I went in hoping for a French New Wave vampire film ala Truffaut or Godard, an elevated amateurism in a gorgeous aesthetic, and free-spirited vigor; and it succeeded at that from the very first minute. But by the end, I was a fanatic. I did not fully understand the film until I read the booklet, where Rollin said he intended the film to be a serious vampire epic; he was horrified that audiences laughed during every screening. Suddenly the film clicked. This wasn't a FNW deconstruction of the vampire film, he wasn't a Godard refreshing the science fiction serials and noirs in his own eye; 'Rape' is actually an unironic vampire film. The film suddenly becomes outsider art. Because we see outsiders doing genre films sometimes, it's not my thing. But when a director is in France in the 1960s, an image-smith, and making outsider art, you are now in the zone of hard arthouse. Just from the time and place, it can never just be the thing at face value. And the amateurism you would not even think to remark on because it is so thoroughly and confidently staged, and gorgeously photographed. What it lacks in intellect it reaches the same ends through its creative force of will, which is the purpose of film prose. Inherent to the subject of a vampire erotica, its very existence is subversive; audiences only choice is to laugh, or riot. It is why artists are drawn to the Gothic, it is impossible to steer wrong because we understand Gothic. The shorthand is so powerful, nothing needs to be added, so these additional filmic ingredients to Gothic create an overwhelming experience. It was one of the more substantive experiences in my recent goes.
Review of The Rape of the Vampire
