cinema history class: exhausted by a dracula movie

It's been a few years now that Ethan and I have been in Keith's cinema history class. In that time, we've seen many movies -- some good and some...not so good. Some -- not all, but some -- of the movies can tend to blend together. But there have been a few that stand out as truly memorable.

This past Thursday's movie, Andy Warhol's Dracula, was part of the second category. By the time the film ended, I was breathless. Exhausted. This ain't your father's Dracula. It was a gothic horror film. There were comedic elements, which was Keith's rationale for including the movie in his session on horror comedies. And a lot of the movie played like a soft-core porn flick. So I can't really say exactly why I found the movie so exhausting. So compelling.

Perhaps it was the atmosphere. The cinematography is lush and vivid, and the direction captures the the moods beautifully. The movie begins with a scene of Dracula elaborately making himself up to look alive. As an aside, I note that this is a new element in the Dracula canon -- the idea that the count, being dead has to use makeup and hair dye to make himself look alive. From there, there's some exposition, and the count is off to Italy in search of virgin victims. There are moments that are fascinating. There are moments that are revolting. There are moments that are frightful. And it all adds up to a thrilling hour and a half.

There are some puzzling elements to the movie. Chief among them are the accents. They contribute greatly to the atmosphere, but they're inconsistent. While Dracula is courting the di Fiore daughters (who, surprise surprise, aren't the virginal angels he's thirsting for), the father speaks with an Italian accent. The mother sounds British. At least one of the daughters sounds French. And the farmhand sounds a Jersey Boy.

And this is as good a time as any to talk about that farmhand. Played by Joe Dallesandro,  he sounds completely out of place. At least all the other accents are European. But there's no effort to rein in Dallesandro's speech. Keith tells us that this was probably a conscious choice on the part of director, Paul Morrissey, for humorous effect. I have to wonder if Dallesandro was in on the joke. It's hard to say for sure. It's hard to imagine that he was oblivious, but he's such a poor actor that such obliviousness is quite possible. While the rest of the acting is quite good (and sometimes excellent), Dallesandro turns his role as the farmhand into a caricature of the pron industry.

I suppose he's well-suited for that role. His body is quite attractive -- especially in the long loving camera shots of his butt during the sex scenes, and he plays it up. Which makes sense given his history. Keith points out that he was the inspiration for a verse in a Lou Reed's classic:

Little Joe never once gave it away
Everybody had to pay and pay
A hustle here and a hustle there
New York City's the place where
They said "Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side."
I said "Hey Joe, take a walk on the wild side."

With a little research I also found out that the crotch on the cover of the Rolling Stones' Sticky Fingers cover. So, Joe knew how to work it.

Finally, to close with a bit of attention to the end of the movie. The climactic scene is horrifying in its violence, and yet it's funny as well. And it exhausted me.

This is a movie that I never would have seen if not for Keith's class. In fact, I might not have heard of it. But I'm truly glad to have seen it, and that's the best of the class.