Blacula (1972)/Scream Blacula Scream (1973) Blu-ray review

“Say, man, that is one strange dude… who is he?”

He’s Blacula.

In the early ‘70s, black cinema exploded onto screens across the nation when hits such as Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song (1971) and Shaft (1971) proved there was an audience hungry for urban drama focused on African Americans, offering a glimpse into their world. By the following year of 1972, the number of “blaxploitation” films increased more than fourfold, spawning a new genre and giving a voice to black filmmakers and actors who now had a platform with which to tell their stories. The movement may have only lasted a few years (by 1977 titles were trickling out), but blaxploitation left an indelible mark on cinema and bestowed upon audiences a handful of classic pictures.

One such enduring film is Blacula (1972), the first blaxploitation horror picture. Heavy cues are taken from past Dracula adaptations, but this entry is firmly rooted in African American culture due to the prevalence of jive-talkin’, tweed jackets and afros aplenty. Classically trained actor William H. Marshall stars as the title character, whose actual name is Mamuwalde, an African prince who, in 1780, travels to Transylvania on a diplomatic mission to put an end to the slave trade. There, he meets with Dracula (Charles Macaulay), who not only refuses to help Mamuwalde in his quest but also attacks him and his wife, Luva (Vonetta McGee). Mamuwalde fights back fiercely, but a bite from Dracula seals his fate and, in an ironic twist, sees him turned into a slave who now seeks blood to quench his undying thirst. He’s also rechristened “Blacula” by Dracula, a name which is oddly enough never again uttered during the film. Mamuwalde is sealed up in a coffin, inside a crypt, along his wife, Luva, who eventually dies by her man’s side.

Cut to nearly two centuries later and the contents of Dracula’s castle have been put up for auction, purchased by a couple of interior decorators who have plans for these antiques back home in Los Angeles. Upon arrival, however, Mamuwalde is awakened and quickly dispatches the couple. At the funeral service for one of the men, Mamuwalde inconspicuously watches the mourners, with Tina (Vonetta Williams) catching his eye as the apparent reincarnation of his beloved Luva. When he’s not busy feeding on the citizens of L.A., Mamuwalde is at his charming best, seductively romancing Tina, who is falling under his hypnotic spell. One of Tina’s acquaintances, Dr. Gordon Thomas (Thalmus Rasulala), however, has found bite marks consistent with vampire lore on the neck of a victim, and is convinced there may be one of the undead on the city streets. When Gordon digs up a recently deceased victim and is met by a pair of snarling fangs, his suspicions are confirmed. Working with the police, Gordon takes down a warehouse filled with blood suckers, while Mamuwalde and Tina attempt to flee together and preserve their love.

First and foremost, the onus of the film’s success rests squarely on the broad shoulders of William H. Marshall. The actor’s imposing physique belies his Shakespearean line delivery and effortless charm, bolstered by a smooth baritone voice that should have been cutting slow jam records, a la Barry White. Of interesting note is that Marshall wanted Mamuwalde to be more than just “Black Dracula”, going so far as to see his character’s name was changed from the generic “Andrew Brown” and given a backstory rich in African culture and focused on his attempt to stop slavery. His noble intentions give the film its ironic twist of fate. As with most vampires, Mamuwalde is typical in that he can be oozing seduction one minute, then lapping at an oozing neck like a monster the next. There’s a clear dichotomy to the character, because once he’s in full-on vamp mode his actions are feral and instinctual; the amiable man is left entirely. There’s only one oddity to his performance… The man has been sealed up in a casket since 1780, and when he awakens in present day Los Angeles there isn’t a single scene of his amazement at how the world has changed. A whole helluva lot happened in two centuries, so you’d think the man would show some sense of wonder.

Also atypical for a horror picture is the film’s score, courtesy of composer Gene Page, an arranger for such hit acts as The Four Tops, The Temptations and Barry White. There isn’t a lick of traditional horror movie motifs to be heard. Instead, the score is filled almost exclusively with music endemic to blaxploitation and black culture, giving Blacula a more soulful, funky edge than any other genre picture up to that point. The main theme could have come right out of Shaft, or been on a Brothers Johnson album.

