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[Maple Syrup Massacre] Fort Mentality and Indigenous History in ‘Ginger Snaps Back: The Beginning’

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Maple Syrup Massacre is a monthly series where Bloody Disgusting dissects the themes, conventions and contributions of new and classic Canadian horror films. Spoilers follow…


In the first edition of Maple Syrup Massacre, Adam MacDonald’s Backcountry highlighted the woods as a threat, as well as an opportunity to highlight one of the main “types” of Canadian male characters.

This month, those ideas remain in play, but they’re being contextualized by the concept of a garrison, or “fort mentality” and filtered through the lens of Grant Harvey’s Ginger Snaps Back: The Beginning. The 2004 film is a prequel to the original Ginger Snaps, and was shot back to back with the sequel, Ginger Snaps 2: Unleashed. The first film is set in a generic-looking Ontario suburb, whereas the second film is set in an asylum on the border of the city and the forest.

The third film, which purports to examine the origins of the werewolf curse by tracing its lineage back to Ginger (Katharine Isabelle) and Brigitte (Emily Perkins)’ ancestors in the 19th century, is set primarily within the walls of Fort Bailey, situated deep in the woods of Ontario (although the film was actually shot in Edmonton, on the other side of the country).

Before we discuss the film, a Canadian history lesson:

Modern colonialism began in Canada with the establishment of trading forts set up along the river systems in both Ontario and Quebec. European explorers arrived in two waves: the French arrived first in the late 16th century, establishing trade routes in what is now Quebec (specifically along the St. Lawrence River, with a base of operations in Montreal). The French coureurs de bois (wood runners) bartered with local Indigenous tribes as part of the fur trade of beaver pelts (Canada’s national animal). The English were technically present around Hudson’s Bay during this time, though it was only when the English “conquered” Canada in the mid-18th century (ie: defeated the French) that they began an aggressive Western expansion. This necessitated the creation of a system of trading forts to facilitate the transportation and sale of goods to explorers, as well as the companies who employed them (North West Company and Hudson’s Bay Company). Indigenous people, initially valued for their knowledge and expertise, were eventually relocated, abused and/or killed when the colonial project deemed them unnecessary.

This history is important because Ginger Snaps Back: The Beginning includes both English and French characters, as well as Indigenous peoples, in the narrative. When the film opens, Brigitte and Ginger stumble out of the woods and into a trading fort whose barricaded inhabitants live in fear of the wolves outside of the gate. The girls explain that they are the lone survivors of a shipwreck that claimed their parents (this is a lie, although the truth of their situation is never wholly explained). Considering the timeline, their explanation would suggest that their family are voyageurs (French Canadians who transported furs by canoe), though the girls are clearly not French.

As always, there is a significant gendered element to the film. In Ginger Snaps Back, the girls are the only women in a fort populated exclusively by men and their sudden appearance inside the fort’s walls leads some men to blame them for the werewolf attacks. For men, the fort is a protected space – literally a safe space against the outside world and its respective monsters.

This is because the fort is a symbol of the garrison mentality, a term coined by Canadian literary critic Northrop Frye and then popularized by author Margaret Atwood in her 1972 non-fiction bestseller, Survival: A Thematic Guide To Canadian Literature. The concept stems from the belief that Canadian identity (as we explored in the last column) is inherently fearful of the Canadian landscape and the oppressiveness of others, which can only be combated by the erection of a protected homestead.

The fallibility of concept is obvious: by locking the world out, you are required to lock yourself in. In horror films, boundaries exist primarily to be torn down, which is exactly what occurs in Ginger Snaps Back. Throughout the narrative, the walls of Fort Bailey are repeatedly breached, allowing death and illness to seep into the so-called civilized world within.

The concept of civilization is literally embodied by the fort, which acts as a microcosm for Canada in the 19th century. It is populated by both the English and the French and most of the men do not get along. There are two men of notable professions: a doctor (Matthew Walker) and a Reverend (Hugh Dillon), both of whom are eventually revealed to be hypocrites. Doc Murphy is a drug addict whose talents are used not to heal, but to identify werewolves. Meanwhile, the Reverend’s first notable act after the girls enter the fort is to lock them in a building with a werewolf, recite a Latin verse and encourage them to burn in hell.

