Showing posts with label Keanu Reeves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Keanu Reeves. Show all posts

Friday, June 17, 2016

Top Fives or Tens: Martial Arts Tournament Films

Rik: It used to be that finding martial arts action in films was mostly confined to low-budget chopsocky flicks shipped from overseas that maybe you saw on late night television (if you were lucky). Once home video blew up huge, you could find them all over the place easily. Hollywood was slow to adopt such fighting into their own films though. I remember being astounded by a 1956 film called Bad Day at Black Rock when I was a kid, because it actually had someone who used martial arts to fight -- and that someone was Spencer Tracy!! And he was playing a one-armed guy who knew judo! But then, Bruce Lee broke through (somewhat) in Hollywood on The Green Hornet and eventually in his own mega-popular films after his return to Hong Kong. In the early '70s, a TV series (originally envisioned by Lee) called Kung Fu became popular on American TV, and it was off to the races. By the late '70s, Chuck Norris was really revving up strong, The Karate Kid became a phenomenon in the '80s, and suddenly, there were kung fu and ninja films everywhere. In time, Hong Kong superstars like Jackie Chan, Jet Li, and Michelle Yeoh got huge worldwide, and now, especially with the comic book superhero resurgence onscreen, it seems every movie and TV show is rife with endless martial arts-style action sequences.

So, Aaron, we might need some guidelines for this list. Should we include Hollywood action films where someone like Scarlett Johansson or Jeremy Renner pretends they know what they are doing? (I'm THE BIGGEST Avengers fan going, but still...) Should it be any film that has martial arts sequences in it? Should we include samurai films, which mainly involve sword-fighting and little in the way of hand-to-hand combat? Or should we limit it to chopsocky "kung fu" films? Or should we, in the style of our film topic this week, Bloodsport, make it Hollywood-produced martial arts films created primarily for the American market

Aaron: I think listing our favorite martial arts films would be way too broad a topic, and I'm not looking forward to the headache of trying to figure out which titles to cut out of that list. Yet I think, in honor of the multiple styles on display in Bloodsport, we should avoid limiting ourselves to only one style of martial arts (though I think we can safely save swordplay for another film and another list). The opposite problem is that for as much as I love martial arts films, and as greedily as I devoured them in my teens and early twenties, my overall knowledge of the genre remains rather limited. I am far from being an expert, and if we narrow our scope too far, I may not be able to come up with a proper list.

I am also unopposed to allowing Hollywood action films on our lists. If someone were to tell me their favorite kung fu film was The Matrix, I'd first advise them to watch more kung fu films, but also appreciate that the choice is valid, as the fighting in that film was choreographed expertly by the great Yuen Woo Ping. And in fact maybe your final proposal is the one we should tackle; favorite Hollywood-produced martial arts films. There have been a few good ones over the years, as the style tends to make periodic surges in popularity in this country. The only thing holding me back from choosing that one at this moment is that I feel like highlighting some authentic martial arts films as further viewing for anybody who might be a newcomer to the genre. So perhaps, as one last suggestion from me, we could focus our list on tournaments. We could interpret that guideline as loosely or as strictly as we'd like, if we're having trouble putting together a list.

Rik: That sounds great. Tournament films, it is. So, without further ado, we have each picked five films from the massive catalogue of martial arts films that include a tournament as one its story elements. These are not necessarily the best films in this category, and opinion may be strongly divided as to the quality of some of these films. Flat out, they are merely films that we like for various reasons that happen to contain a tournament aspect. Aaron, you may go first...



Master of the Flying Guillotine (1976)

Aaron: This is the movie I thought of when considering this topic. Master of the Flying Guillotine was like nothing I had ever seen, and it blew my mind when I first came across it. It had the hokiness I was used to in the martial arts films from the '70s that got imported to America: the sudden zooms, the rapid fire punch-block-punch fighting style, the heightened sound effects, and an English-speaking voice cast that veered wildly between overblown histrionics and deadpan monotone, but Master of the Flying Guillotine also has a ruthlessness that I was less familiar with. The effects for the titular weapon and the attendant gore weren't exactly realistic, but it was still a memorably gruesome manner in which to dispatch a foe. The film was written and directed by Jimmy Wang Yu, who also reprises his character from One Armed Boxer (1971). Its copyright infringing soundtrack features music (allegedly unlicensed at the time of its original release) from German bands Neu!, Kraftwerk, and Tangerine Dream. As for the fighting itself, I'd never seen a film that mixed as many styles as this one. Kung fu, karate, jujitsu, and Thai boxing. Most memorable of all was an Indian fighter with the ability to extend his limbs in a disorientingly wild manner, like Dhalsim in the Street Fighter games. All of this combines to create a film that should hit fans of old school chopsocky films right in the pleasure center, while also feeling fresh and unusual forty years later.



