Anime #21: Everyone’s Cravin’ That VAMPIRE HUNTER D (Patreon)

Note: Ahhhhh, nothing like getting that Halloween column up a day too late because you had a surprisingly busy week! Anyway, I wanted to watch something Halloween-y and after some quick, probably limited googling I ended up watching not only 1985’s Vampire Hunter D, but also 2000’s Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust. But I’m weirdly thankful I watched both because they provide an interesting framework for examination!

CW: Discussion of violence / sexual assault within the films’ material.

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11 year old boys got fed a lot of bullshit.

It’s often done in the name of “catering to their interests,” but often it's just an excuse to feed the most regressive impulses both for the adult artist and the young audience in turn. But perhaps this was especially in days of yore. I mean, I was a kid in the hyper-masculine 80’s, a teen in the disaffected 90’s, and a young adult in the early 2000’s celeb trashing culture. And when I think about how much toxic, heteronormative, and misogynistic stuff was baked into this entire landscape, I realize how much of it still seeped in against even the most well-inclined of instincts. Perhaps it was even worse before those decades, perhaps it's always been this way, and perhaps it’s still true in so many ways now. But all I can think about is how natural it all seemed when we started coming out of childhood.

Because when you start coming out of that first decade of life, you suddenly feel the limits of your youth so you want to cast away childhood aspersions. Especially with the things that really scare you. This is likely why we gravitate toward the safety of “horror” type media in the first place. We have to stare down the fear of death and embrace the blood and guts reality of the human body because we HAVE to find it amusing, otherwise we’ll find it too real and horrifying. It’s also a space where you look at your own developing neurosis and social fears and start desperately craving the posture of cool badasses who can’t be bothered by anyone. Where you shun away vulnerability and want the power fantasy of not just respect, but control. It’s easy to look back now and demonize these inclinations, but I recognize it’s probably not helpful and just helps stigmatize the same inclinations. After all, society embraces these inclinations in so many other ways that it can feel unavoidable. More importantly, there’s still plenty of harmless (or at least tongue and cheek) ways that adults can still play in that space of youthful “badassery” and make genuinely entertaining fare. But it still comes with the acknowledgment that there are plenty of harmful ways some adults get trapped in that space, too.

Either way, there’s going to be entertainment that caters to those 11 year old wants and inclinations. Sometimes it’s going to be fun and irreverent. Sometimes it’s going to offer surprisingly thoughtful breakdowns of those inclinations. And sometimes it’s going to come from those who got trapped and be so nakedly craven that it wants the harmful cycle to go on in perpetuity. And sometimes, it’s a mix of all three. And I thought about all of them as I watched these two Vampire Hunter D films. Because their differences and similarities spoke so vividly toward these youthful inclinations. And the spectrum of “11 year old boy” entertainment that surrounded us at the time.

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Watching 1985’s Vampire Hunter D was like stepping into a time machine.

Mostly because it uses an animation style I had seen in awhile, but was instantly familiar with, whether it be the Saturday morning appointment television of Voltron, He-Man, or Silverhawks (please tell me someone else remembers this one) or more the titillating R-Rated fare of VHS fare like Akira or Heavy Metal especially. The latter of which was the kind of film that a gaggle of boys would surround a TV with during a sleep over and watch with wide-eyed wonder. In terms of pure aesthetics, it was honestly a kind of a trip to go back to that space. But Vampire Hunter D also captures that sense of how the 80’s loved to throw every bit of mix between sword and sorcery, and insane creatures right in with this otherworldly sci-fi and 80’s punk aesthetic. Forget being “grounded,” there’s no rules to much of anything. Just the anarchy of constantly changing rules and circumstances as it throws monster after magic after monster at us. There’s an inherent joy to watching anything this unhinged, especially when it’s a reminder of when this kind of “eh who cares, have fun” brand of storytelling was once more the norm in kid’s entertainment.

