Blade (1998) 1/2 star out of 4. Starring Wesley Snipes
It used to be that not just anyone could become a vampire.
Usually, you had to be an aristocrat - a count such as Dracula or Karnstein.
To qualify, you'd have to have a modicum of sophistication, so you'd at least look cool - or suave - when biting into some young damsel's throat.
But today, in our overly politically correct world, any scuzzy-looking, long-haired, unshaven lout or any spiked-haired harridans can put the bite on you.
By the same token, to be a vampire hunter, one had to have some sort of medical training and knowledge of the occult or maybe perhaps be some sort of professional soldier, or at least one who retired with honors.
Not in these times. All you need are some sharp weapons, some bullets forged from silver and any yahoo can be a Buffy - or a Blade.
Without sounding elitist, the fear of vampires has greatly diminished because of this lack of exclusivity.
Which brings us to Blade, the latest in a long line of vampire movies in which, it seems, half the population is putting the bite on the other half.
Not only are there thousands of vampires, but they seem to move from city to city, pay off police departments and, most importantly, establish their own exclusive after-hours raves in which the highlight is the sprinkler system going off and dousing all the occupants in a blood shower. With all that blood, you wonder why they have to hunt for victims. You also wonder when they get the time to get their clothes dry-cleaned and why no cleaner ever complains about all the bloodstains.
Blade, which is based on a Marvel comic book character, is, like a comic book, all visual. The plot is basically Blade repetitiously slashing his way through the vampire army seeking their leader, Deacon Frost.
It's all hokum and nonsense, of course. But the filmmakers play it straight.
Unfortunately, at least at the advance screening I attended, the audience didn't see it that way and laughed through much of the proceedings.
You know a movie is in trouble when the scenes of blood and gore that should elicit screams of fright instead evoke peels of laughter.
Another tell-tale sign is when the audience seems to be admiring the hero's costume more than the hero.
Also it seems it's not enough for today's vampire merely to have fangs. He must also be proficient in the martial arts. Why a supernatural being, one of the undead, needs such skills is beyond me. (Of course, this concept dates to the 1974 Hammer Films-Run Run Shaw production of Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires, in which Dracula is defeated by seven karate-chopping siblings.)
Wesley Snipes is buff as Blade. He growls his lines -the few he has - and spends most of the time glowering - as if he was suffering from indigestion or having second thoughts about starring in and co-producing this turkey.
Blade is just another example of how the vampire film, a once honorable member of the horror family, has gone downhill. This dud mostly makes you yearn for those quaint old days when Christopher Lee could be stopped just by dangling a crucifix in his face.
Today's vampires lack the panache, the style of a Bela Lugosi or a Christopher Lee. They are not even worthy enough to carry those great bloodsuckers' capes. They are more farcical than frightful.
This whole enterprise is one dull Blade that could have used lots of sharpening.
Bob Bloom is the film critic at the Journal and Courier in Lafayette, Ind. He can be reached by e-mail at bloom@journal-courier.com or at cbloom@iquest.net
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