Fearless Vampire Killers
Fearless Vampire Killers (1967)
Fearless Vampire Killers is painful to watch the first time: plods at a slow pace and flaunting a so dry it’s probably just not actually funny humor that is based in cringing slapstick and Yiddish oi veying. MGM supposedly did such a slashjob on the script that director and (uncredited) star Roman Polanski disowned it on release. And yet there is magic to it.
The sets are a marvel of manufactured decay. Every candelabra is drowned in melted wax. Every surface festooned with cobwebs. Interior textures are dense, dark, and dirty. Romanesque Gothique. Even the paintings are ghastly. A gray stone castle isolated in the snowy mountains and the disturbing choral music recreate the classic horror setting — but the script is anything but traditional!
Polanski turns every vampire movie cliche on its head. Despite the title no vampires are killed! The heroes are bumbling, the gouls range from pitiable to pathetic, and the lovely damsel-in-distress doesn’t want to be rescued…! Polanski has the dubious distinction of introducing the first Jewish vampire and the first gay-male vampire, both unfortunately for laughs, For good measure there’s a hunchback who is an embarrassing study in grotesque comedy….
And there’s Sharon Tate.
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