Soft voices, seduce you
A butterfly in a spider's web
Infectious, behavior
You're damned to do it all again (and again and again and again...)
Lyrics to “Good Man In A Bad Time” by Ian Hunter
Growing up in the early ‘80’s, most fortunate, suburbanite children like myself were treated by their parents or easily-swayed babysitters (although they often went by their own volition) to screening, at their local multiplexes, such popular box-office blockbuster event movies including those of the STAR WARS franchise, E.T.: THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL and GHOSTBUSTERS. So it’s no wonder I was easily and immediately engaged into the world of sci-fi fantasy and cinematic fiction. I don’t have an exact reason why it had befallen that horror films would be my film genre de choix during those early maturing years, but it didn’t seem to bother my parents and I figured that if I could handle knife-wielding maniacs, decomposing bodies, exploding heads or zombies running amuck, I could handle any of life’s aggressions.
Because watching R-rated films was taboo in our household, being able to sneak into a corner of the house (or that of a friend who shared similar passions for the paranormal and/or glutton for gore) to watch such films was complemented by an excitingly heightened and rebellious form of danger of getting caught by one’s parental figure. As its images fascinated me, my imagination grew and my innocence likely lessened. Nowadays, there aren’t too many networks on television that cater to horror/fantasy film fans despite a few channels such as Chiller, SyFy (formerly known as Sci Fi Channel), ThrillerMax (of the Cinemax brand) and occasionally, AMC. But en vogue during those formative years was late night and afternoon horror film marathons with programmed classics (DRACULA), psychological thrillers (PSYCHO, THE BIRDS) and schlock (MONSTER IN THE CLOSET, THE TOXIC AVENGER). For those living in New England at the time, my personal TV-network favorites teeming with such horror fare (featured most often on Saturdays) were WPIX 11 (based in New York), Spine Tingler Theatre on Channel 20 and USA Network’s Up All Night.
Parents are pretty formidable gatekeepers when it comes to a kid satisfying his or her own passions, but every so often when their guardian’s defenses are down, a kid’s urges can be indulged. It’s never taken a lot to make me happy, so besides the family-friendly television commercials of horror films that amused me as a youth that I knew I would never have a chance of seeing in theatres or the glorious posters of such films secured in Plexiglas cases underneath the marquee of said film, the only other social media of the day that I could actually get my hands on were newspaper advertisements usually found near the middle of the Sunday Paper.
And so it was here, faithful readers, that I caught my glimpse of the image that would be instantaneously burned into my brain: that of the poster inset and local showtimes of Tom Holland’s contemporary horror classic, FRIGHT NIGHT (1985). Perhaps it was the yawning blue face of the creature hovering over the ominous home of its vampire owner, Jerry Dandridge (Chris Sarandon), complete with a fanged dental makeup that looked unlike most vampires I had ever seen in the movies. Its cerulean face resembled a modern-day Medusa with snake-like extensions moving about in every which way under a full moon. The poster’s iconic image was simple, frightening and effective. The font-type of FRIGHT NIGHT was equally as clever with the extended “F” and “T” simultaneously resembling fangs and stakes. The chilling creature, apart from being a reproduction of one of the characters seen in the film’s climax, was also a puppet manufactured by the special effects crew originally used as the “Ghost Librarian” in Ivan Reitman’s GHOSTBUSTERS (released by the same distributor, Columbia Pictures, a year earlier).
It is ironic that the cleverness behind FRIGHT NIGHT is its acknowledgement that films about vampires are no longer fashionable, as Peter Vincent (Roddy McDowall) tells Charley Brewster (William Ragsdale), an impressionable teenager and fan of horror movies who is convinced his new neighbor is a bloodsucker. The film’s inventiveness is also found in its transparency of vampire lore and the knowledge of such concepts is strategic in helping the protagonists thwart the fanged nemeses. For those not familiar with FRIGHT NIGHT, one might call it a mash-up of DRACULA, REAR WINDOW and GALAXY QUEST where compounded into the film are these elements: a young man spies on a mysterious neighbor which leads to trouble for him and his girlfriend; an aging former actor, fearless Vampire Hunter and host of a popular horror television program, “Fright Night”, uses his props and knowledge of vampire concepts in expelling the ‘creatures of the night’ and the romantic poeticism of a thousand-year-old (confirmed by Jerry’s sister, Regine, in FRIGHT NIGHT 2) vampire trying to (re-) connect with a woman who resembles a lover he knew in his past.