Enter the Dragon (1973)

Rik: Simply put, still my favorite martial arts film to this day. I didn't get to see it until many years later, but watched it endlessly on HBO as a teenager. Bruce Lee is worthy of his legend in this film, where he stars as a secret agent sent to infiltrate the island stronghold of a maniacal crime overlord, Mr. Han (Shih Kien), who is missing a hand but has a crazy assortment of special, sometimes deadly, attachments. Lee's passage onto the island is via invitation to a martial arts tournament Han is holding. John Saxon, Jim Kelly, and Robert Wall may be the American names in this film, but this spectacle is top loaded with a cavalcade of Hong Kong talent (most in tiny roles) who would go on to storied careers in the genre: Angela Mao, Bolo Yeung (we just discussed him at length regarding Bloodsport), Roy Chiao, Tony Liu, and four of the Seven Little Fortunes: Yuen Biao, Yuen Wah, Sammo Hung, and Jackie Chan. The film contains several of the most iconic scenes in the history of not just martial arts and action-adventure films, but film in general. If you haven't seen it and you consider yourself a martial arts fan, you must. (And if you haven't seen 1977's The Kentucky Fried Movie -- written and directed by the creators of Airplane! --which features a dead-on perfect spoof of Enter the Dragon titled A Fistful of Yen, do so with the greatest urgency!)



Man of Tai Chi (2013)

Aaron: Who would have thought, back in 1989, that Keanu Reeves would be the American filmmaker to most thoroughly understand the mechanics of Hong Kong-style kung fu films? Man of Tai Chi is probably the least narratively inventive film on my list, and yet it's such a solid piece of work that I recommend it to martial arts fans all the time. Reeves initially planned to incorporate a complex camera rig setup into the fight scenes, even going so far as to shoot a proof-of-concept video of how it would work. The results were pretty great, but due to budgetary or logistical reasons this setup was not used for much of the actual film, and handheld cameras were used instead. While it would have been great to see what Reeves had planned to do, with a camera that would have been able to glide in and out and over the action without disrupting the performers or requiring them to stop and reset, he was still able to achieve a nicely professional style. His cameras weave around the action, and he favors long takes in all of the fight scenes. This insistence on grabbing impressive shots while also not interrupting the flow of his actors results in a technically ambitious film with a pretty elementary plot. Tiger Chen, a stuntman Reeves met and befriended on the set of the Matrix sequels, lacks a certain screen presence, and has a pretty flat acting style. The plot, such as it is, is so threadbare and halfhearted that the film would be laughable if Keanu Reeves hadn't absolutely delivered on the kung fu goods.



Ip Man (2008)

Rik: I am not going to get into just how biographical this first entry in the now three-film Ip Man series is; I am no expert, and I cannot discern the fact from myth when so many sources argue about the basic facts of Ip Man's career. It is hard to trust any film that says "based on a true story" any more, since it is such an abused phrase now. One fact is clear: Ip Man (or Yip Man) was the martial arts master who taught Bruce Lee in his childhood. But this series starts out years earlier in 1937 in Foshan prefecture just as the Japanese have invaded China in advance of World War II. Truthfully, I first rented this film mainly to see the marvelous Donnie Yen in action as the title character, and this film delivers it. While this film is equal parts historical drama, espionage, and martial arts, the heart of the film -- and the real reason we are watching -- lies in a series of intense matches between the occupying Japanese general and his soldiers and Ip Man, pitting their separate styles against each other in a sort of racial grudge tournament. Ip Man 2, which takes place in the post-war '40s and has a large, brutish American fighter as the main villain, is not quite as good as this film, but still very worthwhile. I have yet to see the third installment released last year, where Ip Man starts to take Bruce Lee under his wing in the 1950s. Whether you plan to watch the trilogy or not, at least check out the first installment to see Yen in top form.



