The DVD company known as Casa Negra has managed to impress me yet again. Specializing in Mexican horror films of the classic era of 1956-'65, this outfit had previously wowed me with great-looking, extras-packed DVDs of such wonderful films as "The Brainiac," "The Witch's Mirror," "The Man and the Monster," and especially "The Black Pit of Dr. M" and "The Curse of the Crying Woman" (I personally deem that last one a horror masterpiece). And now, "The Vampire," which was originally released in 1957 under the title "El Vampiro"...and a good thing, I suppose, as there seems to have been a little-seen American film called "The Vampire" released that same year. "El Vampiro" was directed by Fernando Mendez, who had previously made a mark on Mexican audiences with his 1956 horror picture "Body Thief," so much so that producer Abel Salazar hired him to helm his film the following year. As the story goes, Salazar was trying to figure out why Universal Studios in America was so profitable, and the answer suddenly dawned on him: monster movies! And so, "El Vampiro" was born, a film that has since been described as "Dracula on a hacienda"!In the film, pretty Marta Gonzalez (Ariadna Welter) experiences a tough homecoming to her childhood abode, Sicomoros. Her Aunt Maria has just died and been entombed, while talk of a pillaging local vampire sweeps through the nearby town of Sierra Negra. To make matters worse, Marta soon realizes that her Aunt Eloisa (Cuban actress Carmen Montejo) does not do so well at reflecting in a mirror herself, and their neighbor, the caped Count Duval (Spanish émigré German Robles), is making pestiferous offers to purchase Sicomoros for his own mysterious ends. Fortunately for Marta, a kindly stranger, Dr. Enrique (Salazar, who would go on to star in "The Brainiac" and "...Crying Woman"), has accompanied her from the train station, as Marta will need all the help she can get after she realizes that Duval is in actuality...the dreaded nocturnal neck nosher himself....True to its Universal inspiration, "El Vampiro" presents us with vampires very much in the traditional, uh, vein. Thus, they are able to turn into bats, do not reflect in mirrors, are able to pop in and out of any location, can hypnotize from afar, communicate with each other telepathically, suffer from what I suppose you might call crucifixaphobia, sport long canine teeth, can be killed by a stake through the heart, sleep all day in their dirt-filled coffins...and must suck the blood from the living, natch, claiming victims as their own after two bites. The film, though never especially frightening, yet manages to offer at least three quite startling scenes. In one, Duval becomes a bat and flies straight at the throat of a screaming little boy; in another, Marta opens the door to her long-disused childhood bedroom and sees what appears to be the ghost of her dead Aunt Maria; and finally, in the film's exciting conclusion, Enrique and Duval face off, while the unconscious Marta is threatened by a blazing inferno. And if the special FX in the film are a bit weak as compared to Universal's monster pictures (especially the vampire-to-bat transformations), they are still endearingly so. Perhaps the two best elements of the film, aside from some solid acting by all and a no-nonsense story line, are the remarkable sets by Gunther Gerszo and the stunning B&W photography of Rosalio Solano. This film looks fantastic! Other than Italian director Mario Bava, I can think of no other filmmakers who have given us such convincingly decrepit and molderingly morbid crypts and sets as the Mexicans of this classic period. Filmed utilizing deep-focus long shots, the sets here of interior courtyards, tombs and woods are things of genuine beauty. And just get a load of the mists that seem to be perpetually hanging in the air; not swirling mists, as might be expected, but layers of stationary streamers that just seem to hover motionlessly in the atmosphere. These mists are easily the film's single best effect. I cannot figure out HOW the filmmakers managed to bring these amazing images off, but these mists, added to those remarkable sets, go a long way in engendering a nicely creepy miasma; a most suitable backdrop for our two impressive-looking undead.I have read that Abel Salazar has been criticized for being a "weak hero" in this film, and truth to tell, his character DOES indeed seem scared when dueling with the vampire near the conclusion (Enrique uses a torch; Duval, a sword!). But you know what? His understandable fright only makes him come off as more realistic, more appealing. I have always enjoyed Salazar's ingratiating screen presence, and find him to be perfectly acceptable here. In "El Vampiro"'s sequel, 1958's "The Vampire's Coffin" (a sequel that started shooting even before the original film was released!), Salazar returns as Dr. Enrique, and in that latter film, he might easily be accused of making some questionable moves. But not here. The bottom line is that "El Vampiro," if not as solid an effort as "Black Pit..." or "...Crying Woman," remains a very fine horror picture that should manage to impress genre fans almost six decades after its release. And need I even mention all the wonderful extras on this Casa Negra DVD? The photo essay on Mexican horror films alone is worth the price of admission....

