened # 1 at the box office its debut weekend and enjoyed a
laudable collection of favorable reviews – again, and sadly, it may be the last
time of Carpenter’s career. To follow would be the box-office and critical bomb
Ghosts of Mars, followed by the
little-seen The Ward, and then
endless speculation of just what projects
Carpenter might tackle next, should the necessary funding come together (which
seems more and more like a red herring as time goes on).
Carpenter films contain a certain energy and swagger that’s
not commonly seen in other films of the genre. There’s something about the way
he crafts the story and develops the lead that feels different – that establish their own identity. His siege-like
tales always center around that one strong lead fighting back against
adversity; heroes either anti or reluctant leading a small squad of people
against the threat coming down hard upon them; heroes taking on the
establishment with little hope for success.
Malcolm Crow is among them, and he is brought to boisterous,
cigar-chomping, scenery-chewing life by James Woods, not only enjoying a rare
lead performance, but enjoying one in which he gets to play the hero. And man is he shooting for the
rafters. Woods’ performance exudes a kind of energy rarely seen in a genre
project within the confines of a major studio release. (Watching him stake vampires
while screaming, “Motherfucker, die! Die!” over and over is the stuff of
dreams.) This wasn’t just a relatively unknown Kurt Russell taking on Snake
Plissken, free of the constraints of having achieved mainstream success and
straddling that line between risk-taking and reputation-maintaining. This was
James Woods, a twice Oscar-nominated actor (the second nomination having been
the year prior for Ghosts of Mississippi);
who had, in the few years leading up to Vampires‘ release, worked with Martin
Scorsese, Oliver Stone, and Robert Zemeckis; who, in the following year, would
work with Clint Eastwood. Not to belabor the point, but this was an actor who
had a lot to lose, creatively, by taking on a project of such potential
embarrassment. But he threw caution to the wind, likely so he could let back
his proverbial hair and just have fun.
And man, that’s what Vampires
is. It’s fun.
As for the supporting
cast, Daniel Baldwin (the most underrated Baldwin, for serious) as Montoya
doesn’t get enough credit for his abilities as an actor. His contributions to
the film are to offer a believable and somewhat restrained counterpart to
Crow’s eccentric and bigger-than-life persona. That he begins to slowly fall
for Katrina (Sheryl Lee), a prostitute bitten by the film’s main baddie, only
adds to his likability. He’s written as the loyal and dependable partner – the
ideal person to have in your corner when you’re up against it – and you
completely buy the rapport he shares with his fellow vamp-killer.
Thomas Ian
Griffith also does a fine job retreading very old and established ground with
his take on Valek, likely the fifth hundred vampire to hit the screen since the
film medium began. With one foot each in the sexual-being and the
monstrous-killer camps, his Valek is an interesting addition to the vampire
sub-genre, which, by now, is in desperate need of rejuvenation following too
many years of so many pretty bloodsucking boys. (Also look for brief appearances
by Mark Boone Junior of Sons of Anarchy
and Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, a.k.a. Shang Tsung of Mortal Kombat.)
To suggest that Vampires
is within throwing distance of Carpenter’s top films wouldn’t be accurate, but
it’s deserving of so much more respect than it receives – not just from the
genre community, but audiences in general. Allegedly, Carpenter, at this point
in his career, had become burned out by the filmmaking process; however, it
would be his experience making Vampires
that would cause him to reassess his feelings and decided to stick with it.
Only when Ghosts of Mars came along
three years later would the director lapse into a half-retirement/hiatus for
nine years before returning to feature filmmaking with The Ward.
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| Spoiler. |
With each passing day, as Carpenter prefers to focus on
graphic novels, video games, and his beloved Lakers, it seems more and more to
be the case that he could very well be done with the film business for good.
While it would be terrible for The Ward
to serve as his swan song, perhaps it would offer the opportunity for the ’90s
portion of his career – one not nearly as celebrated as his two previous
decades – to enjoy the same kind of rightful adoration. Second only to In the Mouth of Madness in terms of
’90s era-Carpenter, Vampires is
deserving of that kind of adoration.
If, for whatever reason, you may have dismissed Vampires after a one-time viewing, or perhaps none at all, it's time for you to consider a reevaluation. A manic performance from James Woods, a healthy dose of violence and blood-covered grue, and a full-on embracing of western aesthetics makes Vampires an underrated addition to Carpenter’s filmography and one of the more unique contributions to the vampire genre.
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