From the Saul Bass-esque title credits right up through the surprisingly gallant, bittersweet ending Blacula has long cemented its status as one of the seminal cult classics of all-time. Even the title has been elevated to use as a colloquialism; any black guy who dresses as a vampire is automatically Blacula. This reminds me of The Simpsons (1989-present) episode where Dr. Hibbert, dressed as a vampire, is called Blacula and exclaims, “Oh, because I’m black and I’m Dracula, that makes me Blacula?” It’s in the cultural lexicon to stay. Complaints the film is amateurish, poorly acted, weak or unsatisfying were made by people who clearly don’t want to have fun with a movie.

Where there’s a hit, there’s usually a sequel, and Blacula got its follow-up just one year later in the form of Scream Blacula Scream (1973). Marshall returns as Mamuwalde, with Pam Grier (who was in the midst of a major hot streak) joining the cast as a potential love interest for the undead prince. Grier plays Lisa, the chosen successor of a late high voodoo priestess who opts for her over Willis (Richard Lawson), the priestess’ immature son. Upset at his dead mother’s decision, Willis acquires the bones of Mamuwalde in hopes that a voodoo ritual will bring the vampire back to life, whereupon he’ll have Mamuwalde do his bidding. The ritual works – but not as Willis intended. Mamuwalde isn’t controllable, and in another ironic series twist Willis winds up the unwitting servant to his conjured Prince of Darkness.

As Willis increases the vamp stable in his home through nightly feedings, Mamuwalde is a man about town, winding up at a party thrown by former detective Justin Carter (Richard Lawson). Justin is showing off his collection of rare African artifacts which, unbeknownst to him, were excavated from the region where Mamuwalde was once prince. Also at this party is Lisa, Justin’s girlfriend and the burgeoning voodoo priestess. She immediately takes a liking to Mamuwalde, who reciprocates because Lisa is incredibly foxy, and because her voodoo powers may be his ticket to lifting the curse which Dracula placed upon him centuries ago. Justin, meanwhile, works with some of his local police buddies to find who’s responsible for a string of murders in the area – murders committed by Mamuwalde, Willis and their growing brood. Things naturally come to a head in the third act, where Justin & co. storm Willis’ home and fight the vampiric residents, while Mamuwalde and Lisa attempt to lift his eternal burden.

Though not as good as the first film, Scream Blacula Scream is a surprisingly worthwhile follow-up that employs another trait common to a handful of blaxploitation films: voodoo. This approach helps differentiate the film enough that it doesn’t feel like a total rehash of events. Stylistically, many similarities are apparent including the opening titles, musical score (by a different composer) and overall aesthetics. Marshall once again plays Mamuwalde with a strong sense of dignity and class, and he flips it completely around when the fangs are bared. This time around Mamuwalde gets to show off a bit of his muscle. In one of the film’s best scenes, a couple of muggers try to get rough with the dark prince. Both quickly learn this was a mistake. And finally, for the first time in the series Mamuwalde actually refers to himself as Blacula, although his declaration doesn’t come until the film is nearly over. It’s funny that he’s christened Blacula at the opening of the first film, yet the name is never heard again until there are around seven minutes left in the sequel.

Blacula and Scream Blacula Scream are both highly entertaining slices of vintage cinema, featuring much of what makes blaxploitation films so damn enjoyable. William H. Marshall adds more gravitas than anyone who hasn’t seen these films would expect, delivering a powerful nuanced performance that, frankly, could have carried into another film or two. All hail Scream Factory for putting together a solid double feature for fans of these funky bloodsuckers.

The 1.85:1 1080p images for both Blacula and Scream Blacula Scream are very similar, with each getting a major upgrade over previous DVD editions thanks to some spiffy HD transfers made at MGM. Each print is immaculate, with extremely few hints of dirt or debris. Detail is highly apparent in every scene, with little background elements enjoying increased clarity. Colors look sharp and well-saturated, and black levels remains mostly stable throughout – a few shot here and there look hazy, nothing terrible. Grain is left in place, giving both films the proper aged ‘70s aesthetic.

Each film features an English DTS-HD MA 2.0 mono track, both of which are clear, clean and free from any hisses or pops. The sound design on these films is hardly dynamic, with a minimum level of separation among different elements. Dialogue sounds a bit low during a couple scenes where location sound was clearly used, though the majority of the tracks present it balanced among effects and music. The musical numbers and source tracks used on the soundtrack sound full and have presence. Subtitles are included in English.

Blacula features a commentary with author/film historian/filmmaker David F. Walker. This guy is prepared, excited and immediately begins rattling off once the picture gets underway, joking that most listeners probably have no clue who he is but he’ll explain why he’s here in a bit. He does, and he also delivers a lot of background information on the film’s production and actors.