Casa Negra sure blessed Gothic horror fans with some very atmospheric offerings including Fernando Méndez's ambitious, Universal Studio's flavored Mexican horror classic, El Vampiro, a film which certainly wears it's Dracula inspirations for all to see.The story isn't that difficult or original regarding a vampire's desire to gain control of an age-ravaged(..and sadly neglected due to a lack of hired help who moved off in fear of being vampire victims) hacienda needing the proper ownership in the possession of Marta(Ariadna Welter), a visiting relative from afar called at the behest of her sick aunt, María(Alicia Montoya, wonderfully made up to look completely bonkers, hair frazzled and grey-streaked, face wrinkled and worn, cross with an emblem of a crucified Christ held tight to her chest). María supposedly died before Marta was able to arrive, but the situation is not as it seems. Marta would get off her train and discover that a method of transportation to her destination was remote at best, befriending a kindly traveler, Dr. Enrique(Abel Salazar)who would join her in a trip to the desolate hacienda, finding it practically abandoned and cob-webbed. We later find that Enrique was called by Marta's uncle, Emilio(José Luis Jiménez)to see if María was in fact loony, or if her ravings about a vampire was true. Aunt Eloisa(Carmen Montejo)is in league with vampire, Count Karol de Lavud(..who has taken the alias, Duval, Lavud spelled backwards, perhaps echoing SON OF Dracula, when Lon Chaney Jr's vampire took the name of Alucard)who wishes to own the hacienda and assists in keeping an eye on Enrique, attempting to persuade Marta to sell off her portion of the place, given to her by María after her moment of death. Count de Lavud plans to resurrect his fallen brother, desiring to join forces to drain the blood of all the living across the country-side. Will Enrique and Emilio discover de Lavud and Eloisa's dastardly plans? Or, will this fanged duo of evil conquer the hacienda, having a place of refuge after blood-sucking innocents who live nearby? Germán Robles is effectively cast as a handsome Count, very much in the Lugosi tradition, except he has sharpened fangs and is often shown burying them into necks, including a ferocious attack on a peasant boy walking home in the wilderness. The hacienda is an ideal setting, perfectly morbid and decaying, with a marvelous mausoleum, and the usual secret room hiding María away from those who wish to gain control of her home. Some of the low-budget effects, stringed bats, objects lifted invisibly in a mirror(..Marta is looking into which is where Eloisa is supposed to be standing),scenes where the vampires appear and disappear, are a bit hit-or-miss, but director Fernando Méndez understands how to create decadent locations for his vampires, bathing them in shadows. And, even though the strings are apparent, I love his ideas for having the bats flying towards the balcony of a bedroom, entering the place of rest for a potential victim. And, Robles has the right amount of menace and quiet evil needed to properly present a cunning and cruel vampire. All the film really needed was a charismatic and worthy adversary and unfortunately Salazar is too much the charming, romantic type..more of a Harker character than a Van Helsing.

