The more English Literature courses I take, the more it enhances as well as wrecks my vision. Taught now to automatically see beneath the surface while following the story, the details are sometimes too much to bear.
I’m sure I’ve seen The Kiss of the Vampire before, but I must say that the new enlightened me, the more consciously aware me, didn’t enjoy it much this time around. Yes, the 60s films were pretty hokey, and this one was typical; the head vampire of the clutch looked rather insipid rather than sexy as he gazed into the eyes of his victim, the beautiful blond young newlywed stolen from her bridegroom’s side at a drunken party. But now that I am clever enough to also consider the history of the time in which the film was made, I am dismayed to be noticing the pert and perky Barbi-boobs that remain so even in a supine position, and the sprayed and teased bouffant hair that isn’t prey to bed-head. Really puts a cramp in the enjoyment of the movie.
Of course we were aware that this wasn’t reality even back then when we watched these movies on the big screen, but it was the norm of our fantasy lives, and so it was accepted. Somehow, I wonder if the new reality trend in entertainment is what we really, really want.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology