Editorials
How The West Was Won Over By ‘Vampire Hunter D’ [Horrors Elsewhere]
The ‘80s is considered the “golden age” of anime for good reason. This significant era saw the rise of both theatrical and straight-to-video releases, and bigger budgets not only allowed for higher production values and more elaborate art styles, it gave creators the opportunity to dabble in less prevalent genres. Mecha sagas and space operas were already common by this point, so when a horror-western showed up in Japanese theaters days before Christmas in 1985, naturally people’s interest was piqued.
When Vampire Hunter D was picked up for a U.S. release in the early ‘90s, one distributor billed it as “the first animated horror film for adults.” This was a huge selling point in those days because the West was shifting away from mature animation, and the Disney Renaissance was in full swing. Meanwhile in Japan, the economic prosperity of the ‘80s had led to more sophisticated, diverse, and lavish anime. Something like Vampire Hunter D proved anime was undergoing a seismic transformation.
While horror first started cropping up in ‘70s TV anime — Devilman and GeGeGe no Kitarō are notable examples — its more unadulterated state originated in the following decade, starting with Vampire Hunter D. The ‘85 film typifies anime creators’ method of artistic patchworking. D’s first outing draws inspiration mainly from classic European horror, but the influence of westerns is also unmistakable. Anime as a whole has a tendency to pair horror with other genres rather than delivering it plainly. With animation being a desirable vehicle for manifesting ideas not always feasible in live-action storytelling, it only makes sense to integrate other elements and genres.
The first volume in Hideyuki Kikuchi’s long-running series of light novels serves as the basis for Toyoo Ashida’s film. Set 12,000 years in the future, the story shadows D, a drifter who roams the post-apocalyptic badlands collectively called the Frontier. His unique abilities as well as an enduring compassion for those in need make him the best vampire slayer around. What also makes this maverick better than his rivals is the fact that he is cut from the same cloth as his immortal enemies. When passing through a small village, D (voiced by Kaneto Shiozawa) helps Doris Lang (Michie Tomizawa) after she is bitten by the area’s most powerful vampire. The journey to then save Doris from becoming the bride of Count Magnus Lee (Seizō Katō) is fraught with monsters and other uncanny obstacles.
The demographic dial of Vampire Hunter D is eagerly set to “mature,” seeing as the film is garnished with graphic violence and, to a lesser degree, nudity. Admittedly, though, the brutality here has nothing on Ashida’s next feature, Fist of the North Star. The battles in D are admittedly tame when compared to today’s anime, yet for the time period, this was gruesome. An ample supply of bright red blood, the detailedly drawn innards of monster fodder, and grotesque facial reactions all make this film seem more vicious than it actually is.
Kikuchi has gone on record to say he was not satisfied with the ‘85 film, although it did give his books more attention. His disappointment has a lot to do with the aesthetics; the technical quality is not on the same level as other ‘80s anime films and OVAs (original video animation) due to a limited budget. The novels’ artist Yoshitaka Amano had some input in the film, but the final product does not reflect his signature style. The characters are instead streamlined without a trace of Amano’s elegant touch. In its defense, Ashida’s adaptation benefits from the most striking color saturation, and gorgeously painted vistas and scenery.
D would not see the big screen again until 2000 when Kikuchi’s third novel Demon Deathchase was turned into Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust. Both the author and Amano have praised this film, seeing as it better reflects their shared vision of D’s exploits. This time around, the solitary dhampir is hired to rescue a woman, Charlotte Elbourne, who has supposedly been abducted by the vampire Meier Link. Charlotte’s brother has also gone ahead and paid a band of human slayers to save his sister. The race to retrieve Charlotte ultimately leads D and the hunters into an encounter with one of the most powerful and notorious vampires to ever exist.
The overwhelming reverence for Bloodlust is not unjust; it is the most polished anime representation of Vampire Hunter D so far. The film, which premiered in English before the Japanese soundtrack was ever recorded, was well worth the long wait to see D ride again. The ‘85 adaptation has its merits, but Bloodlust is a totally different beast. Director Yoshiaki Kawajiri acknowledges the sheer size of D’s universe, something unrealized in the previous film, and achieves a master level of worldbuilding. The gothic innateness of the novels is realized through the sprawling ruins and monumental architecture. Then, Madhouse’s production values are the definition of opulent; Yutaka Minowa interprets Amano’s highly stylized illustrations with an understanding while still expressing Kawajiri’s desired design. Overall, the attention to detail is meticulous.
Narratively speaking, Bloodlust is less focused and more all over the place than the last film. D’s mission to save Doris Lang was straightforward enough, whereas Kawajiri takes even greater liberties with the source material. He evokes utter chaos for entertainment’s sake. The end result is nothing short of astonishing, not to mention incredibly cinematic and, at times, heartfelt. Kawajiri supplements Kikuchi’s writing in the best way imaginable.
