Editorials
[We Love ’90s Horror] ‘Cemetery Man’ Melds Arthouse Weirdness With Zom-Com Lunacy
The ‘90s often get a bad rap with horror fans. After the numerous successful slashers and creature effects films of the ’80s, the ‘90s offered a different variety of horror fare. Though there were plenty of hits, hidden gems, and misunderstood classics, the ‘90s usually don’t get the kind of love that other decades get when it comes to horror. It’s time to change that.
We often talk about creative people that were “before their time” as a way to indicate that they were brilliant minds who weren’t appreciated because of the standards of their era. But, what about the artists that were after their time? Those who would probably be hailed as vital voices if their output had happened only a decade or so earlier.
One such case is Michele Soavi. A protege of prominent Italian genre directors like Dario Argento and Lucio Fulci, Soavi’s directorial efforts weren’t nearly appreciated enough during their initial outings. However, his films feel like they would have been horror landmarks had they been released during the big boom of Italian genre cinema in the ’70s through the mid-’80s. Thankfully, time and the always gracious horror community has begun to reevaluate Soavi’s work and recognize it as unique and fascinating. His run of horror films from 1987 to 1994 are all worthy of attention, dissection, and discussion. And I think many would agree that his streak ended with his absolute masterpiece, Cemetery Man.
The story centers around Francesco Dellamorte (Rupert Everett), a graveyard caretaker who is stuck in something of a rut. He’s a lonely, uneducated man that would love nothing more than to escape his lot in life. Unfortunately, he’s been tasked with tending to a cemetery where the dead rise from the grave. Francesco and his assistant Gnaghi (François Hadji-Lazaro) have to deal with the reanimated corpses by shooting them in the head. However, Francesco falls in love with a mysterious widower (Anna Falchi) and things begin to spiral out of control.
What makes Cemetery Man so extraordinary and entrancing is the way it manages to balance two very disparate tones: over-the-top zombie comedy and a dreamy arthouse mood. These seem like they’d be constantly clashing with each other, but Soavi casts a spell that carries throughout the entire movie. The wackier elements and the more meditative atmosphere actually blend together to create an experience unlike any other.
The comedic parts of the movie are a real riot, with flying zombie heads and a subplot about Francesco’s penis being hilarious highlights. There’s also a ridiculously inept investigator (Mickey Knox) that can’t even begin to suspect that Francesco might have something to do with all the bizarre events going on. This culminates with a moment in a hospital that I won’t spoil because it’s so absurd that it should be experienced fresh. If all you want out of Cemetery Man is a good laugh, there are plenty to be had.
But, it’s the film’s whimsical attitude that takes Cemetery Man to the next level. Soavi’s camera floats through Francesco’s world like an observing angel, ever curious and befuddled at the actions that humans engage in. The film’s original title, Dellamorte Dellamore (roughly translated “Of Death, Of Love””), gives a better insight into what the movie is examining and even satirizing. Love and death are considered the two prime motivators for human urges, and Cemetery Man takes those two drives and ramps them up to eleven.
What anchors the movie is Everett’s performance as Francesco. He is delightfully weary and could be the poster child for ennui. His lackadaisical take on the character makes him incredibly funny, but it also makes him somewhat off-putting when the story takes a turn and Francesco begins murdering the living instead of the returning dead. Oh, that happens because Death himself appears to Francesco and tells him to stop killing the zombies because they belong to the realm of the dead and that’s Death’s jurisdiction. Yes, it’s this kind of movie.
Honestly, Cemetery Man is one of those movies that you simply have to see in order to best understand why it’s so special. And plenty of respected filmmakers would agree. Demon Knight director Ernest Dickerson praised it on Trailers from Hell and Cape Fear’s Martin Scorsese called it one of the best Italian films of the ‘90s; not just Italian horror films but one of the best overall pieces of Italian cinema from the entire decade. I’m inclined to agree. Cemetery Man is a true one-of-a-kind flick that should have ushered in the arrival of a new horror maestro in Michele Soavi.
While it’s a shame that didn’t happen, we’ll always have Cemetery Man to remind us just how great Soavi’s contributions to horror were. And the film is also yet another reminder that genuine genre masterpieces frequently came out of the 1990s.