Throw Down (2004)

Aaron: This one is the closest I come to cheating on this list. There isn't really a tournament in this film, aside from some brief flashbacks and dialogue references. Instead the film focuses on Sze-To (Louis Koo), a former judo champion who, after professional humiliation, has become an embittered bar owner in Hong Kong. Tony (Aaron Kwok), a young martial artist looking to test his skill against a respected master, arrives one day. Disappointed in the man he finds, he begins to coax Sze-To back into the martial art. I like to call director Johnnie To the Chinese Howard Hawks, although I don't think he's quite at Hawks' skill level. What the two men do share, however, is a willingness to work in all genres (though Johnnie To is most well known for his gangster films, he's made musicals, romantic comedies, and family dramas as well), a directorial style that favors efficiency and technique over flashiness, and a fondness for the group dynamics of professional men. Throw Down is explicitly Johnnie To's ode to Akira Kurosawa (Sanshiro Sugata gets name-checked a couple times), which makes this a bit more warm and humanistic than the normal To film. The dynamic between the two men, master and prodigy, may be slightly antagonistic, but there is an affection and respect there. The fighters also avoid trying to maim or injure their opponents; they simply want to fight for the joy of it, to see whose skill is better. Of the films on my list, this has the least in-your-face action, but it's the most emotionally satisfying. 



Ong-Bak: Muay Thai Warrior (2003)

Rik: When the ads for Ong-bak (subtitled The Thai Warrior here, not Muay Thai) first came to theatres and TV well over a decade ago, it was really hard to comprehend how cool the film looked. We had seen a huge rise in the quality of martial arts films over the past couple of decades, but this one seemed like it was trying to not just be a martial arts film -- with the requisite training montages, and tournament face-offs -- but a legitimate across the board action film. Not just fighting, but crazy chase scenes through busy city streets and markets, wild stuntwork ("No wires!" they proclaimed) that looked like an attempt at a more serious take on Jackie Chan's style, and stylized, rather artful cinematography not often seen in most martial arts films. Another detail I picked up on in the trailer were the exotic Thai location shots that promised this film was going to be more expansive than a lot of these films tend to be. And who was this Tony Jaa guy? Well, for me, Ong-Bak lived up to the serious hype that preceded it. Onscreen, Jaa didn't quite have the charisma of a Chan, Bruce Lee, or Jet Li, but he was still a contender with his serious fighting chops and acrobatic skills. The film and its action sequences were indeed intense and rather beautiful at times. I have not seen the film for a while, and like Ip Man, I have seen the immediate sequel but not the third installment. I suppose it is time to knock out both films at once.

Aaron: I was still living in Alaska when Ong-Bak came out, but I had a friend who flew to California every year for the San Diego Comic-Con. And every year he would come back with a huge box full of imported martial arts and horror films, many of them bought sight unseen on the recommendation of a few trusted vendors. Most of them, it should go without saying, on slightly less than legitimate DVDs. One year he came back with a VCD of Ong-Bak, and he handed it to me breathlessly when he got back, telling me I just had to see it immediately. And he was right, I watched in utter amazement as Tony Jaa performed jaw-dropping stunts and delivered bone-crunching blows. (Muay Thai is a remarkably painful looking martial art). For months, Ong-Bak became the film I pulled out whenever friends came over, and I cherry-picked scenes to show them to convince them of the movie's greatness. When the film finally got an American theatrical release, I told everybody I thought would care that they should go see it (while secretly enjoying the fact that I was already well aware of how cool Tony Jaa was). I haven't seen the sequel to this, but I have seen a few of Jaa's other films, and have enjoyed them all, yet aside from the brief flurry of Western attention he received for Ong-Bak and The Protector, he's mostly faded from the American consciousness. This is surprising to me, because with his penchant for intricately choreographed and hectic chase sequences, and his habit of performing his own stunts without wires or nets, I assumed him to be the heir apparent to Jackie Chan.



No Retreat, No Surrender (1986)

Rik: One of the first films that I watched after getting hooked on Van Damme with Bloodsport and Kickboxer, the earlier No Retreat, No Surrender was Jean-Claude's first major role in a film, as a leering, snarling Russian villain with slicked back hair named Ivan, clearly modeled after Dolph Lundgren in Rocky IV. Van Damme is not in very much of the film, but is in most of the fight scenes that count. The bulk of the story is built around the son of a dojo owner who moves from L.A. to Seattle, and after dealing with his cowardly father and a gang of bullies, gets his training from the spirit of none other than Bruce Lee himself (well, a rather unconvincing double). Directed by Corey Yuen, another of the Seven Little Fortunes, this film is amateurish and laughable at nearly every level. (There are gangsters who want to take over every dojo in the U.S., and Seattle is their latest target. That's right...) But it is a good representation of its place in time (it even has breakdancing), has training montage after training montage after training montage, and is a fun and silly watch regardless (including the most obnoxious bully character in the history of bully characters). Especially fun are the still riveting fight sequences, which in the last fifteen minutes are fairly brutal as Van Damme goes through opponent after opponent until he, of course, meets his match.



