Human Monsters: A look into George Romero’s Martin

In honor of one of my favorite actor's birthday, the inimitable John Amplas, I am re-posting an article I wrote about George Romero's best film, MARTIN. Originally published in issue #22 of Screem magazine, it was a real joy getting to share it with the man himself a couple of years ago. (With much thanks to my friend & fellow film writer Greg Goodsell for encouraging me to do so!) Anyways, enjoy!

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Some people believe that monsters are born, not made-that there are those who are literally a “bad seed” that grows up to be a rapist, dictator, or murderer. Of course, if life was that black and white, then there would be no need for the horror genre. The reasons we’re attracted to horror are multifaceted, but the basic reason is that it is a safe way for us to explore our fears and the darker side of human nature. When it comes down to it, monsters are most certainly made, not born. Mary Shelley knew that when she wrote Frankenstein and George Romero knew that when he made his underrated masterpiece, Martin.

Martin is that rare film where each star in the sky aligned around 1977 and everyone involved brought their A-game. Intelligent, emotional, and haunting, there has never been a movie like Martin. The movie centers around a young man named Martin (John Amplas), whose boyish appearance may or may not mask an age-old vampire. Whether or not his vampirism is supernatural or an aspect of a deeper pathology is really not the main point, though it is one I will get to here in a bit. The real disease is the familial sins that Martin is ultimately the martyr for, along with all of his victims. While it is a vastly different film, Martin’s theme of the innocent paying for family dysfunction brings to mind is Walerian Borowczyk’s La Bete (1975), where the main family’s son literally dies from his ancestor’s cursed deeds. The innocent always pays for the guilty’s sins.

Horror cinema up to that point had not seen anything quite the likes of Martin. The closest heir is would have to be Hitchcock’s groundbreaking film, Psycho (1960). Both feature boyish leads who are powerless to their darker urges, often fueled by psycho-sexual impulses and unhealthy rearing. Norman Bates kills due to his potentially incestuous upbringing from his mother and Martin kills because he was raised to think he carries the family “curse” of vampirism. Norman and Martin are two characters that are captivating and at times, even sympathetic, putting the audience in the uncomfortable position of having to identify with a killer.

Both films also feature some amazing and emotionally impactive musical scores. The Bernard Herrmann score for Psycho is now legendary, but the Donald Rubinstein soundtrack for Martin is just as good. The sign of a perfect film score is when you cannot envision the film without it and this is most definitely the case with these two films.

Martin was even supposed to be entirely in black & white in its original 3-hour form. (Sadly that print has become lost to the ether.) Certainly, neither film would be half as powerful without possessing actors as innately talented and physically striking as Anthony Perkins and John Amplas.

But what Psycho hinted at, Martin bravely delves right in and simmers. Vampire or no, Martin is our protagonist and is an amazingly complex, sympathetic, and ultimately sad character. We’re never really told about his parentage, but he ends up with his batty and uber-cantankerous uncle Tata Cuda, played to the hilt by the memorable Lincoln Maazel. Cuda is immediately accusing Martin of being a “nosferatu” and reacting extremely hostile to him, to the extent of rigging up a crude alarm on Martin’s bedroom door to keep tabs on his comings and goings. He even hires a priest to perform an old school Catholic exorcism on the boy, which will hit too close to home for anyone who has to grow up with religious fundamentalism.

Part of Romero’s genius is how he approaches Martin’s “vampirism.” While there has been a debate for years over whether or not Martin is a true supernatural vampire or a victim of mental illness, most of the signs point to the latter. Romero himself said as much in the featurette on the Lion’s Gate DVD, Making Martin: A Recounting. A good chunk of the confusion is fueled by the black & white flashbacks/visions that Martin has, especially when stalking his victims. If anything, these scenes serve a dual purpose.