Editorials
‘The Vampire Lestat’ Concert Event Launches New Season With The Ultimate Expression Of Fandom
There are thousands of passionate fans decked out in gothic chic and champing at the bit like feral creatures. They’re screaming for Lestat, a legendary vampire-turned-rock star, as if the entire crowd has been glamored into submission.
The entire experience is magic, but not because some supernatural thrall has been activated. What’s going on is even more special. It’s the power of the effusive fandom that’s been authentically assembled by AMC’s sublime Immortal Universe, namely Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire, now, The Vampire Lestat.
The Vampire Lestat is far from the first Anne Rice adaptation, and it’s not as if there’s been a lack of erotic vampire material for audiences to sink their teeth into. On June 2nd, during a one-night-only spectacle, New York City’s prestigious Beacon Theatre shook from Sam Reid’s bravado performance and an audience full of adoring fans who had already memorized Lestat’s songs.
It’s clear that The Vampire Lestat just hits differently than its predecessors. It’s become more than just a TV series at this point, and this opulent display of ego, swagger, and pure sex is the perfect way to premiere the new season and give back to the fans who helped make Interview with the Vampire/The Vampire Lestat such a breakout success. It’s exactly the sort of hyperbolized hedonism that would make Lestat cackle.

For all intents and purposes, AMC has successfully created the illusion that this concert/premiere is just one of the many destinations on Lestat and his band’s 54-stop tour that is simultaneously playing out on this season of television. It’s such a sophisticated and thorough level of interactive fan engagement that the audience doesn’t just understand, but also manages to accentuate through its involvement.
It’s a level of seamless synergy that’s not unlike the give-and-take relationship of vampire and victim.
Before the concert started, “LeStans” were sitting in the Beacon and flipping through a fake Rolling Stone issue with Lestat emblazoned on the cover, complete with interviews with the undead frontman inside. Other fans were admiring the vinyl pressing of Lestat’s EP as they walked past a section of undead band merch. Fandom and fantasy blur together, and it all becomes this elaborate, immersive experience. Fan celebration, erotic gothic fantasy, and a lavish rock concert transform into one beautiful thing.
To this point, AMC Global Media’s Chief Content Officer and President of AMC Studios, Dan McDermott, introduced the event by reiterating to fans, “You are the heartbeat of the series.” That’s abundantly clear on nights like this as that heartbeat collectively pulses to this performance. In terms of how AMC engages with The Vampire Lestat’s fans, it’s as bold a reinvention as the season itself.
This intuitive gamble speaks to AMC’s creativity in this department and a fandom that is eager to seize such opportunities. It’s the same innovation that led to zombie walks for The Walking Dead and real-life Los Pollos Hermanos restaurant pop-ups from Breaking Bad. It’s a great way to pump up the audience for The Vampire Lestat and then maintain that enthusiasm for the whole season.
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For most series, a rock ‘n’ roll concert just doesn’t make any sense as a promotional tool. The Vampire Lestat finds itself in a very unique position where it can deliver an excellent concert at an iconic theater, but also use it to showcase The Vampire Lestat’s music by Daniel Hart (who was shredding on stage alongside Reid and the rest of their band) and, more than anything, Sam Reid’s endless charisma.
The way in which Reid feeds off of the crowd’s energy, modulating his performance and giving different sections of the Beacon life, is a perfect distillation of the series’ thoughtful relationship with its audience and how it’s become such a breakout success for AMC. AMC Studios President Dan McDermott emphasized that the fans are the reason that the show is still here and why an event like this is even possible. It’s rare to see a series in which every single cog in the machine is so perfectly attuned to its fans. Reid’s fans already cheer whenever they see him, so why not translate that to a concert setting?
It’s clear in this season of television that Reid was born to be a rock star, but it’s surreal to see him effortlessly command the stage — and the audience — at every step of the concert. He recites Shakespeare monologues and bitches out Armand between songs, all while the audience screams in support. For the duration of this concert, Reid is Lestat, and he’s given thousands of fans a memory that’s as immortal as any vampire.
Now bring on the encore and get this show on the road!



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