Vamped Out

I have around five essay-length posts that I have every intention of publishing very soon, but I've learned to embrace each and every train of thought that keeps this twisted mind of mine entertained.

Train of the moment? Vampires. I've always been fascinated by any subject interesting enough to pull me away from what I'm supposed to be focusing on, and I've always been fond of vampires in particular. I think my first exposure to vampire lore was the 1992 film Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The essence of the plot? A young Californian female who enjoyed nothing better than maxing out her credit at the Beverly Center must now grapple with her calling to destroy vampires and other various demons.

Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm a person of high taste. Say what you want, but it was a fairly enjoyable camp flick. I remember checking the TV Guide listings for the HBO broadcast schedule in order to catch the flick whenever it was on the television. Imagine my glee when the (now defunct) WB network announced a spinoff in 1997. I remained a faithful viewer throughout the show's six year run. The television series quickly surpassed the film in terms of quality and intrigue. In the TV version (which I highly recommend), Buffy falls in love with Angel, a vampire cursed with a soul. Though Buffy's mission as the Slayer keeps her bound to the night, she'd love nothing better than to be whisked off by her pale lover into a beautiful sunrise...oh wait.



In 2000, one of my favorite singers, Aaliyah, announced her intention to star in a feature film adaptation of The Queen of the Damned, the third installation of Anne Rice's much-heralded Vampire Chronicles. Those familiar with Rice's canon know that her main thesis is that vampires retain their personality after being created, and many of them are sensitive, emotional creatures that spend a large part of their existence reflecting on their lost mortality (when they're not ripping out throats, that is). Though the film itself was of questionable merit, it was enough to turn my attention to Rice's literary work.

After having read books I-III - Interview with the Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, and The Queen of the Damned, the latter of which I finished shortly after arriving in Paris, I considered myself just about done with vampires, until I got hooked on this, my newest guilty pleasure.



One of HBO's newest series, True Blood, tells the story of a Louisiana waitress named Sookie Stackhouse (raise eyebrows in amusement here), a young telepath who falls in love with Bill Compton, a vampire created during the Civil War. Though I openly deride this show for its obvious cliches, I somehow managed to watch 11 episodes within a week. Congratulations, HBO. You've won me over.

But I've got to draw the line with this Twilight mess. Yes, I know the film claimed more than $70 million at the box office this weekend, but as you can see, the vampire-with-a-conscience wheel is one that Hollywood has spun one times too many. I am not at all familiar with the Twilight novels, but I'd bet every cent to my name that the franchise features the following plot elements:

- Socially alienated young girl (prom queens and yearbook editors are much too busy to consort with the fang gang)
- Socially alienated young girl's motley crew of fellow outcasts who cannot fathom their friend's interest in Undead Americans (sorry, guess that's one less friend to attend the latest Evanescence concert with you)
- Broody, mopey, but always sexually attractive vampires frozen in immortal youth and beauty (Human blood creates the same fountain of youth effect as Botox, apparently)
- Vampiric love interest faces ostracism from his own kind for showing interest in humans (otherwise known as dinner)

I often fantasize about being in a position where I am able to call public attention to this fact. Maybe Roger Ebert is in need of a page? Who knows. All I know is that I need something new to fixate on. I tried exercise, but it makes me tired.