The other men are no better. James (J.R. Bourne) attempts to rape Brigitte and even fort leader Wallace (Tom McCamus), arguably the best man in the group, lies about his son Geoffrey (Stevie Mitchell)’s condition, which results not only in Ginger’s infection, but ultimately the destruction of the fort and everyone inside of it. In this capacity, all of these men once again adhere to the Canadian conventions of male characters: Wallace and Doc Murphy are cowards, while James and the Reverend are bullies who threaten and intimidate the Fitzgerald sisters. The fact that none of them survive the film confirms that the garrison mentality, particularly for men, is fallible and dangerous.

The sisters, by comparison, are adaptable. Initially they, too, struggle against the elements: Brigitte’s foot is caught in a bear trap and later, when they flee the fort with their Indigenous guide Milo (Fabian Bird), the roaming POV shots and quick pans reinforce the dangers of the outside world. By film’s end, however, when the men’s “civilization” has been destroyed and the fort burned down, an infected Ginger informs Brigitte that she is unbothered by the cold, suggesting that the “curse” of the werewolf will allow them to survive in the wilds of Canada where men could not.

One final notable element in Ginger Snaps Back is its treatment of Indigenous characters. While it is true that both the Seer (Edna Rain) and the Hunter (Nathaniel Arcand) are stereotypically noble and sage, it is fascinating that they are also the only rational characters in the film. The men of Fort Bailey act primarily out of fear, attempting to hide or dispel anything that they do not understand. Even the Fitzgerald sisters are driven by their emotional connection to each other, which is why Brigitte elects to stay with her sister and propagate the curse on the land that will one day become Bailey’s Down from the first film (an inversion of the the first film’s ending).

For all of their likability, Brigitte and Ginger are not heroines. The reality of the narrative is that they murder all of the Indigenous characters in the film, including Milo, the Seer and the Hunter. The Fitzgerald sisters are therefore stand-ins for the white colonialists who murdered countless Indigenous people in order to prosper and “create” the nation. On the surface, the melancholy ending of the film suggests that Brigitte and Ginger’s decision to remain in the woods is the start of the cycle documented in Ginger Snaps. The reality is that this reading privileges the story of two white women, which erases the story and contributions of the Indigenous people whose land Fort Bailey and the girls occupy. Just like real life, white history is given precedence at the expense of the historically marginalized, original settlers of the land.

In this capacity, the film reflects a dark, uncomfortable history of Canada that remains – to this day – rarely acknowledged. For that reason alone, Ginger Snaps Back: The Beginning is worth a rewatch.


Next time on Maple Syrup Massacre: let’s celebrate the start of the school year with some math and madness in Vincenzo Natali’s Cube!

Joe is a TV addict with a background in Film Studies. He co-created TV/Film Fest blog QueerHorrorMovies and writes for Bloody Disgusting, Anatomy of a Scream, That Shelf, The Spool and Grim Magazine. He enjoys graphic novels, dark beer and plays multiple sports (adequately, never exceptionally). While he loves all horror, if given a choice, Joe always opts for slashers and creature features.

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Editorials

‘Bloodlust: Subspecies III’ Remains One of Full Moon’s Greatest Achievements

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Bloodlust: Subspecies III

The problem with filming sequels back-to-back is that, unless you can afford expensive reshoots, there’s no easy way to adjust course in between movies if fans react badly to where the story is headed. That’s why it’s important to have a complete narrative thought out well in advance lest you accidentally kill a budding franchise.

However, this isn’t always the case. Every once in a while, it seems like the cinema gods smile upon certain chaotic productions and gift moviegoers with complete franchises that feel like more than the sum of their hastily produced parts. Ted Nicolaou’s Bloodlust: Subspecies III is precisely one of these miraculous pictures, with the raw talents of the artists involved (as well as the continued support from Romania) turning the feature into an effective conclusion for a series that kind of made things up as the filmmakers went along.

That’s why I’d like to invite my fellow readers to join me on this third part of our journey through the Subspecies franchise as we look into Bloodlust and talk about how it remains a surprisingly satisfying finale to the original trilogy.

A Trilogy Planned on the Fly

Released only a year after Bloodstone found plenty of success in rental stores and mail-in VHS catalogues worldwide, 1994’s Bloodlust was produced at the same time as its predecessor in (mostly) the same locations and with the same team. This means that the movie benefited from all the same upgrades as Bloodstone, with the crew now being more experienced with the ins and outs of surviving a low-budget Romanian production and the cast really settling into their characters.

