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The Watching Hour Preview (and Review): Near Dark

The Watching Hour is a weekly film series at the Starz Film Center, highlighting new and old cult, genre, or otherwise bizarro movies. Quite simply, The Watching Hour is usually the best thing to do in Denver on a Friday or Saturday night. From Giallo to schlock, Blaxploitation to Aussiesploitation, zombies to martial arts to who-knows-what, and everywhere in between. This is good ol’ rock and roll cinema spectacle. Not to be missed. (See the schedule, buy tickets, get directions, etc. here.) Up this week is Near Dark, one of my very favorite movies. Just writing this review gave me the itch to see it again as soon as possible...

Chances are, if you’ve heard of Near Dark, you know it by its hook: a ‘vampire western.’ Which is too bad, because though it certainly is that, it’s not just that. As much as this is a vampire movie or a non-traditional western, it is an 80s movie through and through, and I mean that as the highest possible complement. Because ‘vampire western’ doesn’t tip you off to the perfectly ill-fitting soundtrack by Tangerine Dream or the ensemble cast of bit players from every 80s movie you’ve ever seen. Near Dark is probably my favorite vampire movie. And it is one of the most perfectly distilled visions of what’s great about 80s action and horror cinema. What’s more, the whole is even better than the sum of these parts.

If there is a divisive stretch of Near Dark, it’s the first 30 minutes. Fellow Movie Advocate Justin Couch thinks the first 30 minutes of the movie aren't so hot. I respectfully disagree, but I get where he’s coming from. The movie’s first act is pure teen melodrama, but, you know, with vampires. This should sound like a familiar conceit to anyone who hasn’t been living in a cave for the last few years, but despite superficial similarities with Twilight or Harry Potter, Near Dark’s opening works for a couple reasons. Sure, it uses vampirism as a metaphor for youth subculture and drug use, but director Kathryn Bigelow doesn’t beat you over the head with it. It’s just…there, if you want to think about the subtext that way. Rather than allowing the characters to talk about how great it is to be a vampire, the amorphic ambient tones provided by Tangerine Dream and the syrupy, humid darkness of Adam Greenburg's cinematography make you feel the allure of being this kind of vampire. It’s not the sexy allure of classic vampires, but something more punk or communal. The Near Dark vampires aren’t sexy seducers; they’re the ‘alternative lifestyle’ street trash kids your parents didn’t want you hanging out with when you were in high school. Though Justin will hurt me for writing this, I think Near Dark succeeds in this respect head and shoulders above The Lost Boys.

But the most important reason I’m willing to accept Near Dark’s first act is that the rest of the movie is so flippin' badass. Though the focus near the start is squarely on Caleb (Adrian Pasdar) and his vampire ‘special lady,’ Mae (Jenny Wright), as the movie progresses we spend more time getting to know the entire vampire ‘family.’ The casting of the family is pitch perfect. For starters, Bigelow plops half the cast of Aliens right into her movie. Yes, she had James Cameron’s permission – they were dating then if I’m not mistaken. It must have been a great time for Bill Paxton, Lance Hendriksen, and Jenette Goldstein, going straight from Aliens to this. That sort of ensemble troop mentality doesn't happen that often, and its worth noticing and celebrating when it does.

If that wasn't good enough, the cherry on top is preteen Joshua Miller of Teen Witch fame, the ultimate 80s little brother, as Homer. The twist is that he's the oldest vampire of the group, but he's stuck in the child's body he had when he was first bitten. Like, woah! All kidding aside, this group does a fantastic job. They don't show or tell their history, but rather suggest their shared and storied past through their actions, subtle gestures, and passing remarks.

It's amazing that the same movie captures so well not only the gory intensity and cool of 80s horror but also the blurry half-remembered feel of a fever dream. Near Dark plays out like one of those long, crazy, strung-out nights that never seems to end. If fits comfortably in the pantheon of movies about good kids on a bender with the likes of Dazed and Confused and Whip It. Every scene with Caleb's dad and sister seems ripped out of another, more mundane movie, accentuating the schism between Caleb's humble past and the mad, upside-down world of his new vampire crew. There's something wonderful about how Caleb's dad (Tim Thomerson) stoically addresses the situation as if his son has fallen in with a 'bad crowd,' even after he finds out they're vampires. He loves his son, and trusts him enough to let him pick himself up from his own mistakes. By contrast, Jesse, Severen, and the vamps can't leave well enough alone, and after all is said and done, their meddlesome-ness comes off as crazed desperation. They may have the cool sunglasses and big hair, but there's quiet dignity in being a cowpoke.

Magic Moment: If Near Dark were a famous movie, it would be most famous for the bar scene toward the movie's halfway mark. All the stars align – whether because of Kathryn Bigelow's professional planning and direction or rather despite the lack of experience in this young crew – to make the scene the insane centerpiece of the movie, and one for the horror history books. Our vampire pals crash a redneck bar, and as the situation grows more and more dire for the human victims, the hits on the jukebox just keep rolling on. This disconnect between sound and situation is twisted and menacing. Not to be outdone, Bill Paxton turns his mega-acting up to eleven, giving the best single scene performance in his career. That's right, Paxton is better in this scene than in any single Hudson scene in Aliens, even though the latter might be the better character. “Finger lickin' good!”

-Ben