1972, 93 minutes

When Blacula was released I wanted to go see it but was not allowed by my parents. Finally, after 40 years I had the chance to view ‘Dracula’s soul brother’ ‘whose bite was out of sight’ for myself.

The production values are low, and with the exception of the strong acting of William Marshal, the performances were terrible. In no other movie save Conan, has the gap in acting ability among the ‘cast been so vast’—sorry, I had to, in the soul groove so to speak.

Genre tropes mean nothing to me. In viewing such movies I am interested in the quality of the text and subtext. To me movies are live action books.

On the surface the plot was stupid, with the filmmakers thinking that Transylvania was a barony in England that was tied in with the slave trade. Dracula, played by Charles Macaulay as Alice Cooper as Thomas Jefferson curses the African prince Mamuwalde ‘with my name’ and entombs him with his wife. 150 years later a mated pair of biracial gay interior directors buy the remains of Dracula’s estate and have it shipped to Los Angeles where Blacula rises and begins to munch down on necks.

Blacula spots a babe that is a ringer for his departed wife, believes her to be the genuine reincarnated article, and woos her until she falls in love with him. The love story aspects of this are written more realistically and more touchingly than in any other vampire movie I have seen. Generally the plot tries to effect a clumsy imitation of Stoker’s original story, but only succeeds as a film when it diverges from the original.

As far as horrific elements the cabbie babe is excellent in both scenes, and the meeting between the funeral director and the coroner at the funeral home was interesting. Sam at the coroner’ office makes a nice Renfield stand in.

The subtext is interesting in terms of the racial politics of the day and the lack of political correctness, like when a cop says, “Who the hell would want a dead fаggot?”

Although the movie was sold with cheesy stunts of Blacula wasting white LAPD cops in an industrial facility, it is in this last scene when the movie—thanks to Marshal and the screenwriter—exceeded all other vampire films and got to a Shakespearean level. Yes Victoria, I wrote that.

William Marshall, takes over the film in the last few scenes of Blacula, as he faces the black Van Helsing [a coroner who assures his black assistant that they will join the white flight out of LA to stay one step ahead of the black crime] and a platoon of cops. He says to his love, “To stay is to die,” and they try to escape but are cornered. She is shot by a cop and to save her he turns her, for he never wanted her to be like him, and just wanted to live as long as she did.

Once she is in his coffin he shouts to the cops, “This will be your inglorious tomb,” and hunts them down. The two heroes find his coffin and kill his wife. Having said, “What is left for this cursed creature,” he approaches the heroes, and when the coroner begins to produce a cross, informs him that it will not be necessary and walks off into the deadly sunlight with his dignity intact.

Blacula is dated, but the love story elements are better than any of the others including the two classics, and the concept of an honorable cursed immortal is given convincing life by Marshall, with all the more impact because of the weak supporting cast and inept parody of Stoker’s original story. The ending is better than any other undead film I have seen, and I therefore have no desire to view the sequel, even though Pam Grier is featured as the costar.

In many ways Blacula is quite dated, so I did not feel bad about spoiling the text, as its interest is in the value of the metaphor and subtext of the final three scenes. Fascinatingly enough, as dated as the production was, the filmmakers preserved viewpoints and dialogue common to the African American community that are taboo today, and would not make it into any film intended for general release.