International treasure Isabelle Huppert is a singular presence. A frequent collaborator with controversial directors like Michael Haneke and Paul Verhoeven, the regal actress often chooses nuanced, complex roles, with nary a weak entry in the bunch.
That’s what makes the idea of her portraying alleged historic serial killer Elizabeth Báthory so enticing. Huppert commands the screen in writer/director Ulrike Ottinger‘s camp oddity The Blood Countess, but a flailing script and an abundance of tertiary characters threaten to derail the production.
In present-day Vienna, Elizabeth Báthory (Huppert) resurrects from a decades-long slumber at the same time her descendant, vegetarian vampire Baron Rudi Bubi von Strudel (Thomas Schubert), discovers rumors of a mysterious book that will revert vampires to their human form if they shed tears on its pages. The Countess reunites with her loyal maid Hermine (Birgit Minichmayr) to track down the book and destroy it, seducing and draining the occasional maiden along the way. Rudi Bubi inadvertently joins the Countess on her quest, hiding his true intention of using the book to gain back his mortality.
Plot plays second fiddle to deadpan idiosyncrasies in The Blood Countess, with Ottinger more interested in the strange, and admittedly fascinating, world she is building than any sort of coherent plot. It’s what the kids call “a vibe” nowadays, though it’s a wholly unique and distinctive vibe that’s impossible to ignore.
The literary MacGuffin is oft-mentioned but never truly feels like the threat it’s meant to be, despite Hermine’s insistence that it could destroy vampire kind (what are humans going to do? Put vampires in the stocks and hold the book under their heads until they weep?). The maid and her mistress embark on a literal scavenger hunt, which plays out like a quirky The Da Vinci Code as the two women move from place to place searching for the next clue, encountering many, many colorful characters along the way.
Speaking of side characters, The Blood Countess is awash in them. On top of Báthory’s nephew Rudi Bubi (a name that never ceases to inspire laughs, despite how often it’s spoken throughout the film), we’ve got vampiric scholars Theobastus Bombastus (André Jung) and Nepomuk Afterbite (Marco Lorenzini), a vampiric council, a colony of nuns, a trio of Báthory’s drunken ancestors and an adorable CGI bat named Pipistrello, among several others.
Oh, and how could we forget queer cabaret singer Conchita Wurst (Tom Neuwirth), who delivers a late-in-the-game rendition of their 2014 EuroVision-winning number “Rise Like a Phoenix“? It’s a lot, but excess is the name of the game in The Blood Countess.
While these characters never completely pull focus from Huppert (what could?), they lack the magnetic pull of Báthory herself. By the second half of the film’s 2-hour runtime, you’ll find yourself wishing more time was spent with Báthory and Hermine, as it is their relationship that proves the most intriguing. Ottinger clearly has an affinity for the tertiary oddballs, whose non sequiturs occasionally amuse, but more often confuse the narrative. So much so that it’s often difficult to decipher what’s going on on a scene-to-scene basis.
You’d be forgiven for thinking The Blood Countess is more energetic than it is, given how many cogs in the machine we’re working with, but Ottinger isn’t in a rush to get anywhere. It’s that languid pacing that nearly proves to be the film’s downfall. A haphazard approach to the editing may have actually worked in the film’s favor, but alas. Don’t worry, though. Huppert is here to save the day.
Introduced as the ostensible figurehead of a lavish barge adorned with extravagant crimson fabric as it cruises along a subterranean lake in Vienna, Huppert’s Báthory is immediately established as the grand diva that she is. Outfitted in costume designers Katharina Forcher and Jorge Jara‘s lavish capes (So. Many. Capes.) and dresses with comically long trains, Huppert’s majestic nature permeates the screen. It’s a wonderful role for the actress, who gets to exercise her comedic muscles with some delightfully deadpan line deliveries.
Despite being set in modern times, The Blood Countess is decked out in borderline anachronistic period accoutrements. From horse-drawn carriages to the aforementioned costumes and opulent set dressings, it’s a glorious sight to behold. Every frame of the film is bathed in production designer Christina Schaffer‘s sumptuous decor, with cinematographer Martin Gschlacht‘s (Goodnight Mommy) mise-en-scène providing additional spectacle. A staged shaving-turned-throat-slitting presentation to the vampire council is as gorgeous as it is grotesque in its Grand Guignol designs.
Though The Blood Countess‘ deliberately obtuse nature is more boon than bane, it’s likely to leave many viewers confounded. A tighter edit and focused narrative would have gone a long way towards fixing these issues, but at least we have Huppert to escort us along the way.
The Blood Countess made its North American premiere at Fantastic Fest. Theatrical release is expected in Spring 2027.