As the film mocks or rather dissects the classical themes in vampire popular culture, the film’s cast and crew walks a fine line between farce and sincerity in scenes that are nuanced, stylish and blend into each other so effortlessly that it appears as if the film writes itself without having to move a muscle. Complemented by masterful economics of shots where no scene seems overwrought with comical touches that are elegantly over-the-top, FRIGHT NIGHT is a perpetual and accessible horror delight likely to gain momentum in the current climate where exists a resurgence in vampire curiosity. A few recent events possibly responsible for this spate of fanged fiction: the cult following of Anne Rice’s popular bestselling novels, some of which have been adapted into films; two successful series of books brought to the big and small screen, respectively, TWILIGHT (which caters to young children) and TRUE BLOOD (targeting young adults and older audiences) and clothing stores attracting those individuals of the gothic-obsessed culture e.g. Hot Topic. In a similar vein, the immortally named Forever 21 exudes everlasting connotations. FRIGHT NIGHT was a surprise hit of 1985 and became the highest grossing horror film of the year, surpassed only by the second sequel of A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET. It has since achieved a cult status amongst fans - - and a 2011 re-make of the film is imminent.
The film takes place in Anytown, U.S.A. and if it weren’t for some rather dated fashions of the period, it would also likely be anytime. But thanks to this lack of time-affirming notes makes itself a timeless motion picture. Classic vampire horror motifs are on full display - - crosses, holy water, mirrors and stakes - - and each are analyzed in their relation to exposing or destroying a modern-day vampire: crosses can be used to reject a vampire, but only if its owner has faith in it; blessed holy water can purify a vampire, but it can be desensitized if held against a warm fire; no vampire can cast a reflection in any mirror which is fitting that Jerry’s home contains not a one; and stakes used in the film prove that wood driven through any part of a vampire causes pain, be it the chest or the hand and can take the form of any broken wooden fragment such as the leg of a chair to a Number Two pencil.
Charley Brewster’s post-make out session with his girlfriend, Amy Peterson (Amanda Bearse), is interrupted when he catches sight of his handsome new neighbor, Jerry Dandridge and mortal man servant, Billy Cole (Jonathan Stark), a modernized Renfield, carrying a coffin into their basement. As the days ensue, the town’s population starts shrinking and from Jerry’s bedroom window with drawn shade, Charley hears shrieking. He calls on the authorities to drop in on Jerry one day who is conveniently unavailable to meet with them. Billy is not happy with Charley’s potential disruption of his boss’s afternoon slumber and affects a fatal glare while in the officer’s presence in the form of a silent warning. Upon Charley’s first meeting with Jerry, another classical element that vampires can only be invited into an owner’s rightful home is confirmed when Mrs. Brewster, Charley’s single mother, invites Jerry over for cocktails. But it is Charley’s blood that Jerry would rather be drinking and makes it clear that he plans on dropping by whenever he feels like it “with [his] your mother’s permission, of course”.
Jerry abuses his welcome and returns the same evening appearing through Charley’s mother’s bedroom window. He walks directly to Charley’s room past a mirror on her dresser which refuses to show his reflection. In the film’s first of several well-choreographed and edited sequences, Jerry enters Charley’s bedroom without his knowing. A brief and nearly silent (so as not to wake up mother) struggle between man and monster begins. Jerry captures Charley holding his throat in a death grip and upon slamming Brewster against the wall, white powder from the crumbled wall dusts Charley’s hair which immediately resembles one being aged by fear - - his hair literally turns white! The struggle intensifies as Jerry guides Charley by the neck out of his second-floor window and in the heat of battle, Brewster reaches for a framed-picture of his girlfriend which he accidentally tosses from the window as it is staked and shattered by the picket fence below (a foreboding element?). This in turn awakens Mrs. Brewster and Jerry spares Charley’s life as he turns, walks out of Charley’s bedroom and materializes into a bat to escape out of the hallway window.
