Roman Polanski
The Fearless Vampire Killers

What sensible person would willingly accept an invitation to attend a midnight ball in a gloomy castle frequented by the deceased in the guise of vampires? Honestly, no one in reality, but on the level of cinematic fiction, something of the sort happens in the plot at the center of the film "The Fearless Vampire Killers," a work by Roman Polanski made in 1966 and released the following year. At that stage, Polanski was an emerging author after significant trials like "Knife in the Water," "Repulsion," "Cul de Sac," and he fortunately aroused the interest of emissaries from the American production company MGM, who expressed their willingness to finance the new film by the Polish director (which would later involve some production vicissitudes, as I will explain...).

Polanski then proceeds to create a film that results in a sort of ironic homage to the film genre centered around vampires (a specialty of the British film production company Hammer). The protagonists are Professor Abronsius, author of essays on vampirism (a character depicted as a cross between Albert Einstein and Don Quixote, well rendered by actor Jack Mac Gowran), and his faithful collaborator Alfred (a naive Roman Polanski), who, wandering through the snowy lands of an imaginary Transylvania, stop in a remote village whose unfortunate characteristic is to be located near a castle inhabited by fearsome vampires. On this matter, the villagers are reticent, yet they cover the ceilings of the village inn with large bunches of garlic, which according to popular belief would be able to keep the fearsome vampires at bay. But when the innkeeper's daughter is kidnapped by Count Von Krolok, a distinguished vampire of the castle, it becomes necessary to try to save her, and the two protagonists set out in search, penetrating the castle. Here, the action will unfold with various twists, and Abronsius and Alfred will have a difficult time with the vampire count and his court, but after the famous midnight ball I mentioned at the beginning of the review, the two will manage to escape along with the beautiful inn owner. However, the finale will hold yet another twist (which I won't reveal if you haven't seen the film, just to not spoil the pleasure of discovery).

As already mentioned, MGM production worked to edit the film according to the expectations of the American public, cutting 20 minutes of filmed material, imposing that the kidnapped inn owner be played by the young actress Sharon Tate (later Polanski's wife, unfortunately killed in 1969 by the followers of the Manson cult), and trying to sweeten the tone of the film. But overall, it seems to me that, beneath the film's fairy-tale aspect, the sulfurous spirit of the Polish author remains intact, who, imbued with a robust underlying pessimism, continues to see the resilient fiber of Evil destined to prevail by indirect means over Good.

In addition to that, there are some peculiarities present in this work. First of all, the character of Professor Abronsius effectively represents the constant attempt of the scientific habitus to interpret and categorize everything that appears irrational (in this case vampirism, which had so much intrigued the so-called European vampirologists between the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries) without, however, reaching an exhaustive explanation of what remains metaphysical.

To this must be added Polanski's great ability to represent enclosed environments, and here there is not only visual mastery. Every time I watch "The Fearless Vampire Killers," I also perceive the olfactory element of those environments. In the first part inside the inn, it seems to feel not only the warmth of a closed dwelling compared to the snowy exterior, but consequently also the smell of rancid vegetable soups (cabbages, broccoli, and so on), as well as the body odor of the present villagers, especially the young maids who represent the only pleasant note (and particularly appetizing for the vampire canines inclined to a decidedly unhealthy eros) in such a context. Conversely, when the action moves to the vampires' castle, you perceive not only the stench of centuries-old dust, mothballs, and the like, but there is also a strong smell of putrid meat from those deceased who appear in a vampiric and mortal guise. Therefore, it is inevitable for the viewer to root for Abronsius and Alfred to successfully complete the mission and escape unharmed from that horrid theater.

Finally, last but not least, the film is certainly a divertissement by the director who, however, under the guise of a fairy tale, outlines a metaphor about the power that binds the powerful and the subordinates in a dialectical relationship (as already illustrated in the Hegelian dialectic between master and servant). Thus, on one side, we will have the feudal rentiers versus the serfs, the capitalist bourgeoisie versus the proletarians, as well as the bureaucrats of the all-pervasive State towards other citizens (see real socialism countries). Everything is held under the sign of power that undoubtedly vampirizes the subordinates, but ultimately ends up vampirizing the powerful themselves, who sooner or later fall from their pedestal and are replaced by new powerful ones.

As if to say: someone has talked about the dialectic of history and has elaborated learned theories about it. But perhaps more simply, as Polanski suggests in this film, one might think that the vampires (or whoever they are) have been among us for a long time...