But from the opening scene on, I have to say. I bounced off the textbook misogyny pretty quick. I mean, it’s not coy about any of it. Whether it’s the constant allusion to rape, the way it plays with purity politics while simultaneously getting off on it, or the unblinking, bare bones offers of things “three meals a day and you can sleep with me if you want.” Even the woman’s “red blood” moon casts a shadow on the proceedings. It would be one thing if it was doing anything really with this thematically. But instead it just turns pretty hard into all the ugly tropes we’ve talked about a million times. So I won’t. Instead, the only interesting conversation to really be had about it is in looking through the lens of the main character himself - and finding the specificity in the psychology of what he embraces.

Because who is D? On paper, he’s just meant to be the strong and silent protagonist. The one in tradition with “the man with no name,” who comes to town to save those in need. But everything about his persona is just so turned up to 11. It’s his imposing figure. The way he’s not just quiet, but often silent and caked in shadow. And all his actions are almost impossibly stoic and badass. There are some moments where opponents get advantage, but he always has that power of getting the control back. Even when nearly done for, the soul-sucking snake ladies shout out “what kind of man is he? He is overwhelming us!!” That word choice is so specific and feels so dead on with what the movie is really after. Because it’s really a maximum indulgence story for emotional repression.

But to the film’s credit, we do eventually hit a character conflict because D is a Dampiel (half human half vampire basically) and thus supplanting a lot of his vampire urges here (lots of similarities with Blade). And I love how much of the stated conflict comes from his conversations with his hand parasite thing (I also love that neither movie ever really got into the lore of where it came from) because it’s a wonderful way to have a knowing character poking fun at our silent hero. But so much of the extenuating circumstances doesn’t get after his character in the same way. Especially given how much of his vampire-ness is so sexually charged, it’s like he’s constantly going “oh no, my vampire boner! And retreating inward to wallow in his curse, while constantly rescuing this same damsel at the same time.

I understand that there’s a way to find the absurdity of all this rather amusing. I really do. The problem is that I don’t find the psychology of what’s being catered to all that absurd. Because it’s basically the emotional starter pack for incel-leaning thought. It is a testament to heroic isolation. Its purity politics. It's an irreconcilable Madonna / whore complex. It’s resentment toward women for making you feel “weak.” It’s catering to the “I could get any girl IF I wanted to, but I don’t want to because of duty or whatever. It’s the ultimate control through self preservation. It’s being THE BEST and most desirable and yet the real victory is knowing that while still being alone, because the character, nor audience, would see victory in any kind of real intimacy or vulnerability. There is only the righteousness of violent loneliness. Because you are “cursed” to live that one true heroic path.

Granted, I recognize that this may not be the most generous reading of what’s happening, but it’s all there. And it’s the kind of thing that sets off my klaxons time and time again. But what’s interesting is the comparison. Specifically when I look at this from another angle in the 11 year old entertainmen paradigm…

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Why do I love 1982’s Conan The Barbarian?

Is it simply because I watched it a lot as a kid and have that baked-in nostalgia? Is it because it genuinely offers more thoughtful displays and less ugly tropes? Or am I ignoring even UGLIER messaging? Or does Milius, ever critical of the emasculation of society, offer things that secretly cater to something more familiar inside? Is it that I can brush aside the anti-hippy sentiment as passe? Aren’t both of these films clear power fantasies? I’ll say this, while so much of the sword and sorcery feels similar in terms of the sexist tropes that populate the respective worlds, for me, it comes down to a simple difference in the main characters.

Because Arnold’s version of Conan is totally a himbo. He’s naive and unworldly, almost like an instinctive baby slowly pattering through the world. There’s something so much more endearing about that to me. But there’s actual growth there, too. Not just physical, but actually learning some lessons along the way (and given the film’s ending coda, implied wisdom). And while his relationship with Valeria certainly plays into a lot of heteronormative tropes, there’s something far more intimate and equal than what you’d ever find from Vampire Hunter D.