Before his life is conceivably destroyed, Charley is unable in his attempts to enlist the help of his friend aptly named “Evil” Ed Thompson (Stephen Geoffreys) who is as equally enthusiastic about horror and gothic culture as he is. Charley’s only alternative for support is Peter Vincent (whose namesake is a combination of renowned horror actors Peter Cushing and Vincent Price), host of Charley’s favorite horror television program, “Fright Night” and legendary vampire killer. He hatches a plot to kill his neighbor whom he is convinced is a vampire. At first, Vincent is reluctant to help poor Charley when he is regrettably fired from his nightly television program (cleverly and like Dandridge’s sleeping hours, filmed in a studio during the day) before finding out he is to be evicted from his apartment. He imparts to Charley that contemporary audiences would much rather watch maniacs in ski masks chop up young virgins as opposed to watching the types of films that make up Vincent’s lifelong oeuvre: surrounding that of the vampire; in a scene that subtly balances humor and romanticizes the classical cinematic craft in which McDowall himself had acted for nearly a half of a century. In a brilliant turn of events during Peter’s first encounter with Charley’s neighbor while accompanied by Ed, Amy and Charley, Dandridge’s inability to cast a reflection in Peter’s mirror awakens in him a rebirth of courage to believe in and eventually fight the attractive vampire. This startles him so much that he drops his pocket mirror to the floor simultaneously crushing the film’s earlier treatise against the self-reflexivity and existence of the vampire film - - and then the fun begins. Another element of duality appears in the form of Charley’s girlfriend mirroring that of Dandridge’s former lover in a painting in Jerry’s parlor. Although there is no mirror present, the likeness between the two women connected through the framed artwork is remarkably uncanny.
Once Dandridge’s secret is foiled, the protagonists safely flee his home, but not before Jerry steps on a sliver of glass left by Peter’s broken pocket mirror. Dandridge disregards Vincent and chases the trio of youngsters into the city confronting Ed separately from Amy and Charley. Through a dynamic sound design and the assistance of a craned camera, Jerry is able to walk along a metal fire escape several feet from the ground overhead of “Evil” and gracefully appear on the floor of the alleyway in one continuous take. Ed’s demise is imminent. After hearing what they believe is Ed’s screaming a few blocks behind them, Amy and Charley race into a downtown club setting into motion (literally) one of the film’s signature sequences in which music, dance and light combine to make a scene of incredible power enhanced by the seductive energy of Dandridge over every living thing in his orbit. Women reach out to touch him. Jerry seems to glide through the rabble. He exudes total sexual magnetism. While Charley tries to reach Peter on a telephone, Amy is compelled to join Jerry’s side through a noisy and crowded dance floor as the musical notes of the film’s soundtrack match the characters’ movements just as well as the beats present in just about any classical film musical number. The dance begins. Watch closely his hand as he reaches out for Amy’s shoulder. Amy falls under her Master’s spell as he obviously tries to rekindle in her feelings he once had for her long since deceased double. They perform all of this without uttering one word. The scene proves a picture (or series thereof) are worth thousands of words and the blocking of the characters and direction of the action comes compliments of a deft hand. They rhythmically waltz through the crowd past several mirrors which ironically reveals his true identity to Amy. However, she is helpless. Charley, likewise, is helpless in garnering Peter’s support and returns to rescue Amy. Jerry, unable to kill Charley in public (another devout law of vampirism), advises that if he wants to see Amy (alive) again, he and Peter need to rendezvous at his home that evening.
What follows in the film’s second and far gorier half, is a series of incredible creature effects transformations compliments of visual effects producer, Richard Edlund, of STAR WARS, POLTERGEIST and GHOSTBUSTERS fame. As FRIGHT NIGHT itself is a type of compendium of vampire lore, the true-to-life special effects that are realized at this moment in the film satisfy its chronology in the historically cinematic vampire timeline. Whereas in the beginning of the film, the implication is that characters have been murdered and so the audience sees what resembles bodies sealed in plastic bags. With real horror in the world and in the news, we have a good sense of how a human is killed. Shown in vivid detail in the film, however, is the destruction of each of the film’s monsters and is not so much gory as it is a fabulous example of a master craftsman and effects team at work with paints, creams, gelatin and pyrotechnics. Some of the marvelous effects realized in the film’s closing chapters include a sacred cross pressing against and melting a vampire’s forehead as if the religious object were a hot iron; a remarkable metamorphosis of an injured half-vampire/half-wolf that crashes through a chandelier from a second-floor landing to the floor below before returning to human form; and one of the more elaborately-choreographed mutations involving a stake subduing Jerry’s servant on a stairwell resulting in his flesh melting down to his bones as a Prell shampoo-like substance oozes from his pores prior to turning to dust as his rickety skeleton falls and shatters into several hundred pieces. Watch how they did it.
