Shadow of the Vampire (2000)

Director: E. Elias Merhige

Cast: John Malkovich, Willem Dafoe, Cary Elwes, Suzy Eddie Izzard

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. It’s hard to think of a movie in this era that was more coming for me directly than this one. It’s a little strange to think that it has taken this long for us to get around to it on Beyond the Cabin in the Woods. That being said, it’s weird to admit that my DVD has quite possibly not seen the light of day since I originally bought it in 2001.

Did I Like It: There’s a lot to like here, but not without some disappointments. Dafoe is swinging for the fences with his performance, and chewing scenes in the best possible way. Of particular delight is the scene where Schreck/Orlock is on his own and manages to take in a rush of a sunrise, and is absolutely transfixed by the mere possibility of film. It reminds me of a scene in Chaplin (1992) where Robert Downey Jr. is similarly transfixed by the celluloid possibilities in front of him, and even that scene had to be propped up by voice over narration. It also reminds me of the sequence in Interview with the Vampire (1994) where Brad Pitt is similarly distracted by the possibilities of going to the movies. Here, all we are given is Dafoe’s face, and the film of the sun. The point is made all the same, and honestly gives the only good argument for vampirism that I’ve yet to hear. Somebody comes around and tells me they have a way for me to see films released even beyond my lifetime, I’m going to need someone to talk me down.

And yet, there’s something so singular about his face that the great makeup job can’t quite erase Dafoe from the character he is playing, like the makeup job in the 1920s did for the real (or is he?) Max Schreck in Nosferatu (1922). It’s a minor complaint, given that Dafoe’s face is almost a special effect in its own way. Just try to continue staring at the hypnotic opening titles that tries to make something human out of Dafoe’s face and Art Deco elements. It’s easily the most unnerving sequences of this or any horror movie.

My real reservation about the film is structural, though. Searching for a new cinematographer after their first one is waylaid by the downsides of vampirism, Murnau (Malkovich, playing himself) disappears from the movie for some time. This renders the second more than a little aimless and disorganized, robbing the film of its central tension between Murnau and Schreck when it could use it the most.

RKO 281 (1999)

Director: Benjamin Ross

Cast: Liev Schreiber, James Cromwell, Melanie Griffith, John Malkovich

Have I Seen it Before: I was probably the only 15 year old on the planet who practically gasped when he saw an ad for the film on HBO, and then ensured he stayed home on a Friday night to watch it as it first aired. It was shortly after first seeing this film that the idea occurred to me of trying to graft a fantastical adventure onto the War of the Worlds broadcast. Twenty-plus years later, I’m just now culminating those flitting ideas that this movie put in my head.

Did I Like It: Ultimately, trying to force this story, with all of the implications for Welles (Schreiber) future and the support of Hearst’s (Cromwell) life diminishes things a little bit. Despite ominous hints that he’ll never top the achievement of Citizen Kane (1941), it largely paints Welles as triumphant at the end of the picture. Mank (2020) tries its level-headed best to take Mankiewicz’s (Malkovich) side in the conflict. The Battle Over Citizen Kane (1996) covers the topic more thoroughly, and more hauntingly.

But I can’t not love this film. So many depictions of Welles depict him as a pillar of pure—some times tragic, sometimes conniving—genius. This film occasionally has the gall (let’s face it, honesty) to depict him as a fairly young kid who can’t help but doubt his own ability to get the job done. That makes Welles as depicted by Schreiber feel close to what I imagine a twenty-five year old kid with self-destructive impulses given the freedom to do whatever he wanted in Hollywood, however briefly. That feeling helps to offset the unavoidable reality that of all the people to depict Welles on film, Schreiber looks and sounds like the imminently recognizable Welles the least. Come to think of it, only Cromwell and Griffith have any resemblance to the people they depict. Does it really count as a weakness? By all rights it should take me out of the film, but the proceedings manage to hold up just fine.