But moreover the key difference has to do with cinematic emphasis, even when it comes down to literal framing. Because there’s so much in Conan The Barbarian that gets presented plainly, as if violence and orgiastic nature is just a part of the world’s unruly fabric. But so much of Vampire Hunter D feels like it zeroes in on things (much like the ogling townsfolk it supposedly demonizes). Like the way it slows the animation when Doris’s cross gets taken and her boob pops out. Heck, it’s pretty much every way that she’s animated from start to finish. Given the emphasis on maintaining her purity, there’s that overwhelming sense of hypocrisy to it all, the “it’s okay when I do it” mantra. Which is all part of the simple reality of cinema: it’s not just what you’re looking at, it’s how the film is looking at it.

And nothing may prove this more than the follow-up film…

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So Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust is pretty darn good, huh?

For one, there’s this incredible sense of craft and mood from start to finish, but it all starts with the way it turns into the Western influence of it all (meaning cowboy stuff) to evoke a whole different mindset. Because while so much of the “what” is the same - from the revealing outfits to the badassery - it’s just so much less indulgent to the way it animates / characterizes everything. Like the way it emphasizes D’s distance and practicality instead of his imposing size and mysterious allure, which just makes “the man with no name” schtick work so much better. And by putting him in surprisingly humane “competition” with the rival hunter team, it quickly undermines all his solo act fantasy crap. And by making the rescue target involved in an actually complex situation (because she’s willingly in love with said vampire) it actually makes for an interesting dilemma inside him.

But it’s not just D, every character feels much more three dimensional (at least by comparison to the prior film). The rival hunter gang, while mostly being composed of a series of fun abilities and postures, is still ripe with pathos and displays of genuine emotion. Each one of the losses hit hard there. Especially because the villains are weird and playful and often actually scary (I love the shadow and tree vampires). But most of all, I was surprised how well D’s relationship with the Leila character ended up working. We meet our headstrong female hunter and at first I was worried that it was trying to play into the “heh, careful lady, you think you’re tougher than me? You’re good, but know your place as second best!” trope that shows up in a lot of this stuff. But instead it ends up being interesting in the breakdowns of both these characters. Because it’s not really about their power dynamic at all. It’s genuinely asking, “why do we do what we do with our instincts?” in a world full of trauma, loss, and nihilism. And in the end, offers something so much different when it comes to the theme of repression.

Like the best work of Nolan and Villeneuve, it actually WANTS to get underneath the outer layer and find the sentiment underneath, however understated. Unlike the last film, Bloodlust is not secretly celebrating lonesome idealism. Especially when you take in the beautiful simplicity of the ending scenes: (spoilers for the ending for rest of paragraph) Going from Leila’s crying in happiness as she watches as the vampire escape in the rocket, now being free, to suddenly cutting years later to Leila’s funeral, all to make good on the line about no one being there to mourn, only to find a whole mass of people from the life she went on to create? It’s one of those perfect little statements. The idea she went from a life chasing death to finding a life worth living? And the idea that D genuinely calls her a friend? It’s not that it’s merely “happy,” it’s that it so clearly unpacks all the toxicity of the messaging in the other movie. And does so in the exact kind of understated way that still upholds D’s lonesomeness and inclination toward silence, just picking the exact right words that show more under the surface. While being so much “the same,” the thematic difference between the two could not be more stark.

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What I hope this all shows is how important framing, both literal and figurative, are to how we engage with the more youthful inclinations in art. Because when it comes to things that speak to the “11 year old” inside, we all fall on this kind of spectrum of what tropes we more readily forgive and which we don’t. Which is why it's so important to ask questions in that process. Why do I like this? Is it feeding the wrong thing? Is it tongue and cheek enough? Is it actually trying to get at themes of complex adulthood? Is it trying to wrap its head around the same things I struggle with? What’s it really saying, anyway? What does it really want from me? And most of all, what am I really getting out of watching this?

There’s no set answers, of course. But that’s because horror and the things that scare us - along with the things we rise above in turn - are always so dang personal.

But it couldn’t be any other way.

<3HULK