The stage is set for the final showdown in Jerry Dandridge’s suburban palace. Undoubtedly a nod to the campy, highly-stylized and Gothic horror films produced by Hammer during the two decades beginning in the 1950’s, the climax features lavishly-designed set pieces including a modified version of Jerry’s home that literally breathes white fog and creaks as if it is a ship devoid of passengers and cargo while floating at sea. As a bitten and mortally wounded Amy begins her own transformation into a vampire in Jerry’s bedroom, Charley and Peter face off with the head (vampire) of the household with their blessed armaments intent on fighting tooth and nail. Dawn approaches and Amy’s fate is surely sealed. The nearly two-dozen cuckoo and antique clocks scattered throughout Jerry’s home start to sound their deafening chimes as the sun’s early rays pierce through Dandridge’s stained-glass window. Jerry leaps into mid-air and transmogrifies into a vampire bat encircling his prey at the bottom of the stairwell before taking refuge in the basement (modern-day horror’s version of the dungeon). Daylight fills the upper (berth) floors of the home as the pair of vampire hunters follow Dandridge into his lair only to find his ages-old coffin has been sealed shut from the inside. As Peter aggressively pounds away at the metal slats of Dandridge’s wooden cocoon, Charley is distracted by a viciously revamped Amy who similarly wants to drive her fresh fangs into his neck as she violently plows through the belongings in Jerry’s basement towards her human target. Managing to break through the coffin’s shell, Peter repeatedly hammers a stake into Dandridge’s chest as he quickly rises from his resting state to Peter’s dismay. He forcefully pulls the makeshift stake from his heart and throws it across the room accidentally breaking one of the darkened windows that his dutiful assistant had painted black. Unable to return to the safety of his coffin, Peter and Charley destroy all of the windows throughout the chamber flooding the entire room with light thereby neutralizing Dandridge as he is sent hurling to the cement wall and bursts into flames. Amy returns to her original human form as Dandridge’s reign of terror and the most frightening of nights comes to an end.
Peter Vincent obligatorily returns to his job hosting “Fright Night” as Charley and Amy embrace while watching their friend’s late night television program. Across the property, Charley notices what looks like a pair of red eyes flashing from inside Dandridge’s uninhabited bedroom which he shrugs off. The unexplained ending leaves itself open for a sequel which would come three years later as Jerry’s sister, Regine (Julie Carmen), takes revenge on those who killed her brother. A fine film in its own right, the sequel and several cinematic imitators can’t hold a candle to the true originality of the very first FRIGHT NIGHT. Holland’s film also relished in showing a quirk on the part of Dandridge regarding how he ate and treated his teeth ‘between meals’: he ate lots of apples. In addition to practicing good hygiene, Jerry Dandridge may be, without a doubt, the most handsome and suave of cinema’s vampires. What sets mostly ingratiating horror villains such as vampires apart from other movie monsters is that besides being seductive and perpetually well-groomed, their ability to engage in a dialogue with characters (whether good or evil) in their shared screen space is a lot more favorable to watch than a deranged maniac donning a hockey mask or any other type costumed-gimmick determined to reach a high body count who often has very little (if anything) to say which proves a point: they’re brain-dead.
Despite all of the “trappings” as Regine Dandridge refers to them (i.e. crosses, roses and holy water), since the dawn of the earliest vampire film, those that have engaged in this lifestyle have slowly evolved and built up an immunity and may continue to do so until possibly becoming more human. Wouldn’t that be scary? Now if they would refrain from ‘feeding’, that would be an interesting development. The unfortunate fact behind such creatures as THE WOLF MAN is that their transformation into the beast is often outside of their control (i.e. the appearance of a full moon) and in order to become more human, their character needs to die. Vampires are culturally sensitive to sunlight, but as found in the TWILIGHT series of films, daylight instead makes their skin sparkle. If mankind has anything in common with the movie monster, it would most certainly be that of the screen vampire: occasional cognizance of sunlight; sudden surges of almost superhuman strength; I suppose one may often check their reflection in a mirror not to engage in narcissism but to make certain they are still human. Man, like the common horror film and the characters that populate them, will always be in a state of constant evolution. Thankfully, films like FRIGHT NIGHT developed earlier than most films of this caliber and have a right to an eternal rest.
P.S. It’s easy to miss, but as Peter Vincent bares his soul to Charley about how much of a coward he is in fighting the undead, he reveals that Peter Vincent isn’t even his real name - - a modicum of poignant information that goes further unexplained adding depth and mystery to his character.
