Dracula 2020 – the BBC and Netflix Series

The BBC miniseries – actually trilogy – that debuted on Netflix this January is a worthy retelling of the classic Bram Stoker gothic novel for a myriad of reasons. Without going into actual spoilers, it is possible – and my intention – to examine this “nth” reiteration of one of the best loved and most disturbing stories that set the standard for gothic tales, looking for unique contributions it makes to the vast output of Dracula cinema.

Like all movie versions of Bram Stoker’s gothic novel, from the 1931 Bela Lugosi Universal Studios classic to the nearly one hundred motion picture versions, it derives its story from the original novel, while taking liberties to satisfy the filmmakers’ urge for creativity or to express poetic license or merely to lay a claim to some elements of originality. The trick has been – and many have succeeded at it – to stay true to the core elements of Bram Stoker’s book while paying respect to the character that Bela Lugosi created without being imitative to the point of caricature. To do otherwise – and some have done so – is to invite scorn, ridicule and failure. This involves walking a tightrope between the book’s portrayal of a demonic cadaver dwelling in a coffin in Transylvania and Lugosi’s suave, Central European aristocrat. The Netflix series succeeds at this.

A praiseworthy feature of this trilogy is that it honors Bram Stoker’s format of retelling the story in “epistolary” form, i.e. in broken-up narratives derived from diaries, letters, ship‘s log, memoranda and the like, but it does so in cinematic form.
The first episode “Rules of the Beast” provides an utterly dismal yet fascinating narrative of poor Jonathan Harker’s encounter, imprisonment, victimization and eventual destruction by Dracula. A sort of connecting thread, or recurring character introduced is that of a fly, whose unpleasant presence appears again and again – on window panes, on people, and – most disturbingly – on Harker’s eye as he is being interviewed by a Catholic nun named Van Helsing, who will prove to be Dracula’s nemesis and situational companion. Elements of Catholicism have always been a part of the Dracula story, and this trilogy is true to the tradition. Also introduced is Harker’s fiancée, Mina, who – as in the book and the countless retellings – becomes a particular target for Dracula’s bloodlust. Harker’s character – an undead victim of Dracula’s contagion- lays out the prototype for the state of being undead in a way that is uniquely explicit in this series.

This first episode goes a long way to creating an expansion of the Dracula world by way of introducing a whole population of box-contained “undead” in varying degrees of decomposition – begging for release. Thus the zombie trope is added to the vampire story, while intersecting with the terrible predicament of premature burial, popularized in writings of Poe. In so doing, the series has contributed another dimension to the lore of vampirism.

Yet another contribution that this series makes is to expound the effecting in which Dracula’s drinking of blood results in his absorbing the knowledge, experience and – if he chooses – personal qualities of his victims, something not included in other Dracula tales. I.e. he learns to act like a fine Englishman by drinking Harker’s blood. Thus, the subtitle “Blood is Lives.”
The second episode, “Blood Vessel,” tells a previously unexplored story of Dracula’s voyage on the sailing ship the Demeter to be transported from Transylvania to England along with a coffin containing his native soil, an essential ingredient in the folklore of vampires. Most other stories have skipped over this period, simply reporting the mysterious deaths of the crew at the end of the ship’s passage. In this second entry in the trilogy, the ending of the passage is quite different and unique. No spoilers will be disclosed here.

Without apologies or detailed explanation, it can be reported that the third episode, “Dark Compass,” brings Dracula – and a niece of Sister Van Helsing – into the 21st Century. There and then he pursues the fearless-of-death Lucy Westenra, as in previous retellings. As disconcerting as it might seem to purists, the 21st Century action works to expound much about the icon that may have been overlooked. He is explained to be a hedonist – whose pursuit of immortality has been in order to prolong his pleasures and epicurean delights is expressed and explained quite explicitly. He longs to see the sun after centuries of avoiding it. He has (irrational?) fears of the cross and of light and – above all – death, an obsessive fear he shares with most of mankind. And he has been – ironically and paradoxically ¬– shackled, for ages, by the superstitious peasant folklore which he has imbibed from countless Transylvanian victims, at least some of which proves to be totally false.

The series succeeds because it meets fans’ desires to see consistency and continuity with the essential features contained in the book and the classic cinema, elaborating them creatively and adding interesting tangential elements without detracting from the traditional and venerated story.

