El Vampiro Mexico 1957

This weekend Saturday October 31st for the day of the dead

Where:
Music Hall 734 Oak St.
Columbus, Ohio 43205

3pm

Mexico's 1957's "El Vampiro" is considered the finest example of that country's horror output during their 50's-60's period, and this assessment is probably an accurate one. Primitive and austere, this film was made in a seemingly other age, bearing none of the trademarks of even the low budget offerings of America and other countries during that time (for instance, the inexpensively-filmed Roger Corman canon of the 50's). So if the viewer is looking for color, glitz and flash in the plotting or special effects, look elsewhere. But this is a vampire film, and as such the movie depends much more on mood and lighting to achieve its oftentimes potent chill. Much of director Fernando Mendez's vision takes place on the grounds of the fog-enshrouded decrepit mansion where heiress Marta (Ariadna Welter) has returned home to find haunted by the titular fiend, and an eerie, more dismal locale has rarely been realized by similar movies from ANY country. Producer Abel Salazar's Doctor Enrique who accompanies her to the mansion is a weak hero, prone to "comic relief" quips that ruin the mood of some of the character-expository scenes. But the lead vampires German Robles (Count Lavud) and Carmen Montejo (Aunt Eloisa) who menace Marta, Enrique and the rest of the household are both physically and emotively convincing, imbuing their sequences both together and when interacting with the endangered humans with pervading menace. Robles in particular is a marvel, giving (by far) his finest career horror performance, with evil intent dripping from his line readings, coupled with an almost-balletic malefic grace from his body movements, whether carrying the unconscious Marta through the corridors to his lair near the climax, or crouching slightly whenever transforming into a vampire bat. Robles also sports (close to) the longest fangs in vampire cinema history, adding to the frisson achieved by both his facial features and the expert lighting in the important scene of the Count victimizing Marta as she sleeps, arguably the greatest vampirizing sequence ever filmed.