Fist of Legend (1994)

Aaron: Until Ip Man came along, which you talk about above, Fist of Legend was my gold standard for judging the pure ass-kicking brutality of a martial arts film. This one is a remake of the Bruce Lee film Fist of Fury (known as The Chinese Connection in America, to tap into the popularity of The French Connection), and I am not going to try and decide who is the better martial artist. I can't think of a less fruitful endeavor. But I will say that Fist of Legend is by far the tougher of the two films, with some incredibly ruthless fight scenes. Jet Li in this film doesn't mess around in his fights, he doesn't toy with his opponent or waste time figuring out their style, he just goes straight in for the knockout, and Li emulates Bruce Lee's demeanor in these fights, if not his fighting style. Bruce Lee's famous "come over here" wave makes a couple of appearances. There's one move in here that is still seared into my brain, where Li dispatches an approaching opponent by hooking two fingers into his mouth and dropping him to the floor. It's so quick, so painful looking, and done so matter of factly, that I think I actually winced in pain and shouted in surprise when I first saw it. The brutality on display is a tad surprising, coming from choreographer Yuen Woo Ping, who tends to operate more with graceful wirework. His martial arts tends towards beautiful, unrealistic movements with people gliding through the air as they trade kicks and punches, and it is completely absent here. The beauty in these fights comes from how efficiently Li is able to dispatch waves of opponents.. One of the first Jet Li films I ever saw, and still one of the best.



Shaolin Soccer (2001)

Rik: Well, we never said it had to be a martial arts tournament, just a tournament. The overabundance of joy that I felt upon seeing this film when it finally came to American theatres in 2004 may have been a portent of things to come for me over the next decade. Not long after seeing it, I would move to California and become enslaved to a youth soccer organization for ten years, which I loved at first but which ultimately ended in tragedy. My tragedy. Now I hate soccer to such a degree I can no longer watch it. Well, except in Shaolin Soccer, that is. Director, co-writer, and lead actor Stephen Chow doesn't just pull out all the stops in this tale of a horrid soccer team turned into gods of the grass by the healing knowledge of Shaolin kung fu; he delivers a screwball flying kick to each one of those stops until they are both begging for mercy and rolling on the floor with laughter. Some of the jokes are a tad un-P.C. to American audiences, but who the hell cares? Chow made such a great debut to mainstream American audiences that his next film, Kung Fu Hustle, couldn't help but disappoint a little bit, even if it was an almost equally charming merging of martial arts with dance musical. Strangely for me, as much as I love these two films, I haven't kept up with Chow since or checked out his back catalogue, and so I need to rectify this straight away.



Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Visiting and Revisiting: John Badham's Dracula (1979) Pt. 2

[This is the second part of a two-part piece on John Badham's 1979 version of Dracula. To read Part One, please follow the link here.]

Part II

Aaron: John Badham's Dracula is a marvel of production design, and is gorgeously shot by Gilbert Taylor, who heightens the gothic atmosphere through crisp, grayish cinematography. This is not as lush or baroque as Coppola's version (Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992), but still conveys a sense of decaying majesty through the hectic asylum where Dr. Seward works, Carfax Abbey where Dracula resides, and the mist-covered fields and forests between both locations. Carfax Abbey, in particular, is one of those structures that only seem to exist in movies, with the large head-shaped entryways and looming architectural flourishes.

I've always said that everything about Coppola's version is near perfect, aside from the casting. Beyond Keanu Reeves' ridiculous attempt at a British accent, everyone in the film seems to be operating on different frequencies, and none of the casting gels. Here, however, Frank Langella is the centerpiece to a cast that seems more than up to the task. His performance as Dracula is less bombastic than many other portrayals, and certainly reads as less obviously dangerous than many other screen vampires, and he brings a sense of composed regality to the character of Dracula, to the extent that it is completely understandable that men would respect him and women would be easily wooed by his attentions.