The first purpose being to put us into the head space of Martin and how he is romanticizing his life and his deeds. He is never shown to be truly cruel and is often surprisingly gentle with his prey (Well, as gentle as one can be when murdering and drinking blood). The real world is ugly and full of people that are often rude and ignorant. Being placed in the industrial and rotting landscape of urban Pennsylvania doesn’t help matters. One could say that he is flashing back to his past life. But more than likely, it’s a coping mechanism for the intense unhappiness in his life. Even when religious folks and angry villagers are terrorizing him, it all plays out like a classic, 1930’s horror film.

All of this ties into the second purpose of the flashbacks. They are a brilliant device to play on what the viewer is expecting with a “vampire” film, all the while giving them the hard reality that the closest, proven thing we have to the creatures of the night have more in common with someone like Ted Bundy than they do with Dr. Alucard. After all, vampires are the mythical world’s serial killers.

Heavily dysfunctional families usually have patterns of unhealthy behavior that can cycle back a couple of generations. So it’s no surprise that a lot of real life killers had extremely unhealthy upbringings. Martin was brought up with the notion that he was this bloodthirsty supernatural killer while never being treated like an actual human being.

On the flip side, his cousin Christina (Christine Forrest), one of the very few people who are actually kind to Martin, grew up in the same family and turned out healthy. Which is very true to life. Plenty of us grow up with dysfunction and yet manage to turn out to be fine. Yet, if someone is especially sensitive, naturally prone to mental instability, and abused enough, you’ll get your vampire. Just don’t necessarily expect him or her to be some romantic, poet shirt-wearing hipster.

One of the things that makes Martin such a frightening killer is the intelligence and agility he displays while going after his victims. The garage scene is especially hard to forget. There is nothing scarier than a smart killer and he is definitely no exception. Alternately, it does make his situation all the more sad, because if he had been nurtured by a sane family, who knows what potential may have been reached.

Finding any horror film, now or then, that is intelligent enough to incorporate the shades of gray instead of the typical black/white moral pantheon, can be a rare thing. But this film would not be half as powerful without the lynchpin performance of John Amplas. He is to this film what Kinski was to Aguirre, the Wrath of God (1972). Romero could not have found a more perfect actor than Amplas, who is able to convey a myriad of emotions with his face alone.

Physically, he is Martin. At times he looks amazingly boyish, complete with awkward gait and downcast eyes. Yet he is able to simultaneously project a world-weariness that lends itself well to someone who either thinks he is a vampire or actually is a vampire. His combination of striking looks and subtle emoting results in making Martin one of the best roles in film. In a just world, guys like Amplas, Romero, Rubinstein, and Tom Savini, who did the effects along with playing Christina’s mook boyfriend, would be winning Oscars left and right. Which is just further proof of the country club mentality that is Hollywood.

It should also be noted that this is a good-looking film, courtesy of cinematographer Michael Gornick. The framing, the choice of camera angles, all of it is tight and plays up everything that needs to be played up. Tension is created during the stalk and kill scenes, though some of the most haunting scenes are the ones of Martin walking around the city at night. The sense of loneliness is damn near tangible, making the movie all the more effective and powerful.

Martin is one of the greatest horror films ever made. Not because of the blood, but because it shows the damage that can be done when one’s family, biology, and mental state fails them. This movie is a masterpiece of nuance, emotion, and the deep fissures in the human condition.

In Memoriam: Tribute to Don Van Vliet, John Leslie and Jean Rollin

Recently, a number of legendary artists have passed away, each one leaving both a void and a distinguished fingerprint behind. In addition to the great Leslie Neilsen and Blake Edwards, there have been three whose talents and vision have left a huge impact on me as a person and an artist. The three in question are Jean Rollin, Don Van Vliet (of Captain Beefheart fame) and John Leslie. 

Van Vliet from the fantastic Beefheart album, Ice Cream for Crow.

An insanely gifted painter as well as musician, was one of those rare birds who changed everything while never being able to be pinned down as anything. The only label you could put on this man is the genius one. 

