Editorials
A Charming Apocalyptic Misfire: The Curious Case of Clive Barker’s ‘The Plague’
Clive Barker has always made it clear how grateful he is for Stephen King’s quote about him being “the future of horror”, an unexpected compliment that launched a legendary career. Over the years, the author has repaid that kindness by attempting to do the same for other horror artists, going so far as to start his own independent production company in order to help propagate the work of up-and-coming filmmakers. Back in 2006, this led Barker and Seraphim Pictures to proudly produce Hal Masonberg‘s The Plague, a unique apocalyptic thriller that was ultimately sabotaged by behind-the-scenes drama and meddling distributors.
Taking a cue from films like Village of the Damned and Invasion of the Body-Snatchers, The Plague follows the aftermath of an unexplainable illness that causes every child on earth to fall into an irreversible coma. A decade later, we accompany Tom Russell (James Van Der Beek) as he’s released from prison and returns to his quiet hometown in search of peace. Unfortunately, the infected children begin to wake up with homicidal intentions, compelling Tom and a small group of survivors to attempt to escape town during what appears to be a bizarre version of the biblical end times.
Part zombie movie, part supernatural thriller and part philosophical parable, it’s no surprise that The Plague‘s peculiar setup convinced Barker to add his name to the project. The idea of an entire generation turning against their predecessors makes this a uniquely tragic apocalypse, with parents being forced to confront their own offspring in order to survive. Having the comatose children share a collective hive-mind also ramps up the stakes significantly, with the infected slowly learning how to systematically eliminate all surviving adults with evolving strategies and weapons. This nightmarish scenario leads to a series of gruesome deaths that wouldn’t feel out of place in the Books of Blood collections.
While I have fond memories of watching The Plague on late-night television years ago and having fun with its unorthodox approach to what could have been just another George Romero knockoff, there’s no denying that the film is an absolute mess. Despite a genuinely interesting premise and likable characters, the storytelling here is downright sloppy, with wonky pacing, bad editing and the baffling absence of a proper final act. The movie simply “stops” instead of actually “ending”, leaving viewers with a vague collection of loose ends and never really bothering to explain its central mysteries.
Night of the living coma patients.
Unsurprisingly, most of these blunders appear to be the fault of Screen Gems, who were dissatisfied with the picture’s unconventional tone. After a series of arguments, the director supposedly exited the project before the movie was even locked, leading the distributor to re-edit the final film without any input from either Barker or Masonberg. Concerned with the movie’s slow pace and overly-somber tone, the distributors removed several important character moments, as well as a few brainy discussions about the nature of the plague itself before dumping the movie directly onto home video.
This haphazard edit led to even more pacing issues, with some segments of the film feeling like a bizarre fever-dream as the characters wander around from set-piece to set-piece, never really understanding what’s going on around them. The audience is also left confused with a series of references to Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath that don’t really amount to anything. While this dreamlike vibe can be entertaining in a Twin Peaks sort of way, it really doesn’t mesh well with the story’s obvious slow-burn intentions, resulting in the finished film having a near-constant identity crisis.
There are other issues as well, with The Plague‘s low production value sometimes making it look like a made-for-TV project despite excellent photography work by genre veteran Bill Butler. The modest budget also sabotages the large-scale story Masonberg was aiming to tell, as we never really see how the rest of the world is dealing with the situation. To be honest, I would have loved to see more of this alternate history where an entire generation was lost overnight and society had to adjust to the idea that humanity might no longer have a future. The film hints at the larger impact of the titular plague, but not enough time (or money) is spent developing how the world at large deals with this cataclysmic issue, which I think is a wasted opportunity.
Luckily, despite studio-mandated edits and a shoestring budget, The Plague still retains a mysterious Twilight-Zone-like atmosphere that helps to keep things interesting. The small-town setting helps with the eerie mood, and the vague nature of this apocalypse keeps audiences in the dark alongside our confused protagonists. These characters are also generally likable, though Van Der Beek really steals the show as an ex-con trying to make up for past mistakes. Ivana Milicevic is also great as Tom’s reluctant ex-lover Jean Raynor, and the movie even benefits from the always-charming Dee Wallace in a small but memorable appearance.
These kids have no respect for their elders.
Even so, both Masonberg and Barker have been refreshingly open about their distaste for The Plague‘s final cut, with the director even setting up a website asking fans to help convince Screen Gems to release the official writer’s/director’s cut. While I haven’t had the pleasure of watching this alternate version of the film, there are quite a few quotes on the site claiming that it’s a more coherent vision of a story that deserves to see the light of day.
According to interviews with Barker, however, even the unedited footage couldn’t quite live up to Masonberg’s original script, which promised a much grander and more stylized take on the end of the world. At one point during filming, Barker even suggested that producers throw some extra cash into the production so Masonberg could reshoot a few unsatisfactory scenes in order to better match what was on the page. Unfortunately, the producers had already made up their mind, and the rest is history.
While there’s no way of being sure if the fabled Director’s Cut is a significant improvement to the original release, the version of The Plague that we ultimately got is still worth revisiting as a cinematic oddity. It may be more than a little rough around the edges and the story’s attempts at a brainy apocalypse probably won’t be to everyone’s liking, but it’s easy to see that there was a lot of potential here. If you’re willing to overlook a few flaws, I think there’s a lot to love about this charming apocalyptic misfire.
College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.
Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.
Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.
To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character.
Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp
The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.
Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.
If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.
Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.
Grace Jones in Vamp
Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.
As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.
Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.
Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp
Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.
In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.
The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partner “Squeak”, who looks like he was “fed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains”. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires.
Lisa Lyon in Vamp
If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.
Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.
The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of a “comic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong does” come true, and it is very enjoyable.
You must be logged in to post a comment.