Strasek, der Vampir

"Nothing much happens" and "hypnotic quality" would be far too generous. The first two thirds of this film are mind-numbingly tedious. Plot points throughout are unexplained. There's no significant character development, no characters to care a rat's rear end about. A few nice scenic shots are the only plus to this piece of drek. It's in black and white, but the few moments of minor tension lead to... nothing. With almost every camera shot static, you continually hope that something or someone will move within the field of view -- it rarely does -- or that something of import will be said. Hope in vain.

The set up: young adult left alone, in a nominally vampiric film, could have been something... drama, comedy, political statement, poignant slice-of-life, anything. It isn't.

I've watched (along with more mainstream fare) art films from Jodorowsky to Greenaway to Majewski's "Glass Lips", and dozens of French vignettes. "Strasek" is directed by a photographer, but except for the scenery it isn't art. Think, if you will, of the very worst efforts of Troma or John Waters (whose better efforts are worthwhile) or Chris Seaver, but minus the gore and sex... it's that pointless. Was the acting in Strasek that bad (you ask)? I can't say, because there wasn't enough acting to matter!

For point of reference, my average movie rating on IMDB is about 6.5.

This is madness! For 30 years of my 40-odd years of life, I've been immersed in horror cinema and literature. I have dedicated corners in my home and even mentions of my love for horror in my social media profiles, yet I only discovered this film today... Despite it being dedicated to Carl Theodor Dreyer, no less.

The cinematography is styled to mimic the overexposed film stock used for Dreyer's masterpiece. It begins with a narrator stating his conviction that Stefan Strasek is alive. The narrator went to Serbia in 1910 to do research and learned that Stefan had moved... and events unfold.

Stefan's mother, Milena, met and married Count Strasek in 1898. The marriage lasted only a few months; the Count left when she gave birth to Stefan. He vanished, but a messenger regularly arrived with money for him. What I noticed about the shooting style here was that we were locked into a static camera, looking at a very limited set, as though it were a painting that the character was merely moving within (and sometimes remaining still). It was an interesting directorial choice. Indeed, the cinematography was very well done throughout the film.

The film jumps forward in time but doesn't give us a timeframe. Despite having "Vampire" in the title, we don't see a vampire. The cinematography is reminiscent of Dreyer, but as an older character, Stefan reminded me most of Cesare from "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari." There are also moments that recall "Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens" for the viewer, especially when he's sleeping as an adult and as a child climbing the attic stairs and when his mother is on her deathbed. The acting, as with Dreyer, relies on the actors looking the part rather than reflecting the personalities of their characters.

Despite being a film made in 1982, it hasn't been watched much. From what I've seen in Letterboxd and IMDb reviews, the few people who have seen it haven't understood it at all, their brains being accustomed to the Hollywood narrative.

I hope an organization/foundation or at least the European Union restores this film and its value is recognized.

Odd, strange and yet fascinating little film, about the destiny of a boy called Stefan Strasek, the product of an ill-fated marriage that ended with the separation of his parents. When dying, the mother asks little Stefan not to allow his father to take him with him, and the boy keeps his promise, to the most drastic consequences.

Dedicated to Carl Th. Dreyer, it has the eerie tone of the maestro's "Vampyr", but also of Herzog's "Nosferatu, Phantom der Nacht", without entering the mythical world of vampires, which operates more as a metaphor. However, the film does not give up creating atmospheres, sonorities and visual compositions typical of horror films.

Directed, photographed and edited with a disarming parsimony, this early example of what we would later call the observational film, looks but does not judge, shows but does not emphasize, and leaves the reading open to the multiple gazes of the spectators.