John Leslie was a guy that wore many hats as well; actor, musician and director. An intensely underrated actor, Leslie was a multi-leveled thespian who could pull off likable, sleazy, sinister, polished, piggish and lovable rogue with equal ability. Whether he was playing commitment-phobe with a heart of gold Jack in Anthony Spinelli's NOTHING TO HIDE or the highly dysfunctional millionaire gone to seed Lee Balcourt in Cecil Howard's highly recommended FIRESTORM Trilogy, he could truly do it all. Even in lesser films, Leslie was always the best thing about them. He's truly one of my favorites and his star will always shine in this household. 

John Leslie in Dave Friedman's BLONDE HEAT. 

Last, but certainly not least, was the loss of French director Jean Rollin, who re-invented horror films and managed to incorporate a painter's eye for visual mixed with a strange and occasionally sad tone to his films. Some of Rollin's best films could be described as beautiful and haunting fever dreams. My first Rollin film was the intense and melancholy LIPS OF BLOOD/LEVRES DE SANG, thanks to Cultcuts having me review it. It made me a convert and in proper tribute, here's my original review in its full state. Though words do not really do full justice to this film and director. 

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LIPS OF BLOOD REVIEW 

Few genres of horror have become creatures of convention like the vampire film. From decadent

Euro-type lady magnets to the soulful loner who walks the Earth guilt ridden, they have all been done to death and then some. Even in 1975, the vampire genre had already become one riddled with stereotypes.

So it takes an artist with a distinct vision and boatload of talent to use these conventions and bend them to create something fresh and effective. One such artist is French director, screenwriter and author Jean Rollin, whose film, LIPS OF BLOOD aka LEVRES DE SANG, is one of the best vampire films to

have come out in the past thirty years.

In fact, the film opens with that classic horror locale, the old graveyard. At night, no less!

A white van approaches an old Parisian graveyard, where two men and a woman, clad entirely in dust brown, right down to the veiled hat. The group starts to load in bodies, all of them ensheathed tightly by white sheets. These seemingly lifeless forms are taken into a beautiful and gothic tomb, and then placed

in plain wooden coffins. Just when you think this is business as usual, there is one of the most subtle but extremely effective shots in the film. The veiled woman, with a melancholy stare, looks at one of the

bodies as it starts to gasp for air through the sheet. It’s so simple but so creepy.

Immediately after that, we cut to a jazzy, in crowd type of party, which is where we meet Frederic

(Jean-Loup Philippe) and his doting mother (Nathalie Perrey). While talking to his date, Frederic

suddenly becomes entranced by a photo used in a Parfum Nordia ad. This photo is an image of a huge, foreboding castle, still strong looking despite the moss and the ruin. It is this image that proves to be a catalyst for not only Frederic but for the rest of the film.

When he was a young boy, Frederic’s father died, which had some how triggered a huge memory loss within him. Seeing the photo brings him back to when he was a young boy on the verge of puberty. He is lost at night, around the same ruins in the photo. He is rescued by a beautiful, young woman with short, dark hair, red lips and clad entirely in white. She covers him with her sweater and lets him sleep in the castle until dawn approaches, when she quickly sends him back to his mother. Young Frederic tells her he loves her and now adult Frederic is determined to find this woman. The one he may still love, after all

these years.

His mother immediately attempts to put this thought out of his mind and tries to convince him that it was just a fever dream of youth. But the wheels are already in motion and he quickly finds the photographer who shot the photo. This leads to the only scene in the whole film that seems a little out of place,

involving the lady photographer shooting a fully nude and amorous model. There is a nice contrast in the scene involving the image of the saucy model and the sole sound of the camera clicking. No music or dialogue, just a cold and mechanical sound.

The photographer originally plays coy, but agrees to meet him at the Aquarium at midnight, where she

has another shoot. She takes a liking to him and decides that she will tell him the information he wants then. The man’s got a few hours to spare, so he goes to a terrific looking cinema, whose outside walls

have this great, sort of Indian or Turkish inspired mural. He goes inside the theater, which is playing Rollin’s LA VAMPIRE NUE (1969), and soon sees the young girl. Naturally, he follows her and keeps doing so until he ends up in the graveyard that was in the beginning of the film. Unknowingly, he

unleashes four vampire women upon the city.