Scream Blacula Scream star Richard Lawson provides an interview, running for just over 13 minutes. The actor describes how he didn’t even get the part he eventually wound up playing. He’s also apparently very skilled at reading a light meter based solely on how hot it feels on his skin.

Both films also feature a photo gallery and trailer among their respective bonus features.

Love At First Bite (1979)/Once Bitten (1985) Blu-ray review

Horror and comedy pair so perfectly it’s almost hard to believe it took filmmakers until the 1980s to really start cranking out some pictures. All those years of pent-up humor exploded at that point, resulting in one movie after the next ditching attempts at absolute terror for a heavy injection of humor. It makes sense why the concept gained traction; after years of seeing horror icons taken so seriously many were plum for roasting. Dracula was one such easy target, what with his Eurotrash romanticism, Misfits devilock-esque ‘do and the roster of staples endemic to vampirism (crosses, garlic, etc.). He’d been indirectly blasted once before by Roman Polanksi in The Fearless Vampire Killers (1967), but 1979 would bring about his first real skewering (staking?).

Without delving too deeply into the specifics, know that 1979 was an atypical year for vampires. No less than seven (!) films on the subject saw release that year, three of which are labeled as “Disco Dracula” titles. Just think about that – not only is there a Disco Dracula subgenre, but it grew in triplicate during one year. Kind of amazing, especially when you consider disco was heavily declining by that time. Of those three films released in ’79, the only one that still has much of a cult following is Love at First Bite, starring walking skin cancer anomaly George Hamilton as Count Dracula. Just as Mel Brooks had done five years earlier with Young Frankenstein (1974), which spoofed the original Frankenstein (1931), Love at First Bite takes a direct swipe at Bela Lugosi’s Dracula (1931). It isn’t as precise as Brooks’ film, though, using only characters and concepts while ditching the Transylvanian landscape for New York City’s cluttered streets.

After being booted out of his castle to make way for an Olympic gymnastics training facility, Dracula (George Hamilton) and his faithful insectivore servant, Renfield (Arte Johnson), head off to start a new life in New York City. Not for no reason; Drac has a crush on a magazine cover model who lives there, Cindy Sondheim (Susan Saint James). A mix-up at the airport causes Dracula’s coffin to be temporarily switched with that of a recently deceased black man from Harlem – you know where that joke is headed. Things get sorted out and the Count hits the town in search of his bride-to-be, whom he is convinced he already loves. He & Cindy meet due to his magnetic personality and cocksure charm, but once her guard comes down it’s clear she’s a bit of a mess. She’s sloppy and neurotic and, yet, the Count doesn’t care because he sees her as the reincarnation of his long lost love, Mina Harker.

One fly in his ointment, however, is Cindy’s therapist – and part-time-lover – Rosenberg (Richard Benjamin), who also happens to be grandson to Dracula’s old nemesis Fritz van Helsing. When Rosenberg finds out who has been pursuing Cindy, he runs Dracula through the gamut of apocryphal methods that will supposedly kill the undead vamp. None finds much success. Rosenberg’s very public antics eventually get him arrested, despite his vocal protests that Dracula is a public menace. He’s only taken seriously when a rash of blood bank robberies and sporadic attacks get the attention of the police chief, who authorizes Rosenberg to get back on the trail of Dracula and Cindy.

First off, in case you weren’t aware this release has restored Alicia Bridges’ “I Love the Nightlife” during the show-stopping disco number. Considering that sequence is one of the film’s highlights – and, really, a perfect fit for this sort of film - it’s amazing anyone thought it was even remotely acceptable to remove it in the first place. Yea, I know… music clearances and all that. Still a boneheaded move.

Having never seen the film, I think what surprised me most was the love story, which I had assumed would be half baked so the focus remained on the humor. Instead, it’s a complicated relationship with some genuine ups-and-downs. Dracula is way into Cindy just based on her looks, but his superficial love is immediately tested when it’s shown that Cindy is far from the glamorous, put-together model he envisioned. She’s a lady with some major hang-ups in life. Truthfully, a whole lot of the humor in this film fell flat for me, and I got most of my enjoyment out of watching these two imperfect lovers try to develop an actual relationship.

