THE CLASSICS: BLACULA and SCREAM BLACULA SCREAM
I've always wanted to see BLACULA. In high school, I had a mild interest in blaxploitation films, so I saw a few of the seminal works from the genre, as well as a few obscurities like Rudy Ray Moore's AVENGING DISCO GODFATHER. I was obsessed with funk music, so I enjoyed the soundtracks and the campy urban swagger of the protagonists. But horror movies were more my thing, and absurdist humor. When I heard the title BLACULA I thought it was hilarious. But I just never got around to tracking the film down. Years later, I still remember an episode of Whoopi Goldberg's short lived late night talk show, where Stephen King for some reason mentioned that he too had always wanted to see BLACULA. Whoopi said that it was a fascinating movie because Blacula was played exquisitely by a tremendous Shakespearean actor, but she said that the movie itself was really bad. Well, Whoopi was half right, as I discovered when I finally got around to renting the movie and promptly fell in love. BLACULA is a surprisingly effective little b-movie, with a unique cultural perspective and a sense of humor that still works today. Like a black Vincent Price, William Marshall (who I know primarily as the King of Cartoons on PEE WEE'S PLAYHOUSE) brings great dignity to his performance as the title character. Unique among blaxploitation films, BLACULA puts an afrocentric spin on the vampire myth and manages to make a cape-wearing bloodsucker seem right at home among afro-sporting urban hipsters. The film opens with a nicely crafted, Hammer style prologue between the African prince Mamuwalde and the eurocentric Count Dracula. Mamuwalde and his wife Lyuka (played by Vonetta McGee) have come as diplomats, imploring the Count to stop participating in the slave trade. But the white supremacist Dracula is insulted by the request and attacks his guests. Mamuwalde attempts some '70s cop show style fisticuffs - the first sign that this film will not continue in an entirely classical vein - but ends up bitten, locked in a coffin, and cursed with the epithet "Blacula". Suddenly, we are thrust into stark black and white animated credits and a predictably funky theme song. Voila - the tone has been set for a tremendously entertaining, uniquely appealing cult masterpiece. And when the real story begins, with the undead Mamuwalde stalking a black neighborhood in the '70s, it never lets up. Mamuwalde comes to the US via gay antique dealers who transport Count Dracula's belongings to their gallery in New York. Soon the antique dealers are dead and the prince is revived. Mingling with humans as Mamuwalde, he discovers a neighborhood beauty who he believes is the reincarnation of his wife. The story unfolds pretty much as you'd expect, with Mamuwalde trying to reunite with his soul mate, leaving a trail of bodies that end up disappearing from their coffins, and being tracked by cops who feel silly for believing in vampires. What's surprising about BLACULA is the tone and the masterful execution. I expected to laugh at this movie, not with it. But I really liked Mamuwalde, despite his wicked deeds, and believed in the film's consistent horror atmosphere. When I laughed, it was at the film's mercy. There are some very funny, out of the blue jokes that keep you on your toes.
I enjoyed BLACULA so much that I literally ran out and rented the sequel, SCREAM BLACULA SCREAM. The details of my sweaty two and a half mile journey to Hollywood Video shall be chronicled in a later writing. (Okay, I made that up, I didn't really run. But I did go back and rent the sequel before even returning the original.) I knew that this followup wasn't supposed to be as good as its predecessor, but I was clamoring for some more of that Mamuwalde magic, and I figured having Pam Grier in it was a good sign. To my delight, the sequel is every bit as good a film as the original. I have a feeling that critics at the time enjoyed BLACULA, but had grown tired of that style of filmmaking by the time the sequel was released. Therefore, they remembered their enjoyment of the original and assumed the sequel just wasn't as good. Seeing them for the first time side by side, though, they're of one piece. The sequel shares the strong atmosphere and the unexpected humor of the original. It throws in a new setting, among an American voodoo cult, and an added dimension of tragedy to Mamuwalde. The afrocentric themes are better developed this time around. Mamuwalde admires African-Americans who are interested in their heritage, and shares his knowledge with them. He dislikes ignorant young people who waste away their days partying, so he often chooses these people to transform into his vampire minions. In one memorable scene, Mamuwalde is enraged by two pimps who try to mug him. Before beating them to death, he lectures them from the point of view of an African prince who fought against slavery. He angrily accuses them of enslaving their sisters and imitating their slavemasters. William Marshall completely sells these lines, bringing to them an overwhelming righteousness. You want to apologize to him, even if you're not a pimp. Like the first film, SCREAM BLACULA SCREAM has a charismatic black cop who leads the investigation of Mamuwalde's killing spree. And again, there is a skeptical white cop who almost impedes the investigation. The two have a great chemistry here, teasing each other, making you understand their friendship even though the white guy's not the one you're rooting for. Things get really good when Mamuwalde enlists the voodoo priestess played by Pam Grier to reverse Dracula's curse. He is fiercely protective of Grier, because he knows she's the only one with the ability to stop the madness and return him to his old self. When the monumental voodoo ritual is interrupted before completion, Mamuwalde goes over the edge. He wastes his last chance for redemption on an insane rampage where he, for the first time in the series, identifies himself as "Blacula."
Marshall seems to have contributed a lot more to the BLACULA films than his great performances. In the book _What It Is… What It Was_ (a beautiful collection of poster art from black films of the '70s) he reveals that in the original script, Mamuwalde was named "Andrew Brown", the same name as Andy in Amos 'n Andy. Marshall says that he wanted to remove the story "from the stereotype of ignorant, conniving stupidity that evolved in the United States to justify slavery." Instead, he suggested the "African hero who had never been subjected to slavery" who ultimately became the subject of the film. It is largely this challenging of stereotypes and respect for African heritage that makes the series so unique. Other blaxploitation films have presented strong, African-American heroes and heroines, but few have incorporated cultural issues so successfully into pulpy b-movie theatrics. These are movies that make you regret that you can't go out and rent more like them.
Bryan Frankenseuss Theiss http://www.bucketheadland.com/visitorcenter/
"Shit, I'm the *reverse* of jiggy." --Chuck D
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