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Review
by
Brian Lindsey
Films:5
DVD:8
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Cult
Classic icon applies only to THE VAMPIRE
Extra Cheese icon applies only to THE VAMPIRE'S COFFIN |
| Sagging
sales and illegal downloading have dealt a body blow to the DVD
business over the past couple of years. Among the independent
companies forced to close up shop were CasaNegra and Panik House,
Region 1 specialists in (respectively) Mexican horror and Japanese
exploitation. When they folded their entire catalogs went out
of print. Happily, though, Synapse Films has stepped into the
breach, picking up distributorship of CasaNegra/Panik House product
and bringing these DVDs back to market in the fall of 2009. Among
the resurrected titles is The Vampire Collection, a double-disc
set showcasing the first vampire movies ever produced in Mexico:
The Vampire (El Vampiro) and
The Vampire's Coffin (El Ataúd
del Vampiro). |
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As far as I can tell, 1957's The
Vampire
has the distinction of being the first depiction on celluloid,
in the Western Hemisphere, of the Fanged Undead — the bloodsuckers
of the classic Universal Horror Cycle (1931-45) never sported
fangs. (Across the pond, Britain's Hammer studio wouldn't start
making vampire films until a year after this pelicula's
release.) Germán Robles plays "Mr. Duval", a tall sinister
guy always in formal wear and full-length, high-collared cape.
He's only ever seen at night. His name — spelled backwards — is
the same as an Hungarian nosferatu said to have terrorized
the Sierra Negra region of Mexico a century earlier, the evil
Count Lavud ("La-VOOD"). Also hailing from Hungary,
Duval has arranged for a large box of earth to be shipped to him
from his native land, ostensibly for the cultivation of rare roses.
Meanwhile, people in the area are being found dead, drained of
their blood. Despite all of this, everybody takes an amazingly
long time figuring out that Duval is a vampire — including Dr.
Enrique Zaldivar (Abel Salazar), a physician investigating the
situation incognito. The good doctor is somewhat distracted by
the charms of Marta (Ariadna Welter), a pretty young heiress whom
the mysterious Señor Duval also covets... |
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The
film borrows a lot more than the 'backwards name' plot device
from the Golden Age Universal monster pics. (In 1943's Son
of Dracula, the vampire masquerades as "Count Alucard".)
Exchanging a European castle or manor house for a fog-shrouded
hacienda, the visual aesthetic is otherwise the same —
the black and white cinematography is impressively gothic at times,
harkening back to the Hollywood glory days of Lugosi and Karloff.
Director Fernando Méndez and his technicians did a fantastic job
of emulating that classic Universal horror ambiance. True, the
movie's unable to disguise its very low budget, particularly when
it comes to the special effects, but it's hardly the first vampire
flick to have rubber bats flitting about on visible wires. Robles
— suitably suave and menacing in his debut film role — is given
effective entrances and close-ups throughout, his face lit much
the way Lugosi's was in the original 1931 Dracula. |
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While
fully deserving its iconic status as a seminal Mexican horror
film, The Vampire's abundant flaws
can't help but drag my movie rating down a few notches. The conspicuously
low budget and primitive FX have been mentioned; it also suffers
from tedious pacing in the middle act and is especially ill-served
by laughably poor action during the climax, when Zaldivar has
to battle first Duval's henchmen, then el vampiro himself,
to rescue Marta. (One almost wishes Santo or Blue Demon would've
shown up to lend a hand.) Even so, the leads are appealing and
the 'old school' atmosphere is absolutely spot-on. |
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The
Vampire's Coffin
(1958): In this direct sequel, the principal cast members of the
first film return in their original roles to insure continuity
— yet almost everything else is tossed out, notably tone. The
setting is modern as opposed to gothic and the amount of humor
is significantly increased. |
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Having
been staked at the conclusion of The Vampire,
the body of Duval (or should I say, Count Lavud) reposes in a
tomb in Sierra Negra. The coffin is disinterred by well-meaning
medical researcher Dr. Mendoza (Carlos Ancira) with the help of
brutish thug-for-hire Baraza (Yerye Beirute). The men transport
the coffin to the private medical clinic where Mendoza works,
in Mexico City. Here the curious doctor wants to run tests on
the corpse to see if there's anything to the rumors of Duval actually
having been a real vampire. Paid for his services and his silence,
Baraza pursues his own agenda once he sees the diamond-encrusted
medallion around the dead man's neck. He later sneaks back into
the clinic and, in an attempt to steal the medallion, removes
the stake from Duval's chest. Sure enough the vampire returns
to life and makes Baraza his willing servant. And just like Christopher
Lee in those '60s Hammer flicks, all Duval wants is to get revenge
on the humans who thwarted him — that and make the hero's girl
his bride in blood. Conveniently for our monster, both his chief
enemy and object of desire are immediately close to hand. Zaldivar
works at the very same clinic, where he’s been helping Marta with
therapy to overcome the trauma of her first encounter with the
Undead... |
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Like
its progenitor, Vampire's Coffin
is a splendid showcase for topnotch B&W cinematography on a shoestring.