The scene of the vampire women arising is one of the most arresting and frightening scenes ever in a vampire movie. It’s hard to describe, but there is this quick rhythm to the scene that comes out of

nowhere. So that combined with the arresting looks of the vampiresses makes it memorable, to say the

very least. In firm Rollin tradition, the four of them are in pairs. Two of them are clothed only in long, sheer fabrics and, not unlike the sisters in REQUIEM POUR UN VAMPIRE (1971), are blonde and brunette. The other two, my personal favorites, are two flaxen haired twins (Catherine and Marie-Pierre Castel) whose ethereal beauty barely masks their own feral nature.

From there on, the audience, along with Frederic, is taken upon a strange and very surreal ride, involving

a hired hit man, strait jackets, a bonfire of bodies, and a final image that is haunting and sadly beautiful, which could very well describe the entire tone of the film. Unsettling but very lovely.

Jean Rollin has made a substantial cult career in making erotically tinged films, ranging from the horrific (LE VIOL DU VAMPIRE (1967) to the wholly erotic (BACCHANALES SEXUELLES (1974). What makes this interesting is that, aside from the camera scene, none of the nudity or even love scenes comes across as strictly erotic. That tinge is definitely there but there is purity and menace there that is

extremely hard to portray, even by usually competent filmmakers and actors. You just have to look at the Dracula’s brides scene in BRAM STOKER’S DRACULA (1992) to see that. The nudity and vampire women are there but totally lack the inherent scary sexiness that Rollin’s vampire femmes possess.

Visually, this is a gorgeous film. I’ve heard of it being compared to the works of Argento, in terms of

color. Both men are visual masters, but Rollin opts for more toned down colors that are striking without being overwhelming. There are a lot of light colors here, with the only noticeable dark colors being the ruddy mouths of the women and the purple fabric draping the nude blonde vampire.

As Frederic, Jean-Loup Philippe does a really great job of portraying a haunted man with good

intentions, who thankfully lacks the naiveté one would expect with this type of character. (See

Jonathon Harker.) He also assisted in the writing of the film, which makes one wish he could have done

more work with Rollin. Like everyone else in the film, he is physically interesting to look at it, with his

tall frame, blue yes and boyish, permanent messed up hair. Bizarrely, Philippe’s other best known film is the 1975 sex film LE SEXE QUI PARLE, which among other things, is known for inspiring the US

cult film, CHATTERBOX (1977).

Like so many notable filmmakers before and after him, Rollin tends to use some of the same people over and over again. Both the Castel twins and Annie Belle (who was the young girl that haunted Frederic)

were in BACCHANALES SEXUELLES. Plus, the former were also in Rollin’s PHANTASMES

(1975) and LA VAMPIRE NUE. Belle would go on to be in such movies as Joe D’Amato’s ABSURD (1982). Nathalie Perrey continued to work with Rollin for many years, including his most recently

released film LA FIANCEE DE DRACULA (2002).

Redemption did a terrific job with this disc, being the first Pal DVD release of LIPS OF BLOOD in the United Kingdom. In addition to a still and cover art gallery; there are two trailers for THE SINFUL

NUNS OF SAINT VALENTINE (1973) and THE BLOODSUCKER LEADS THE DANCE (1975). There is even a music video for The Nuns “White Slaves.” (Which will definitely appeal to the Goths

with a heavy fetish bent out there.) My only real complaint about this disc is that there are two instances

in the film where there are lines of dialogue without subtitles. Thankfully they are brief and don’t ruin

the film, but it is still a minor nuisance.

LIPS OF BLOOD is perfect for the art film lovers who also happen to love horror and visa versa. Not

only that, but it is a great hallmark in the long, colorful career of one of France’s greatest genre filmmakers.