Part of the humorlessness that pervades this film comes in the form of Richard Benjamin as Rosenberg. He’s just so… stiff, mono-emotive and not really a good actor. There’s a real lag during the second act when so much of the film is following his character around while Dracula takes a bit of a backseat in his own movie. At least Renfield provides some decent laughs; he’s a little less Dwight Fry and more Marty Feldman’s Igor. It’s a fun, albeit dated, film.

Outshining Hamilton’s bronze resplendence is pale Canadian Jim Carrey, in his first theatrical leading role with Once Bitten (1985). This one plays more like a ribald ‘80s teen comedy, full of horny virgins and plenty of un-p.c. humor. In a somewhat coincidental twist, this film sees an actual supermodel, Lauren Hutton, playing the role of a vampire known as Countess. She looks remarkable for someone who’s “400 if she’s a day”, according to her personal assistant Sebastian (Cleavon Little), but the upkeep on those to-die-for looks is a steady supply of virgin’s blood – three sips before Halloween to be precise. Only problem is, finding a virgin in a city like Los Angeles isn’t easy work. Luckily, one of Countess’ nights on the town coincides with high schooler Mark (Jim Carrey) and his buddies’ own evening of prospect searching. Mark’s girlfriend, Robin (Karen Kopins), refused to have sex with him the night before, so he quickly determines the next best option is to find a willing partner somewhere in Hollywood. Countess and Mark hit it off at a singles bar and the two head back to her place almost immediately.

They hook up, although Mark’s recollection of their steamy night is pretty foggy. Did they have sex? She claims so. But now he’s starting to feel weird and act very different. The sun seems too bright. His fashion sense is getting darker. He’s having incredibly bizarre dreams. And he eats raw meat and drinks animal blood without giving it a second thought. Robin is justifiably concerned. When Countess draws blood from Mark a second time, it leads directly to a dance-off face-off between Mark, Countess and Robin (set to an on-the-nose track entitled “Hands Off”). If Countess manages to siphon some virgin blood from Mark just one more time her beauty will endure, but Robin isn’t willing to let her guy go without a fight. It might be a faux pas now, but how can you not laugh at the stampede brought about by the cry of “Fag alert!”?

The humor in Once Bitten is typical of ‘80s teen comedies, but what puts it over the top are Jim Carrey’s physical mannerisms and wacky faces. Fans of his style will be cracking up watching him dance with a sweater, or when he hisses at a couple local kids, or during any of the vampiric nightmares he has throughout. His malleable punim and range of expressions are his bread-and-butter comedy, but he’s also just as able to handle the scenes of serious drama. Cleavon Little kills it here, too, as Countess’ snarky out-of-the-closet assistant who is lightning quick with his quips. Mark’s two eternally-horny buddies are so desperate to get laid it’ll make you cringe, especially when one of them continues to use his staple pickup line, which is the sort of thing a guy with no understanding of women would say to get laid. The scene in the locker room showers where the two of them are looking for a bite on Mark’s thigh, at the behest of Robin, had me rolling because it’s just so wrong.

Love at First Bite makes its Blu-ray debut on this double-feature disc, featuring a 1.85:1 1080p image that is undoubtedly a step up from previous releases. The print from which this transfer was sourced looks very clean, with only minor flecks here and there. The cinematography presents a decent level of depth which comes through clearly in HD. Detail is only moderate in medium or wide shots, but up close it’s very sharp and lifelike. Colors are accurate and saturation is where it should be. Black levels, too, are strong.

The situation is the same in regard to the 1.85:1 1080p image for Once Bitten. The majority of productions around this time tend to have similar aesthetics, so as long as the source materials are kept in great shape – which these were – the end result is pretty expected. No DNR was used on either film, leaving grain intact as a fine layer over the picture.

Both films feature an English DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 stereo track, and as you might’ve guessed both are more or less similar in terms of delivery, separation and overall presence. The sound design is typical of ‘80s comedies, with most of the focus on the dialogue and not much in the way of action. That’s not a complaint, just a fact. Luckily, Scream Factory has a knack for delivering solid stereo tracks, with dialogue clean, centered and well-balanced in the mix. Both films also feature source music that is presented with high fidelity, adding some weight to the track. “Once Bitten” has a little more in the way of discreet effects and separation, more dynamic, but otherwise these two are very similar. English subtitles are included for both films.

As far as extras go, there isn’t much here at all. Each film has its trailer, while Love at First Bite also gets a few radio spots.