Another film I have watched as part of my Halloween marathon was EL VAMPIRO/THE VAMPIRE (1957), recently released by Mondo Macabro on R0 (PAL) DVD. As I have already written in an earlier post in this thread, I was not familiar with this title outside of Carlos Clarens' book on horror movies; the very positive 'Monsters At Play' online review, then, was the factor which drove me to purchase it - and I am glad I did!Perhaps the most influential aspect of the film is that it presents us with what is probably the screen's first fanged vampire. I have no idea whether anyone at Hammer had watched this prior to making Dracula (1958) - Terence Fisher certainly said he deliberately avoided watching the Browning/Lugosi version so as not to let himself be influenced by it - but it's rather regrettable that the later film is given all the credit for it, when it is clearly not the case.As a matter of fact, EL VAMPIRO was a bit like the bridge which lead the genre away from the Universal style and towards Hammer horror - the look of the film was certainly inspired by the former but here we have no cutaways during vital moments (one attack by the vampire on a small boy [!] is particularly vicious), while the busy climax (a' la Hammer's Dracula) only disappoints because Count Lavud is dispatched in the conventional manner typified by the Universal films!The plot of the film offers no surprises and even incorporates a Poe-inspired subplot, involving a premature burial, for good measure. The special effects (the vampire turning into a bat or materializing out of nowhere, only to vanish into thin air again) are well done in spite of the modest budget, providing a few undeniably effective frissons. Despite its deliberate pace (not unusual with horror films dependent on atmosphere), the film is never boring; in fact, it is quite a treat. German Robles cuts a dashing figure (much like Christopher Lee, as opposed to the likes of Max Schreck or even Lugosi) but is appropriately menacing when the moment calls for it. He makes a perfect vampire count, though his screen-time is relatively brief; producer/actor Abel Salazar (a bumbling Van Helsing-type role) is no Cushing, however, but the film does not really suffer for it. The ladies are decorative if nothing more and, thankfully, very little footage is devoted to frightened villagers or sinister-looking acolytes. If I had to classify the film in comparison to other vampire movies, I would say that EL VAMPIRO is just a few notches below the 1931 Spanish Dracula (which is appropriate as it's the one I was most reminded of when watching it).The film's presentation on DVD is unfortunately less-than-stellar: there is a constant hiss on the soundtrack which can become annoying and the print, while far from pristine, is certainly watchable; the 22-minute Documentary on Mexican horror films was quite interesting, although I suspect few of the films mentioned are really worth looking into apart from curiosity value (THE BRAINIAC, anyone?); the film's sequel, THE VAMPIRE'S COFFIN (1958) - presented in the form of a photonovel (a nice touch) - looks a bit contrived but is, perhaps, a reasonably adequate follow-up to the original.The other Mondo Macabro titles on DVD are even more obscure: ALUCARDA (1975), at least, looks intriguing - reminiscent of Alejandro Jodorowsky's work (it was in fact directed by Juan Lopez Moctezuma, producer of FANDO & LIS and EL TOPO) which, in view of the adult nature of the film, would probably not go past the local censors (!); AWAKENING OF THE BEAST (1970) - one of the 'Coffin Joe' films; BLOOD OF THE VIRGINS (1967); and DR. JEKYLL VERSUS THE WEREWOLF (1972) - one of the 'Waldemar Daninsky' films written by and starring Paul Naschy.

I had heard a lot about this Mexican horror classic and cult film by Fernando Méndez: that it was a remarkable B&W production, that it established the vampire genre in México, that it was the first movie in which the vampire had fangs and –most of all- that it was intentionally funny in parts. I had seen its sequel, "El ataúd del vampiro" (The Vampire's Coffin) when I was 8 years old, of which I have a vague memory. Now, after 47 years of its release, I've finally seen "El vampiro" and to my surprise it is better than what I expected. Producer Abel Salazar knew what he was getting into –as probably did Luis Buñuel when he made "Abismos de pasión", adapting Emily Brontë's "Wuthering Heights"- and decided not only to approach the tale of an Hungarian vampire in México with humor, but to play the leading part of the doctor with comic touches, as a cynic and fearful hero. Beautiful Ariadne Welter (Tyrone Power's once sister-in-law, sometimes credited as Ariadna) is the young heroine who returns to her family hacienda in Sierra Negra (Black Sierra) and meets Salazar on her way, while they are followed by her aunt (Cuban soap opera superstar Carmen Montejo), a spinster under the spell of Count Duval (Germán Robles), the local vampire. The initial situation reminded me of the Hammer Films production "Kiss of the Vampire", which was made a few years later: a young woman being observed and chosen to be part of the undead, though in this case the open setting is darker and in obvious decay. What was surprising to me was the plot's twists, which seem quite original for its time and probably not yet equaled, mainly the introduction of a woman buried alive (Alicia Montoya) –whose appearance predates Myrna Fahey in Roger Corman's "The Fall of the House of Usher"- who protects the heroine and has a decidedly active part in the conclusion. Although screenwriter Ramón Obón takes many elements from Bram Stoker's classic novel, he introduces clever touches, immensely helped by Rosalío Solano's cinematography, Gustavo César Carrión's eerie score and Méndez' firm direction. As a research, it's also interesting to see another movie by Méndez, "Ladrón de cadáveres", which paved the way for a unique Mexican cross of genres: the wrestler and horror films.