It's hard to imagine now, but by the early 1970s the vampire was, cinematically speaking, something of a dead issue. (Rimshot.) True, the UK's Hammer Studios were still plugging along with their Dracula Variations, starring Christopher Lee and a parade of bosoms in period costume, to increasingly musty effect. Attempts to modernize the concept, as in Dracula AD 1972, did not exactly catch fire.
New motifs dominated the scene. Hitchcock's Psycho kickstarted the enormously profitable psychopath industry, Romero's irony-laced Night of the Living Dead established a taste for gore with social awareness. Polanski's Rosemary's Baby made even the presence of the Devil as imminent as a neighbor ringing the bell. The crux was immediacy -- vampires wore capes and came from the Old World. They were just so 19th century. Who would be scared?
Curiously enough Richard Matheson, one of the industry's most prolific pros, had both reinvented and doomed the vampire as a credible agent of horror in 1954, by writing the novel I Am Legend. An tale of a lone human in a world taken over by vampires, it changed the field by making vampirism a scientific phenomenon instead of a supernatural one, and directly paved the way for Romero's visceral apocalypse. When the novel was filmed as The Omega Man in 1971, that hokey v-word had been taken out entirely; they weren't Nosferatu, just mutants.
So it makes poetic sense that Matheson should help rescue the genre by scripting one of its modern classics: The Night Stalker. Adapted from an unpublished story by Jeff Rice, this whipsmart TV movie recharged the batteries by keeping it real.
In a modern (1970s modern, that is) and believably seedy Las Vegas, a series of odd murders begins. The police call it the work of a serial killer. But as the anomalies pile up, our protagonist, a down-on-his-luck reporter named Carl Kolchak, forms a different opinion. "I hate to say it," he informs the chagrined authorities (and he doesn't hate to say it either; he's sitting on the scoop of the century and he's grinning like a Cheshire Cat) "But it looks like we've got a real, live vampire on our hands."
Kolchak, as played by the wonderful Darren McGavin, is a masterstroke of characterization. With his cheap suit and outsize ego he's a walking irritant, and his exchanges with the police and his weary editor Anthony Vincenzo (Simon Oakland) are rich with comic detail. (The sheriff informs Carl that he is present by "the mutual suffrage of us all." "Sufferance," corrects Kolchak.) He makes the perfect hero here by having almost nothing of the heroic about him, except a certain hard-headedness that serves for courage. He *knows* he's right, and he might just get himself killed to prove it.
Terrifically entertaining, The Night Stalker became the highest-rated TV movie of its time, spawning a sequel and a short-lived but quite fun series with a disproportionately large footprint. The X-Files, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural, Fringe-- all these shows can count themselves as Kolchak's progeny.
For better or worse (generally for worse, although see Let the Right One In) vampires now crowd the screens again, and through inflation are once again a devalued commodity. In movies like Blade or From Dusk till Dawn or 30 Days of Night they appear in hordes. But as The Night Stalker reminds us, one vampire ought to be enough for anybody.
New motifs dominated the scene. Hitchcock's Psycho kickstarted the enormously profitable psychopath industry, Romero's irony-laced Night of the Living Dead established a taste for gore with social awareness. Polanski's Rosemary's Baby made even the presence of the Devil as imminent as a neighbor ringing the bell. The crux was immediacy -- vampires wore capes and came from the Old World. They were just so 19th century. Who would be scared?
Curiously enough Richard Matheson, one of the industry's most prolific pros, had both reinvented and doomed the vampire as a credible agent of horror in 1954, by writing the novel I Am Legend. An tale of a lone human in a world taken over by vampires, it changed the field by making vampirism a scientific phenomenon instead of a supernatural one, and directly paved the way for Romero's visceral apocalypse. When the novel was filmed as The Omega Man in 1971, that hokey v-word had been taken out entirely; they weren't Nosferatu, just mutants.
So it makes poetic sense that Matheson should help rescue the genre by scripting one of its modern classics: The Night Stalker. Adapted from an unpublished story by Jeff Rice, this whipsmart TV movie recharged the batteries by keeping it real.
In a modern (1970s modern, that is) and believably seedy Las Vegas, a series of odd murders begins. The police call it the work of a serial killer. But as the anomalies pile up, our protagonist, a down-on-his-luck reporter named Carl Kolchak, forms a different opinion. "I hate to say it," he informs the chagrined authorities (and he doesn't hate to say it either; he's sitting on the scoop of the century and he's grinning like a Cheshire Cat) "But it looks like we've got a real, live vampire on our hands."
Kolchak, as played by the wonderful Darren McGavin, is a masterstroke of characterization. With his cheap suit and outsize ego he's a walking irritant, and his exchanges with the police and his weary editor Anthony Vincenzo (Simon Oakland) are rich with comic detail. (The sheriff informs Carl that he is present by "the mutual suffrage of us all." "Sufferance," corrects Kolchak.) He makes the perfect hero here by having almost nothing of the heroic about him, except a certain hard-headedness that serves for courage. He *knows* he's right, and he might just get himself killed to prove it.
Terrifically entertaining, The Night Stalker became the highest-rated TV movie of its time, spawning a sequel and a short-lived but quite fun series with a disproportionately large footprint. The X-Files, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural, Fringe-- all these shows can count themselves as Kolchak's progeny.
For better or worse (generally for worse, although see Let the Right One In) vampires now crowd the screens again, and through inflation are once again a devalued commodity. In movies like Blade or From Dusk till Dawn or 30 Days of Night they appear in hordes. But as The Night Stalker reminds us, one vampire ought to be enough for anybody.