"I shouldn't have friends, even for the sexy stuff."
Because there's nothing supernatural about Martin, whatever his elderly cousin, mind addled by religious conservatism and obsession with the supposed family history of vampirism. And yet... this is a self fulfilling prophecy. The disturbed Martin thinks he's a vampire, so he is.
His attacks are horrifying to watch. He doesn't wish to kill his victims, only to drink some blood, but his frenzies have the visual grammar of sexual assault. And the whole look and texture of the film adds to the sense of the disturbed. Low budget, hand held camerawork, naturalistic acting- for what is ostensibly a horror film this is full of realism.... except those monochrome dream sequences from the point of view of Martin's mind,which play with vampite iconography in clever ways.
Of course, the film ends in tragedy. Martin finds human connection in the form of sex, but the lady in question is depressed. She slits her wrists in the bath, and Martin's own elderly cousin blames and kills him. Martin may be disturbed, but is he not a victim too? A victim of backward superstition? And is his elderly cousin, and the old stupidities he represents, the true monster?
A cheap film, yes, but an engrossing and important one. Note to self: watch more Romero...
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