At this point, everything from location scouting to the makeup process had been streamlined, with Wayne Toth and Norman Cabrera, the main duo behind special effects, even switching out time-consuming prosthetics for latex gloves in order to speed up Anders Hove’s monstrous transformation. The titular “subspecies” demons were also once again relegated to a mere cameo appearance due to the laborious puppetry required to bring them to life.

The only real hiccup came from the fact that actress Denice Duff had replaced the first film’s Michelle (Laura Mae Tate) and was immediately expected to portray the character as both an innocent victim in part II and as a secondary villain in part III. According to behind-the-scenes interviews, the hectic production schedule that blended two different movies meant that Duff would often find herself having to alternate between two incredibly different versions of Michelle during the same shooting day – though it’s obvious that she’s having more fun with Bloodlust’s more traditionally vampiric version of her character.

In the finished film, we pick things up immediately where the previous entry left off as Rebecca (Melanie Shatner) is forced to leave her vampire sister Michelle (Duff) behind in the dungeons of Castle Vladislav due to the rising sun. This allows Mummy (Pamela Gordon) to use Michelle’s blood to revive the vicious Radu (Hove) so that he may continue his quest for the coveted Bloodstone – a magical artifact that perpetually drips the Blood of Saints.

Meanwhile, the dreamy US embassy agent Mel (Kevin Blair) agrees to help Rebecca plan a rescue mission, though they’re unaware that Radu has become infatuated with Michelle during his attempts to guide her growing bloodlust. This all culminates in a climactic confrontation meant to tie up all of the series’ loose ends in one of Full Moon Pictures’ most ambitious productions.

The Evolution of Radu

Like its predecessor, Bloodlust: Subspecies III was also warmly received by fans who argued that the series was an even bigger success than Full Moon’s other major horror franchise, Puppet Master. This praise wasn’t unanimous, however, as 1994 had seen the rise of a more modern breed of sexy vampire popularized by Anne Rice, with old-school Nosferatu like Radu being viewed as obsolete when compared to the likes of Lestat and Gary Oldman’s take on Dracula.

In a way, one might argue that Nicolaou’s film is something of a swan song for the classic vampire story, as Bloodlust combines all of the traditional elements we tend to associate with these tales into a single tragic yarn that ties a neat little bow on Radu’s story as well as the old-fashioned monster movies that he represents. The finale remains shocking despite the fact that this is the third time we see Radu get brutally killed onscreen, with the brief tease that he may one day return feeling more like a nod towards the nature of evil rather than sequel bait.

The film dabbles a bit in gothic romance and even explores the inherent power fantasy behind transforming into an immortal creature of the night, but the filmmakers never lose sight of Radu as a demonic force even when he’s willing to betray his beloved Mummy for Michelle’s sake. In fact, his twisted “love” for his fledgling makes him even creepier as we get the feeling that his passion comes from a dark and disturbing place.

Anders Hove is at his absolute best in this film, with the effects department boosting his moments of what the younger generation would call “aura farming” whenever Radu emerges from shadows like a 90s version of Count Orlok. There are even a couple of surprisingly effective jump-scares here, which is why I’d argue that Bloodlust cements Radu as one of the most memorable cinematic vampires of all time despite his humble origins.

Subspecies Saves Its Best For Last

Nicolaou and Vlad Panescu also saved the best for “last” (more on that in a bit) regarding the film’s visuals, with the cinematography and overall atmosphere of Bloodlust absolutely surpassing what we saw in the previous films. Everything feels appropriately climactic this time around (including the wonderful soundtrack that was co-composed alongside an authentic Romanian orchestra), and I appreciate how this is the fastest-paced entry in the trilogy since the film doesn’t need to waste time setting anything up.

Bloodlust still suffers from some of the same low-budget blemishes as its predecessors, but there’s so much creative passion here that no amount of wonky effects work or stilted dialogue can get in the way of appreciating the flick’s gothic grandeur. That’s why it’s not surprising that the movie’s definitive(-ish) ending would later be retconned as fans begged for more Radu.

Of course, the next entry in this series would be a different kind of vampiric endeavor altogether, with the filmmakers attempting to engage with the same trends that ultimately killed Radu and his antiquated kin. That, however, is a story for another time. For now, I’ll merely insist that Bloodlust: Subspecies III remains a highlight of Full Moon’s expansive catalogue and is definitely worth seeking out today.

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