These two films are worlds apart in execution, yet they equally demonstrate the major appeal of Vampire Hunter D. Kikuchi’s heroic daywalker was many people’s first exposure to anime, and needless to say, they crave to see more of D’s animated adventures.
Horrors Elsewhere is a recurring column that spotlights a variety of movies from all around the globe, particularly those not from the United States. Fears may not be universal, but one thing is for sure — a scream is understood, always and everywhere.
Five decades ago, Stephen King published the story of a bullied girl with telekinetic powers and forever changed the world of horror.
Carrie follows a high school misfit who seeks revenge for a hideous prank by psychically destroying her senior prom. The name Carrie White has become synonymous with the concept of a formal dance thanks to a flawless adaptation from Brian De Palma. Now fifty years after the film’s release, Mike Flanagan is putting his own stamp on the troubling story.
Rather than a feature film, the writer/director will expand King’s relatively slim debut novel into an eight-episode miniseries for Amazon Prime set to premiere on October 7.
Flanagan is no stranger to the world of Stephen King. A long-time Constant Reader, he first made waves with his daring adaptation of Gerald’s Game (2017), a novel many fans considered un-filmable. His underrated Doctor Sleep merges the disparate plot of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining with King’s original source material, and his 2024 genre-bending tearjerker The Life of Chuck faithfully executes one of the author’s most metaphysical novellas.
He’s currently mired in pre-production for an expansive adaptation of The Dark Tower series, keystone to King’s connected universe, and Warner Bros. recently announced that Flanagan will helm a new version of The Mist, King’s 1980 novella which sees a small Maine town overrun by otherworldly monsters.
Considering the vast array of the author’s previously unadapted material, an obvious question arises. Why reimagine Carrie in 2026? Noting the timeless nature of the content, Flanagan expressed his desire to bring the story of a bullied girl into modern times, mirroring his approach to Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House and Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher. He explained, “The only way to approach it was to build something new out of the ingredients of Carrie. Otherwise, there’s really no purpose in trying to retread ground that’s been so beautifully walked before.”
His miniseries will maintain the novel’s bloody bookends while delivering “big surprises” along the way.
A New Prom Night Nightmare
The roughly 60-second teaser introduces Summer H. Howell as Carrie White just before the moment of catastrophe. Standing in a prom dress, she smiles at her applauding classmates with an ominous crown perched upon her head. Moments later, Carrie unleashes a rage-filled scream into the night air while promgoers rush for the exit doors. But careful examination of this scene shows Carrie wearing a different, albeit dirty dress as she seems to telekinetically punish her peers.
In an exclusive first look with Entertainment Weekly, Flanagan explains that in his version of the story, “the events of that prom are going to be completely different.” An open trunk emitting a crimson glow does hint at the pig’s blood dumped on Carrie’s head, but it’s likely Flanagan’s formal dance will be a different kind of horror altogether. Despite these changes, the series may end with the widespread destruction outlined in the source material. Unlike any previous adaptations, King’s novel ends with the near-total destruction of Chamberlain, Maine. A flaming street in Flanagan’s trailer promises similar carnage no matter what prank sparks Carrie’s deadly revenge.
The Monstrous Addition of Social Media
On the opposite end of this fiery conclusion is an extreme act of bullying that brings together the story’s main cast. King’s novel begins as Carrie gets her first period while showering in the girls’ locker room. Completely unaware of the concept of menstruation, the sheltered girl thinks she’s bleeding to death. Her classmates respond with vitriolic rage. Led by ultra-mean girl Chris Hargensen (Alison Thornton), they mock the terrified teen while pelting her with tampons. Glimpses of this disturbing event reveal that Flanagan has excised the scene’s nudity while adding a seismic update. As Carrie sobs in the shower stall, Chris and her friends film the breakdown with their phones.
Other scenes note the presence of social media, bringing King’s fifty-year-old story into the digital age.
Flanagan’s adaptation promises to explore the destructive power of social media, an often invisible entity with a potential for harm rivaling Carrie’s own powers. While King’s tormented heroine suffers in front of a small group of girls, Flanagan’s version of the incident will likely become a viral video, potentially circling the globe on social media. Similar to Katt Shea’s criminally underrated The Rage: Carrie 2, which includes elements of revenge porn exploitation, Flanagan’s modern retelling will distinguish itself by exploring the nebulous cruelty of online bullying, a force ten times more powerful than the irl pranks King first envisioned.
