Editorials
Monsters, Mental Health and ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’
Movies are one of my favorite ways to celebrate holidays. And while Halloween is my personal favorite holiday, I also look forward to the Christmas season and the movies that come with it. There are several films I enjoy during this time of year, with a special one being The Nightmare Before Christmas. This animated masterpiece was one of my first adventures into the dark and strange. From the tune of “This Is Halloween” to the delightfully creepy inhabitants of Halloween Town, I fell in love instantly. I came to love Jack and Sally, as well as the numerous designs of each monster. I’m not even the biggest musical person and I adore the film’s soundtrack.
The Nightmare Before Christmas is a wonderous film that contains a great deal of nostalgia for me – it has also helped me through difficult times. Throughout my life I’ve sought the film out; sometimes just for the sake of fun, but also to find comfort. Given that it is the holidays, I wanted to write something personal about my relationship to The Nightmare Before Christmas and the emotional significance I find within its narrative and protagonist.
A big reason I fell in love with horror was because of monsters – I’ve always held a special place in my heart for them. Though I’m a big fan of Dracula and The Creature from the Black Lagoon, Frankenstein and the Wolfman always stood out to me for how tragic they came off. I saw them as beings who either just wanted to fit in or who had no control over their impulsive actions, respectively. Flawed, misunderstood; in the wrong at times, but not evil.
I’ve spoken before about my relationship to horror and that of my mental health in the past – how horror movies have provided me a means to reflect upon myself and the struggles I’ve gone through. As someone who came upon the horrors of depression and OCD at an early age, I carried a great sense of “otherness.” For all my intrusive thoughts and compulsions, I felt ugly at times, and yes – even monstrous. The Nightmare Before Christmas brings me a lot of joy for the nostalgia it offers and how it celebrates the holidays, but it also empowers me in its celebration and positive light focused on the other.
While there are drastic differences between us, part of me identifies with Jack’s internal turmoil. It wouldn’t be until years after my initial viewing of the film where I picked up on what he was expressing in the song “Jack’s Lament.” He is known as the Pumpkin King, meant to champion Halloween and perform every year. Everyone looks forward and admires his work, but he is tired and itches for something new. He wants to know he is more than just the crown placed upon him.
A fun monster will scare and creep people out, but a powerful monster will get someone to reflect. Movie monsters oftentimes represent societal anxieties and fears (e.g., Godzilla, the Xenomorph from Alien) – to me though – they also offer a personal analysis. I’ve developed threads between Jack’s identity conflict and that of my own OCD and depression. I have had my moments where I’ve been afraid that I am just my mental illnesses, that my disorders make me who I am.
As a kid with mental illness, I didn’t see much representation of my particular struggles in media. Mental illness wasn’t a popular topic in kids’ movies or shows at the time – Thomas the Tank Engine wasn’t trying to work through gloom and mania each morning. The Nightmare Before Christmas, a kid’s movie, touches upon such ideas (even if they are a bit loose). The protagonist is combating depression and having an existential dilemma.
He eventually finds something that sparks him with inspiration – that being Christmas – and strives to take it over. He becomes obsessed with trying to find meaning within it, as well as inserting himself into that meaning. In his selfish drive, Jack succumbs to a moment of defeat, stating that he failed to bring about Christmas and change himself. Yet, in the song “Poor Jack,” he also acknowledges that he did his best and discovers a sense of rejuvenation. He finds peace in who he is, knowing that he is capable of creativity and being more, and looks forward to next Halloween where he can bring new scares to his friends.
Throughout the years and stories I’ve experienced, it has meant a great deal to witness this moment of development in Jack. Many tales surrounding monsters tend to involve fearing them or pointing out a fear they represent – but here is a movie where the monster comes to find their place in life.
Those of us who endure battles with mental illness each have our own story. In my experience, I used to carry a tremendous feeling of loneliness; that I was so different and incapable of being loved outside of my family, that no one would accept me for my mind. As I began to watch more horror growing up, monsters became a means for me to not feel as alone. I don’t think The Nightmare Before Christmas is this massive exploration of the psyche and existential distress, but through its narrative and protagonist, it is a special movie that has clicked with me.
Monsters, the horror genre for that matter, has this phenomenal power to heal and teach. I’ve come to meet a lot of folks who, while different from myself in many ways, have walked similar paths of suffering. The creepiness that may weird out others, brings us comfort; the dark is our blanket, and a reminder of how strong we are. I enjoy a lot of things – I’m a big ole geek – but I’ll always have a very unique, super important place in my heart for horror and its ghouls. Across all the stories I’ve watched, read, or played, I’ve always been attracted to the other; characters who were kind, maybe a little odd, but who wanted to fit in and just couldn’t. There are many characters I’ve come to love – who have offered me a sense of strength – but no one quite like the Pumpkin King.
For a long time, The Nightmare Before Christmas was solely a powerful source of joy and nostalgia in my life; as an adult though, I’ve come to acknowledge the emotional gifts it has provided me. That said, I feel that I’ve always known there was something extra special about this monster movie – it just took some years of growing to fully understand its value. It is one of those experiences that has changed my life forever (and in more ways than I could ever imagine). The Nightmare Before Christmas is a beautiful story full of charm and spooky delight, and of celebrating the holidays for the cheer they bring. It’s also a film that shows that monsters too face uncertainty and anxieties; that they too are hard on themselves. But even for a monster – The Nightmare Before Christmas speaks to the importance of believing in oneself.
Be safe ya’ll and Happy Holidays. – Michael
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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