Vampire's Kiss [1988] Nicolas Cage

Vampire's Kiss (1988)


http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0098577/

Vampire's Kiss is an American dark comedy/psychological horror film released in 1989. It was written by Joseph Minion, who also penned Martin Scorsese's darkly humorous After Hours, and stars actors Nicolas Cage, Maria Conchita Alonso, Jennifer Beals and Elizabeth Ashley. Peter Loew (Nicolas Cage) is the head of foreign distribution for the publishing agency Whittington Johnson. During the day he is a tyrannical boss and by night he revels in one night stands, the consequences of the latter resulting in Loew being unable to commit, thereby placing him in regular therapy sessions as a result. However, one evening he takes a girl named Rachel (Jennifer Beals) home. After she bites him during sex, Loew’s megalomania exponentially increases due to the fact that he believes that he is turning into a vampire. As such, he begins committing rape and murder until he discovers that something is askew.


Nicolas Cage ... Peter Loew
Maria Conchita Alonso ... Alva Restrepo
Jennifer Beals ... Rachel
Elizabeth Ashley ... Dr. Glaser
Kasi Lemmons ... Jackie
Bob Lujan ... Emilio
Jessica Lundy ... Sharon
Johnny Walker ... Donald (as John Walker)
Boris Leskin ... Fantasy Cabbie
Michael Knowles ... Andrew
John Michael Higgins ... Ed
Jodie Markell ... Joke Girl
Marc Coppola ... Joke Guy
David Hyde Pierce ... Theater Guy (as David Pierce)
Amy Stiller ... Theater Girl


Robert Bierman’s Vampire’s Kiss is, quite simply, not only one of the most criminally overlooked gems within the genre, but was--and continues to be--well ahead of its time. Bierman’s work is one of the most succinct satires of human ego, not only within the genre, but all of film, as the feature wavers between absurd comedy and seemingly inauthentic horror, before the two align themselves, revealing an epiphany of monumental proportions by the climax of the feature, which reminds us of how truly fragile, both physically and emotionally, we ourselves are.

Eleven years prior to Mary Harron’s masterpiece of social satire and psychological realism, American Psycho, Bierman gave the world Vampire’s Kiss. Much like Harron’s work, we have a high power executive as our central character whose totalitarian hubris is fueled by a crippling inferiority complex. Unlike Marron’s character of Patrick Bateman, Loew finds meaning for the first time in his life after being bitten by a vampire. It is through this conceit that Bierman gives us his first, and perhaps most scathing, social criticism for Loew begins feeding upon those around him in lieu of the fact that he had been doing just that, albeit metaphorically, years prior to our first encounter with him.

What is more remarkable than the ingenious symbolism which pervades Vampire’s Kiss--as Loew’s magnified self-image is subtly seen in most every character onscreen via “big” hair, “big” earrings, and mullets (only a very assured individual would ever attempt this particular fashion statement)--is that Bierman issued Vampire’s Kiss during the period in which it is critiquing. Only amid the Reagan-Bush administration could a director feasibly posit a verbally abusive boss making a house call upon an employee who has called in sick, for motives based less upon concern than paranoia. When else could idle nightclub chatter plausibly involve IRA options? However, not everyone got the satire that is Vampire’s Kiss.

More than a handful of critics complain that Cage’s nasal accent is not only unconvincing, but sporadic. However, once one realizes that Loew’s speech patterns only appear in certain elitist or impressionable company, do we come to truly appreciate how well the actor portrays an immensely vulnerable ego. Poignantly, Bierman includes references to both F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu and Tod Browning’s Dracula, the latter of which being the more effective of the two as we watch Loew, much like the character of Renfield, eat bugs (cockroaches at that) as well as a live pigeon. This occurs a few scenes prior to Loew’s purchase of a set of plastic fangs in preparation for his forthcoming vampiric metamorphosis as Bierman parodies the fascination of the goth counterculture with a macabre lifestyle as the oversized facsimiles threaten to lunge from the actor’s mouth for the remainder of the feature while Loew, nevertheless, insists upon wearing them.

Critics also complain that the work is neither an explicit comedy nor a straightforward work of horror and, as such, the director’s hesitancy to commit to either leads to the two moods of the film diluting one another’s potency. Yet, upon reflection, the eerie manner in which Bierman issues a sense of the uncanny by marring the two mindsets escorts us to the terrifying insight of how closely linked comedy is to horror as an off-beat personality, which has henceforth been fairly laughable, becomes instantaneously lethal.

Unlike Harron’s work, by the climax of the film, Bierman unabashedly reminds us that-- though he has revealed a plot twist of immense proportions, which turns our condemnable lead into a sympathy-laden anti-hero--Loew is nonetheless a homicidal maniac despite the fact that he cannot be held accountable for his actions. As such, like Patrick Bateman, the true terror of Vampire’s Kiss is brought forth in the director’s footnote that we are perpetually surrounded by such people on a daily basis.

Few films are as creative and thoughtful (or overlooked) as Robert Bierman’s Vampire’s Kiss. Not only does the director issue a succinct portrait of the period in which the film is set, but he outlines how such vices contained within his characters remain all-too-present and threatening in today’s society. Furthermore, via his ingenious presentation of vampirism, Bierman satirizes the fragile mindset which is oftentimes hidden behind the veil of domineering tyranny and, as such, as absolute as Mary Harron’s caricature of Patrick Bateman might be, Bierman’s personage of Peter Loew is outright terrifying which, for those of you who know Patrick, is a sentiment that seems nearly impossible.

The vampire lends itself perfectly to cinematic interpretation and representation. They touch upon human concerns and worries. Mirroring and embodying them in contemporary, prescient themes: which like the supernatural being itself; shows no signs of ageing. The vampire is always with us. Its illustrious history has seen it transferred from folktales and hardcore-horror to teen sensation. They have endured the whole gamut of possibilities the arts have thrown at them. One does not have to be an expert in Freudian psychoanalysis to understand what so fascinates us about this creature of the night.

During the 1920s, they were used as a metaphor for moral sickness and even rather fancifully, the rise of fascism. In the 1960s, the erotic aspects were ramped up. The early 1990s vampires figured as allegories for AIDS and ideas of sexually-transmitted disease. In the 21st century, the vampire as “social outsider” has been hit upon in Let The Right One In, Twilight and HBO series True Blood.



Independent Spirit Awards
1990 Nominated Independent Spirit Award Best Male Lead Nicolas Cage

Sitges - Catalonian International Film Festival
1989 Won Best Actor Nicolas Cage Tied with Michael Gambon for The Cook the Thief His Wife & Her Lover (1989).
1989 Nominated Best Film Robert Bierman