horror | Lorelei By Starlight

If there’s ever a thesis to what I do, I suspect that’s it: everything matters. Especially the stuff you don’t want to.
– Stephen Graham Jones

I have been wanting to post on Stephen Graham Jones for a while now, but have been putting it off because when it’s something that means a lot to you, well you want to make sure you get it just right. I’m still not sure that I will get it “just right”, but I did just recently re-read his short story collection, The Ones That Got Away, and so it’s fresh in my mind. And, these stories were just as good reading them the second time around as they were the first. Why? I think it’s because he totally gets it. He seems to understand where fear lives in us. Sometimes it’s back in our childhood, connected to our first group of best friends, or the things that we did back then without fully comprehending the potential ramifications. Sometimes it’s in our adult relationships, based in our weaknesses and failings. Sometimes it’s just the unknown, the monster that is out there that we never even heard about until we’re having to deal with it.

In the story “The Ones Who Got Away”, he writes:

We should have cruised the bowling alley on the way up the hill that night, though. One last time. We should have coasted past the glass doors in slow-motion, our teeth set, our hands out the open window, palms to the outsides of the van doors as if holding them shut. The girls we never married would still be talking about us. We’d be the standard they measure their husbands against now. The ones who got away.

Several of these stories echo this same feeling of the invincibility of youth, the bittersweet memory we have of how that felt before it was snatched away from us. In Jones’s stories, though, this invincibility is not taken away simply by the normal trials of adulthood, but by events, sometimes supernatural, but just as often horrific and haunting tragedies. It’s all in how a person deals with these in the aftermath (well, if they have an aftermath). In some of these stories, it haunts a person until you can’t be sure if the creepy things they are seeing in the corners of those old photographs are real, or if they are just torturing themselves for their own inadequacies, for their inability to let go and just forget. Either way, though, the fear – that’s real.

I think the story that sticks with me hardest in this collection is “Raphael”. The kids in this story are a familiar motley crew of rejects, and they find solace in each other. But, one afternoon in the woods, playing at scaring each other with stories – something so innocent that we’ve all done it a hundred times – ends up changing all of them forever. Melanie will stick with me forever, as will Gabe and his sweet, pure love for her. And, as will the image that Jones leaves us with, that one moment suspended in time that changes everything. That one moment that you can’t ever take back.

A lot of Jones’s stories have to do with self-sacrifice or the memory of things you can’t take back. In “Father, Son, Holy Rabbit”, the father makes a tough decision in order to save his son. In “The Ones Who Got Away” and “Crawlspace”, we see people who have made decisions that changed everything, and not for the better. But, some of his stories have individuals dealing more solely with the unknown. In some, like “The Sons of Billy Clay”, their very humanity is threatened. In others, like “Wolf Island” and “Lonegan’s Luck”, they have a different, shall we say more complex, relationship with the unknown. The Ones That Got Away will stick with you. It will haunt you because its familiarity shows you just how close you can be to the terrifying without even knowing it.

For more on Stephen Graham Jones, check out his website and blog, Demon Theory.

The first time I came across one of the Subspecies franchise movies was while channel surfing one evening in a hotel. I was on vacation and looking for something to keep me occupied in those just before sleep hours when I accidentally ran across Bloodstone: Subspecies II. It was the most horrible wonderful thing I had seen in years! Since then I have watched all of the movies at one time or another (some more often than others), and this year I ran across a used copy of the Subspecies box collection while Christmas shopping. I resisted the impulse to buy then, but when I went back to the store after the holidays, it was still there, so Merry Christmas to me! The Subspecies the Epic Collection includes: Subspecies, Bloodstone: Subspecies II, Bloodlust: Subspecies III, Bloodstorm: Subspecies IV, and Vampire Journals (which is actually an offshoot of the series).

The basic gist of the storyline is a feud between vampire brothers over the legendary bloodstone. This stone drips the blood of the saints and allows a vampire to exist without the need for human blood, and it apparently has extra vitamins and stuff. Stephan, the

more human looking vampire brother, has stuck around the family castle after his more monstrous brother, Radu, was banished. Radu turns back up, though, and kills their father (played by Angus Scrimm) in order to get the bloodstone and keep it for himself. Enter a few clueless archaeologists who are just hanging out in Budapest wanting to research old abandoned creepy ruins. There are three girls in the group, and Stephan tries to save them while Radu would prefer to snack on them. Hilarity, ahem, horror ensues.

Most of the greatness of these movies surrounds Radu. While many horror movies over the years have worked to humanize vampires, the Subspecies franchise has gone the opposite direction. Radu is a monster vampire without any redeeming qualities. He is horrific with a pale, deformed face showing signs of previous stabbings and violence. He has lank and strawlike hair, and is often – like, really often – slobbering blood. His hoarse, high voice is designed to cause anxiety and contribute to the overall disgust of his appearance. I am hard pressed to think of another vampire portrayed in the movies that is at this level of decrepitude. He is, however, a survivor! He has mad skills where speed and stealth are concerned, and he has the help of his mother’s blood (a witch) when it comes to manifesting demonic minions and casting a sentient shadow.

These movies are also interesting since the story line from the first to the fourth simply continues: where one movie ends, the next picks right back up. You could, theoretically, watch them all back-to-back like one long movie. And, while Vampire Journals is not really part of the series, it does contain a sort of backstory for a character that shows up in the third movie. (Vampire Journals is famous with me for being so forgettable. I am sure that I have watched it at least three times, but I still cannot for the life of me remember what it is about.)

There are so many fun things about the Subspecies series! While watching them again this year I managed to come up with a list. Here are a few of my favorite Subspecies things:

“Vampire” names in the credits – since these were actually filmed in Budapest, many of the people in the credits have suitable names. For example, cinematography is by Vlad Paunescu and Production Design is by Radu Corciova.
Radu’s awesomely creepy fingers – not only are they several inches longer than normal human fingers, but he can break those puppies off and the broken pieces turn into mini demon minions.
Radu’s creepy, high voice – well done Anders Hove.
The part where Radu is able to sprout lengthened blood vessels that reach out from his body to his decapitated head and pull it back onto his body. A skill that I’m guessing all vampires would enjoy possessing.
The part where after stabbing his brother in the heart – which then gushes a fountain of blood – Radu proceeds to drink from the blood, just like you would from a water fountain.
The creepy decrepit mommy of Radu – I’m guessing that she is possibly the sister of the Crypt Keeper – who works voodoo and can fly around the room.
The Radu shadows. These are great when played up against the architecture of the Budapest streets, showing a huge, looming vampiric shadow that moves on its own.