You mentioned in the first part of this crossover post that the men aren’t buying Dracula’s brooding presence, but I think that’s mostly confined to Jonathan Harker’s jealousy of the Count’s clear sexual prowess. Dr. Seward seems rather taken in by Dracula’s presence, and seems excited to be around someone so exotic. Once Van Helsing shows up, however, things begin to change in that regard.


Rik: You may be right on the Harker thing, though I was taking his reaction as representative of men on a larger scale should they encounter a similar situation as the one Harker does with the Count. We are working from a rather small sample from which to gather evidence.

Apart from Ryder and Reeves in the Coppola version, the one actor I continue to struggle with is Anthony Hopkins. I now feel he is miscast, though I didn’t think so at the time. Tom Waits is far too broad in his acting as Renfield, but it is consistent with Waits’ persona in general, and he does look great in the film.


Aaron: I’ll agree with the Hopkins statement. I enjoyed him quite a bit when I first saw that film, but his performance hasn’t aged well. He’s hammy in a way that the rest of the film tends to veer away from. I'm curious what you think of Renfield in this version. He seems almost under the Count's spell in the very first scene, but he doesn't end up doing much for him throughout the film.

Rik: I think he is indeed under the Count’s spell from the start. But, while Tony Haygarth portrays him decently enough, I think this may be the most unnecessary occurrence of Renfield in a Dracula film in history. He is merely there to spit out half intelligible inanities and eat bugs. Maybe he is just meant as wallpaper, to help continue the general atmosphere of decay and lost humanity.

You told me you have a problem with a particular bat in a particular scene? Want to explain?


Aaron: First, let me say that I agree with your take on Renfield as well. Were I not familiar with the underlying story, I would wonder what his function was, as there doesn’t seem to be any real reason Dracula would want him around. As for the bat in question, it comes during what I believe to be the biggest signifier of when this film was made: a sex scene within a swirling red vortex of mist. It's an effect that could easily read as cheesy, but through the use of the score, and the performances of the characters, has a sense of epic grace to it. That is, until the unnecessary bat imagery pops up. Superimposed over the image of Dracula and Lucy in the throes of sexual ecstasy is the silhouette of a flying bat. You pointed out, which I was unaware of, that this segment was directed by James Bond opening-credits maestro Maurice Binder, which makes perfect sense looking back on it, but doesn’t quite redeem the bat in my eyes. I think it turns what was already symbolic and lushly romantic into something a bit too crass and on-the-nose.

My one real complaint with the film, aside from that silly thing with the bat, is the very end of the film. A triumphant happy ending is just fine, and in fact the final showdown is pretty dynamically staged and quite exciting. It's a bit of a letdown, then, when the Count is inexplicably able to get up and fly away, in what may be the worst special effect in the movie. I'm not sure why it was added in, since it literally comes at the last minute and does little in the way of add any dramatic dimension to the proceedings.


Rik: I will agree that the bat in the montage is unnecessary, but the bat part that bothers me most is when Lucy goes to visit Dracula at Carfax, and when the doors open, behind Dracula at the back of the room is a giant, extremely detailed bat with wings outspread. He just moved into the place and has little time to find a fabulous decorator. Where did the bat come from, eh? The only thing that I can figure is that this proves Renfield purpose in the movie. I need to check the credits to see if he is responsible for the set decoration.

Badham claims he intentionally left the ending ambiguous, where it is not supposed to be clear to the viewer if that is just a wind carrying the cape off or if the Count lives on somehow. He also says that they were trying to hint that Lucy may be pregnant, and that they were not trying to suggest a sequel. I have my take on it, based on the evidence at hand. What do you think?


Aaron: I feel like that isn't very well implied by what we see on screen. The cape is clearly moving steadily and not quite with the wind, and the process by which they got it to move makes it look like a large, black paper airplane. Lucy’s smile to me seemed to imply that she knew Dracula had escaped, and was cheered by the fact.

Rik: A helicopter is pulling the cape, and yes, it looks too smooth for it to be the wind. I think he has escaped somehow. Lucy is definitely still under his spell, and I just thought the smile was in remembrance of their passion. But, is she pregnant? Can an undead vampire’s boys still swim? Doubt it, but it has happened in other films and TV shows. Badham offers it as a suggestion in his commentary, and he also says they did not mean to imply there could be a sequel, but I think he is full of beans.

