El Vampiro — Two Bloodsucking Tales from Mexico
From Powerhouse here’s a Blu-Ray boxset bringing together two Mexican vampire films from the 1950’s- both films blend mist swirling ‘n’ coffin creaking gothic, suave male and more mysterious female vamps, and a fair bit of action. The set features new 4k scans of both films, a selection of both new/ old extras, and an eighty-page booklet.
Each film gets its own disc, and first up we have 1957’s The Vampire ( aka El Vampiro). This was directed by Zamora, Michoacan, Mexico-born Fernando Méndez. Between the early 1940’s and early 1960’s he had thirty-nine feature credits to his name. These take in the likes of comedy-drama regarding a Tom Boy Fierecilla(1951), cabaret singer-focused crime-drama La Mujer Desnuda (1953), sci-fi/ horror The Body Snatcher(1957), and folk horror/ western cross over The Living Coffin (1959).
The post-credits/ credits kick straight into the vamp stuff- as we see a suave and cloaked male bloodsucker staring up at the bedroom window where a woman is standing in her night dress. We get a quick jump-cut, as he shifts into a flapping bat, then back again in the women's room before sinking his teeth in.
As we get into the film we get to meet our two leads- Marta Gonzalez (Ariadne Welter) a young woman who is returning to her family home, after one of her aunties has fallen ill. And trenched-coated & fedora hat-wearing Enrique Saldívar (Abel Salazar) who claims he is a travel agent. The pair are sat at a small Mexican town railway station- been told by the station worker that they have to sleep there for the night, as no one in the town comes out this near nighttime. We then switch to villages trailing through a misty graveyard to bury women with a crucifix in an underground crypt
Fairly soon a cloaked & moustached man appears on a horse-drawn carriage to pick up a large grate of earth from the train station. He agrees to give the pair a lift, but stops short on a mist-bound country road, saying he can take them no further- before riding off. The pair start walking & following just behind them, is a rather mysterious black-dressed woman. When getting to her family home- it’s rundown and thick with cobwebs- we find out all but a few of the family staff are left at the house.
As the film unfolds we get what you’d expect/ want from a Gothic vamp film. We have nighttime bedroom visits from our vampires, paranoia about the vamps as others say it’s superstitious rubbish, coffins ready for the bloodsuckers to slumber in the day, mist-draped graveyards. As well as secret passageways, a few fights and running around action.
Playing our key male vamp Count Karol de Lavud is the wonderfully named Germán Robles- who looks like a classic goth vampire, with his brill-creamed dark/ lightly greyed hair, chunky family crest medallion, and long flowing cape. At points, he pretends to just be a regular guy- explaining away the reason for the earth grate shipment been for growing roses.
The Vampire very much sticks to the tropes/ clichés you’d expect from a gothic blood-sucking horror. Though we do get a few neat twists & turns to the formula, as well as of course decidedly Mexican touches. The film is in black and white, with original Spanish with English subs.
Extras wise on this first disc we get a few things- first of the new stuff we have the following: The Mark of Abel(21.44) this is a subtitled interview with sisters Claudia Salazar Arenas and Rosa Salazar Arenas talk about their father, actor, producer, and director Abel Salazar. We find out Abel enjoyed smoking and drinking coffee. He had a great sense of humour, but was highly professional/self-disciplined, and always wore a suit- been a religious man. Mixed in with the filmed interview are clips of Abel films, as well a family photographers & old family film footage. Who’s Afraid of Carmen Montejo?(30.24) Here film programmer, curator and Mexican horror cinema expert Abraham Castillo Flores discusses the career of Cuban-born radio, stage and screen actor Carmen Montejo-who plays the female vamp in the film.
On the archive side, we have a 2007 commentary track with lead actor Germán Robles. Original Mexican theatrical trailer and Image gallery: promotional and publicity materials
On to the second disc, and we have 1958’s The Vampire’s Coffin( El Ataúd Del Vampire), and this is a direct sequel to The Vampire- with the same director, and a few reappearing actors from the first film. This time around the gothic elements are downplayed somewhat- with the film largely taking place in a then present-day Mexican town/ city.
The film pre-credits finds us in a graveyard- as two men make their way to a wall crypt of Count Karol de Lavud. We have the rather shifty brill-creamed Doctor Mendoza(Guillermo Orea), and his lumbering/ towering hired hand Barraza(Yerye Beirute). They pull off the stone plack- pulling the coffin out, inside they find the Count still look pretty good- aside from the huge wooden stake in his chest- though oddly when they put a mirror against the body we see a caped skeleton.
They sneak the coffin & Count back to a local hospital- and just after Doctor Mendoza has left the room, Barraza tries to remove the Count's medallion- it won’t come off, so very stupidly he pulls out the stake- and fairly soon the Count, once again played by Germán Robles- is up to his devilry again.
We get a fair bit of the Count hypnotising folk with his medallion, change into a Bat, and suddenly disappearing/reappearing at will. Barraza gets made into the Count’s henchmen, fairly soon moving his coffin to the city/town's waxwork museum.
Returning cast-wise, aside from Mr Robles, we have Abel Salazar return as our rather hapless hero Enrique Saldívar, and Ariadne Welter as Marta Gonzalez- who once again is the key focus of the Count.
The key nighttime hospital and wax work locations are most effective- with a great almost noir use of shadow. Later on, the action moves to a theatre- with a great fight over the stage, with the whole thing resolving back at the wax works- for a standoff between the Count and our hero.
Cast-wise- all the returning actors slip back well into their roles, and I’d say Robles gets some great chilling to hamming-it-up moments. And Beirute is great a lumbering/dark-features henchman, who has rather a creepy noir goon persona.
All in all The Vampire’s Coffin is a good follow-up to The Vampire, and in some ways, it’s better as there are less cliched key settings, and Robles certainly is coming into his own more as the count…so it's a pity we didn’t get a third film in the series.
On this second disc, we have the following new extras. Memories of a Storyteller( 21.40) an interview with lawyer/ novelist Juan Ramón Obón- remembering his prolific screenwriter father Ramón Obón- who wrote sixty-five scripts, and directed one film. He talks about being woken up early in the morning as a child- as his father worked through the night of scripts. We find out his father was born in Costa Rico, and get stories relating to his time there during WW2. He talks about how/ why he moved to Mexico, and how he got working in the film industry in the country. The Great Mexican Vampire(19.32) this finds horror specialist Roberto Coria discussing Germán Robles and the representation of the vampire myth in Mexican cinema. From the Drawing Board (14.42) interview with film historian and curator Elisa Lozano regarding the work and impact of revered artist and production designer Gunther Gerzso.
On the archive side we have an original Mexican theatrical trailer. Image galleries: French photo novel, originally published at the time of the film’s release, and promotional and publicity material.
The finished release comes with an eighty-page book featuring a new essay by Jesús Palacios, archival essays by Eduardo de la Vega Alfaro and Carmen A Serrano, archival interviews with Carmen Montejo and Ariadne Welter, David Wilt on cinematographers Rosalío Solano and Víctor Herrera, an overview of contemporary critical responses, and film credits.
All in all, El Vampiro: Two Bloodsucking Tales from Mexico, is another classy/well-put-together release from Powerhouse. With lovely clean and crisp new 4k scans of the two films, a good selection of new/ archive extras, and of course the eighty-page book.