A Completely Reimagined White Family
In addition to modernizing these canon events, Flanagan hints at updates to Carrie’s oppressive upbringing at the hands of her mother, Margaret White (Samantha Sloyan). Dead before the novel begins, we never meet Carrie’s domineering father Ralph, known to carry a bible alongside his gun. Flanagan’s White household will be an altogether different beast. In his version of the story, Carrie and her mother have been hidden away in the unassuming home, forced out of hiding by Ralph’s unexpected death. Perhaps we will finally meet this elusive man whose shadow hangs over his wife and child. Considering the White family’s fundamentalist lifestyle, this reimagining hints at tradwife culture and a home ruled by staunch patriarchal control.
Whereas King’s Carrie has been tormented by her classmates since Kindergarten, Flanagan’s Carrie will be a wide-eyed newcomer to public school, eager to make friends and engage with her peers. We glimpse Carrie cozying up to Chris and the equally popular Sue Snell (Siena Agudong) as she navigates a new social scene. Of course, we know this kindness is part of an elaborate plot designed to lull Carrie into a false sense of camaraderie, setting up an atrocious act of public humiliation. These brief moments of feigned compassion put Sue’s own complicity into question. Will Flanagan’s version of the character find the courage to defend Carrie from vicious bullies or will she succumb to peer pressure and join in the mob mentality?
Perhaps the biggest deviation from King’s original text is the relationship between Carrie and her mother. King’s Margaret White is a horrifically abusive religious zealot whose worldview has been hardened by internalized misogyny. She shames Carrie for menstruating, locks her in a closet to “pray,” and regrets not killing her child in infancy. She’s also responsible for Carrie’s social ostracization. Known to berate her neighbors for their “sins,” Margaret forces her daughter to live by an extreme code of conduct and disallows any potential friends lest they corrupt the girl with their worldly ways.
Flanagan’s version of the character is perhaps just as much a victim as Carrie herself. Also trapped inside her home, his Margaret is overly vigilant, her own trauma manifesting as strict control. Describing a more sympathetic depiction of the iconic villain, Flanagan explains, “Our Margaret White is a woman who fiercely loves her daughter and wants to protect her from this world … [She] doesn’t know how to do that and thinks the way to protect her is to close her off; not punitively, but to create this private utopia.”
Despite this potential softening, Sloyan’s Margaret may still have a sharp edge. Though she has appeared in many Flanagan projects, from Hush (2016) to The Fall of the House of Usher (2023), she is best known for her role as the abhorrent Bev Keane in the poignant saga Midnight Mass (2021). Perhaps inspired by King’s Margaret White, Bev is pious and sadistic, willing to punish anyone who does not adhere to her warped approximation of Catholicism.
Flanagan specifically wrote Margaret with Sloyan in mind, likely remembering the actress’s eerie ability to create deceptive empathy and shift our allegiances on a dime.
Expanding Stephen King’s Telekinetic Universe
While most of King’s story deals with an unthinkable prom night in Chamberlain, Maine, large sections of the semi-epistolary novel see experts debating the nature of telekinesis. Do Carrie’s frightening abilities represent a new phase in human evolution or is the prom night carnage merely a fluke? King settles the debate with a shocking denouement in which a young mother recounts her infant daughter’s ability to dangle her crib toys in midair. We’re left to wonder if she will become another tormented girl who surprises the world with metaphysical strength.
Flanagan plans to build out this brief scene while amplifying themes of female empowerment. After introducing our main cast of characters, episode two will open with an unrelated story in which we meet another girl with the TK gene. Each subsequent chapter will expand this world, building out a roster of telekinetic young women. Considering King’s fondness for stories about powerful kids, often described as possessing “the shining,” Constant Readers will no doubt have their eyes peeled for various Easter Eggs nodding to the author’s vast catalogue.
Giving Carrie Her Own Voice
Perhaps the most striking distinction in Flanagan’s new trailer is the extent to which we hear Carrie’s voice. The sneak peek is fully narrated by the titular prom queen as she demands accountability. “I want to know why,” she explains while detailing Chris’ elaborate plan. Aside from the aforementioned coda, King’s book essentially ends with the aftermath of the prom night tragedy, leaving little time for Carrie to reflect. His shifting narrative does bring the reader into her fragile mind, though not before she’s been cowed by relentless cruelty. We watch Carrie sink into bloodthirsty revenge, but never hear a considered desire for justice or repair.
Flanagan’s original monologue allows Carrie to voice her pain and mourn the life she could have had. We’re also treated to a mug shot-style photo of Chris with a bruised and bandaged face, implying that the mean girl will have to answer for her senseless sadism.
Flanagan is known for filling his series adaptations with heartwrenching speeches that cut to the heart of his thematic intentions, and this teaser seems to follow suit. After years of fans, critics, and scholars analyzing Carrie’s pain, perhaps his modern retelling will offer the titular anti-hero a chance to finally speak for herself.
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