The Hunger
Oct 4th, 2008 | By The Tuscaloosa Strangler | Category: Recent Cinema, Reviews
When I saw the pretentious, 80s-techno opening — cut to Bauhaus’ “Bela Lugos is Dead,” for God’s sake — I thought: “Ah, hell. This is going to be a long and bumpy ride.” After all, it was directed by Tony Scott, that master of empty sizzle — see Spy Game, Deja Vu and Enemy of the State if you don’t believe me – and, well, you can understand how I felt.
And maybe it was the Sarah Palin effect — you know, lowered expectations and all — but darned if I didn’t like The Hunger. It grabbed hold of me early on and kept my attention for all of its hour-and-a-half running time. Scott took a script based on Whitley Strieber’s novel and fashioned a deceptively fast-moving picture.
It does this using the oldest trick in the book: withholding information and then doling it out, piece by delicious piece. We know from the outset that Miriam (Catherine Deneuve) and John (David Bowie) are drinking some serious blood, but just what their relationship is, we’re not sure. Why is Bowie aging all of a sudden, and Deneuve (gloriously) is not? Just why do they seek out gerontologist Sarah (Susan Sarandon)? These questions are answered, bit by bit, throughout the course of the film, at just the right pace.
John and Miriam are vampires, of course, but they don’t have fangs. They slit their victims open with ankh necklaces containing switchblades. Their victims put up a fuss as they bleed out, and droplets of blood spray discreetly about. And that might be one of the movie’s flaws, at least to the hard-core vampire lovers out there: a certain lack of red vampire meat. I mean, come on: vampires without fangs?
But even so: if you’re willing to be a little less dogmatic about your vampires, The Hunger is a lot of fun. Though it functions as a suspense film, it is gorgeously atmospheric: director of photography Stephen Goldblatt creates a shadowed, noir-influenced world that is absolutely beautiful. And though at times it veers a bit too far into the pretentious — how many shots of billowing drapery can we take? — overall, it’s an appealing blend of art and horror. And from Tony Scott, no less.
Favorite Moment: The transition from Sarah’s bloody initiation to a shot of a knife cutting into rare steak. Nobody ever said Scott was subtle. (And is this where the makers of Dexter got the idea?)
Least Favorite Moment: The idiotic scene in the clinic where the token African American (Rufus Collins) explains, after looking at Sarah’s blood for a few minutes, that this other blood — not human! — is at war with her own. Why do they always muck up a perfectly acceptable horror flick with some half-assed science?
Extra-Added Bonus! David Bowie’s life mask!
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Though it comes in a somewhat complimentary package, I’m glad to read your disdain for Tony Scott. I can’t stand that guy. What world class back-to-back-to-back trash we were treated to with Man on Fire, Domino, and Deja Vu.
Also. Have you seen Vampire’s Kiss? I’m a big fan of that movie for Nic Cage’s performance (Hi, Fletch!), and I’d be curious to know if you like it or not. I guess it doesn’t really fall into the traditional vampire flick, but…
I think Scott’s movies are generally entertaining — I admit to enjoying one or two — but they’re empty entertainments, all sizzle and flash and no substance.
Vampire’s Kiss is on my list for October viewing. I hope to write about it at some point.
I didn’t like this movie much at all when I saw it but that was years ago when it came out. It seemed so glitzy and glossy and posed but it’s been, what, like 26 years? I may actually queue this up thanks to you. And if I’m still dissatisfied, I’m coming after you with an Ankh switchblade.
Ah, but it will be a delicious death, my friend …