This time the influences are more noir than gothic, however, as
Duval teleports around the shadowy clinic while the patients sleep
and later stalks a chorus girl down a deserted alleyway in the
city. (He eventually returns to more homey surroundings, establishing
residence at a 'chamber of horrors'-style wax museum.) The script
tries for broad laughs, assigning leading man Salazar the role
of comic relief in addition to hero; his Dr. Zaldivar character
is anything but unflappable when he learns Duval's coffin has
been brought to the clinic. Salazar plays this well, if broadly,
but the change in tone from the first film is somewhat jarring.
Expect a heavier dose of cheese, too, including a goofy dance
routine (Marta has aspirations as a stage performer) and even
sillier action during the climax. Duval haughtily boasts to Zaldivar,
"I'll show you what it's like to fight a vampire! Get
ready to die!" —
only to be knocked flat on his ass by the scrappy doc's punch. |
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Naturally
these films play better in their native language with the onscreen
actors providing their own voices. (Robles is certainly more
effective in Spanish as a proto-Christopher Lee Dracula type.)
The amusingly verbose dubbed English dialogue is often charmingly
stilted, however, so the films are equably enjoyable in either
tongue. I actually prefer the K. Gordon Murray import version
of Vampire's Coffin since it's
already markedly sillier than its predecessor to begin with.
The goofy dubbed dialogue merely enhances the cheese factor.
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| To
read Synapse's statement about their distribution of CasaNegra/Panik
House DVDs, click here. |
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The
handsomely packaged double-disc Vampire Collection presents
the films 1.33:1 fullframe, which would appear to be their original
aspect ratios. They look remarkably crisp; Vampire's
Coffin is the superior of the two since The
Vampire occasionally exhibits print damage. (Most noticeable
during the scene in which Salazar and Welter walk to the hacienda
after a superstitious cart driver refuses to take them further.)
Both the original Spanish and dubbed English mono audio tracks
are offered, with the Spanish
ones having a distinct qualitative edge. Optional, easy-to-read
English subtitles are available, so the Spanish audio is the way
to go — unless, of course, you're keen for the über-cheesy K.
Gordon Murray experience. Dialogue in the American import versions
can get pretty wacky at times. |
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A
surprising amount of bonus material is on hand. There's an audio
commentary for The Vampire by Mexihorror
scholar Robert Cotter, providing interesting trivia and factoids
on the subject (amid some
dreadfully cornball jokes). A step-through photo essay, Fear
a la Mexicana! by David Wilt, provides a concise overview
of Mexican horror cinema during the period 1953-65. Abel Salazar's
1995 Boston Globe obituary, image galleries, cast bios
and a pair of amusing U.S. radio spots are also included. DVD-ROM
content can be found on Disc 2, a French comic book illustrated
with photo stills from Vampire's Coffin
(in PDF format). Cover
art is reversible, with a choice of either English or Spanish
text.
10/14/09 |
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