Aaron: So, I think we’ve pretty much covered the film itself. Are there any other aspects you’d like to cover? I’d just like to point out the John Williams score, which is a much more tender, sweeping, and romantic mode than I’m used to hearing from him. It also sounded oddly familiar to me, and I think Wojciech Kilar might have reworked or quoted from his soundtrack quite a bit for the 1992 Francis Ford Coppola version.

Beyond that, maybe we can cover a bit of the Dracula mythology, because I found myself thinking of a few aspects I’d never considered before, based on how they’re presented in the film. What do you think of Dracula’s apparent ability to turn everyone he kills into a vampire? In order to turn Lucy, he needs to give her his blood, and yet everyone else he kills becomes a vampire as well. Assuming he didn’t give his blood to Mina, what do you make of her later resurrection? I’m assuming her appearance, markedly different from Dracula (more monstrous and decayed), indicates this is what happens when he feeds without sharing blood. If so, this shows a remarkable lack of care for where he leaves his victims, and seems a little short-sighted if he plans to make London his home.


Rik: I don’t think he really cares, or at least, the Dracula in this film version doesn’t really care. If I recall correctly, Dracula’s purposes for going to England are hinted at in the novel as that he wants to expand, over time, his race of beings, and that London is unprepared for dealing with someone of his power, unlike the people of his homeland. I think it is just pure bad luck for him that the place he chooses to start his eventual conquest has a connection to Van Helsing, who will figure out how to combat him.

Aaron: That brings up a good point, actually. Do you believe the Dracula story is about the triumph of the new world over the old, or an argument that we need to retain the knowledge of the old world? The fact that Dracula has lived for centuries in Romania only to be killed almost immediately after arriving in London speaks to the idea that the new world is able to vanquish the nightmares and demons of the old. And yet the new world only triumphs because of the superstitions and beliefs of the less technologically advanced older world.

Rik: I don’t have much to add to that summation of the story. It seems a fairly obvious case for such a metaphor to be derived from the story. The second part, regarding the irony that it is the old world knowledge that delivers ultimate defeat to Dracula rather than any modern technology, that is the most interesting to me.


Aaron: Also, the boat passage from Romania to London has always bothered me for some reason. It seems uncharacteristically risky for the Count. He’s clearly not averse to using human assistants, and yet he foregoes that security and sequesters himself for a long sea voyage, putting himself completely into the hands of possibly untrustworthy strangers. There are so many things that could have gone wrong on that trip, even without his habit on feeding on the crew members in a way that draws suspicion to his mysterious crates of Transylvanian soil. I suppose it speaks to the animalistic nature of the Count, who must feed even if it puts his life in danger.

Rik: Obviously, a vampire must feed. It’s always important to pack an extra lunch or two on a long trip, and the Demeter makes for a handy, seagoing lunch box.

Joking aside, I agree with your assertion of his animalistic nature being in charge. It seems his bloodlust gets the better of him on this trip, throwing aside his normal caution of humanity at large. But it shows the difference between the people of his old country – who are accustomed to the superstitions of vampires and how to keep them at bay – and those from other lands, as most of the sailors may be. In the normal course of things, a couple of sailors die on the trip, and your mind, as a fellow sailor, is going to look first for rational reasons this may have occurred. The reasonable must be approached as a possibility first; otherwise, you are a loony. It might take you a while to come around to “Hey, someone died on this ship… that means there must be a vampire on board.” You and I have each seen a zillion monster movies, so we would automatically think, were we in that situation, that a vampire is a likely suspect. But we are not the men on the Demeter, nor are we in their time. And vampirism, we must assume, is something none of these sailors have dealt with… ever. As the death count grows, and irrationality takes hold, certainly they might believe that something evil is among them, but at that point, it is too late. Their paranoia will get the best of them and they will not be operating with all of their faculties at top gear, which will make it all the easier for the Count to hold sway. I think mainly that Dracula is hedging his bets with the sea trip, knowing that he must take this opportunity to survive, as his homeland has become too dangerous for him.


Aaron: Well, I believe that brings us to the end. It has been a blast, good sir, writing up this piece with you, and I look forward to the future editions of Visiting and Revisiting. Thank you to all who have read through both of our sites, and we hope you'll come back to join us again for the next film in this series, John Carpenter's Ghosts of Mars (2001). See you soon!