Vampyr (dir. Carl Theodor Dreyer, 1932)
The first years of sound cinema were a period of adjustment for the art and industry. While synchronized sound-and-picture had been technically possible since the turn of the century, it was only by the late 1920s that it became viable as sound-on-disc systems such as Vitaphone came to prominence. Stories of actors suddenly put out of work now that their voices could be heard are common enough, but filmmakers too had to accommodate for and adjust to new technologies and techniques if they wished to continue in the industry. Some held out longer than others (Chaplin notably), but silent film was on its way out by the 1930s.
Among them was the Danish director Carl Theodor Dreyer whose 1928 film The Passion of Joan of Arc is rightfully acknowledge as a masterpiece of the silent era. By the 1930s, he was ready to work with sound. Rather than continue to write and direct dramas and religious films, he instead decided to do a horror film. Like his contemporary F. W. Murnau, he would turn to a nineteenth century book written by a Irish author, though this time without the attendant difficulties regarding copyright. He took two stories from J. Sheridan Le Fanu’s collection In a Glass Darkly: “Carmilla,” which is regarded as introducing the lesbian vampire concept we all know and love, and “The Room in the Dragon Volant,” about that very nineteenth century fear of an accidental burial. He combined elements of both stories to create a new one: Vampyr.
On the whole, nothing in the plot of the film is particularly noteworthy or original. Allan Gray, a student of the occult who resembles a marginally better looking H.P. Lovecraft, arrives in Courtempierre and encounters mysterious happenings in the village. A strange death, wasting illnesses accompanied by bites marks on the neck, the usual. Our student of the occult apparently failed to learn about vampirism, although a very convenient book is on hand for him to consult.
What distinguishes the film from its sundry material is Dreyer’s impressive direction. It’s a sound film, but dialogue is minimal and he makes extensive use of intertitles to fill gaps and set scenes. It’s shot in soft focus, accomplished here by placing gauze in front of the lense. Combined with the subject matter, it creates a dreamlike atmosphere where everything feels slightly unnerving. The unreal effect achieved is not unlike the film’s liminal place between the silent and sound eras.
Naturally, critics at the time of its release hated it, and Dreyer wouldn’t release another feature film until 1943 with Day of Wrath. Vampyr has been reappraised since then as being as great as any other of Dreyer’s mature work and is worth seeing.
Joan of Arc is still better, though.
October 22, 2018
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