Peter Murphy

Jan 20, 2020
Le Poisson Rouge

Goth rock icon Peter Murphy reprised his famed residency at Manhattan’s Le Poisson Rouge on Monday, January 20, picking up the thread with a “Greatest Hits” night that ran a little over an hour and half, performing 17 songs from his vast repertoire.

Peter Murphy on stage at Le Poisson Rouge

First up was a torch singer, Vinsantos,
self-described “New Orleans-based
Drag Musician, Performance Artist and Queer Witch,” with a remarkable voice, a creative keyboard style and over-the-top drag-queen costume and make-up.

Peter Murphy came on around 9 p.m. and opened with an extended, electronically-enhanced and slightly discordant version of “Cascade” off the album of the same name – his fifth studio album and thus legitimately considered to be the epochal mid-point of his solo career. He then went on to “All Night Long,” with its unmistakable introductory, persistent wooden xylophone riff, from his second album, “Love Hysteria.”

He continued with “Marlene Dietrich’s Favorite Poem” and then a funky, almost unrecognizable version of “Deep Ocean Vast Sea” both from the third album Deep (1989). Then it was on into the Holy Smoke (1992) album for “The Sweetest Drop.”
“Lion,” from his last album of the same name isn’t heard very often. That album was the only one passed over during the August residency. It was followed by the much more popular “Socrates the Python,” with its undulant, leisurely pace and mysterious mantra, “Bennett, Gurdjieff, Jesus.”

The eight song – the halfway point in the set – “Gaslit” is from the Secret Bees, an EP that was a spin-off of – but not included in – the Ninth album (2011). Next came the much loved ”The Prince and Old Lady Shade” which was, however, included in Ninth.
Peter continued his well-established practice of joshing with the audience during several noteworthy exchanges. Early on he assured the crowd that he was “definitely NOT an icon,” while implicitly assuming the role of icon. There’s common and frequent speculation regarding just how big this “icon’s” ego is, and he teased a bit when he expressed the opinion that “these lyrics are brilliant” in reference to, I believe it was “Deep Oceans.”

Whether it was intentional or thoughtless, Peter let the microphone stand far away from his mouth during talks with the audience, rendering much of the patter inaudible to all but the front two or three rows of spectators. When heckled about it by farther away audience members – those unable to hear what he was saying – he continued speaking in low, intimate tones that perhaps only the closest five or ten people could hear. The heckling continued but to no avail.

“Subway” from Cascade was a most welcome return to Peter’s beloved, melodious oeuvre and was sung in a faithful-to-the-original style.This was followed by “Disappearing” from he same album and “A Strange Kind of Love” from Deep. “His Circle Meets Hers” and the raucous “Low Room” drew up to the final song of the main set, his all-time favorite and most requested song, “Cuts You Up.”

After a short break he returned with the lullaby, “Huuvola,” accompanied by his silver-voiced daughter, Hurihan. The concluding song of the night was “Hangup” from Lion, during which he repeatedly implored the listener to “hang up the phone! ” while echoing the name of Turkey’s most famous ancient edifice, the magnificent cathedral-museum “Hagia Sofia.”

This night was billed a night of “Greatest Hits,” but I would prefer to see it as Peter Murphy’s own personal favorites. Entries from Lion and “Secret Bees of the Ninth” hardly qualify as having “Greatest Hits” status among fans in terms of sales or requests. But they might have special meaning to Peter himself. For those fans who love the melodious, rhythmic selections like “Indigo Eyes” and “Hit Song” this set was a disappointment, since the emphasis was on funky, discordant, Bauhaus-like dissonance – not only the songs chosen, but in the manner of delivery ¬– of even the most romantic selections in the set. A
He had a cold to start off with, and all the chatter in which he engaged revealed that his voice had become quite hoarse and gravelly. His singing however, suffered little if at all, and his commitment to putting maximum effort into every note continues to be fulfilled, even after having suffered a heart attack late last year during the residency that he is now completing.

Wozzeck

We attended a “live-from-the-Met” cinematic broadcast of the much acclaimed Metropolitan Opera production of Wozzeck with music and libretto by Alban Berg on January 11. It was also scheduled to be repeated in local theaters that carry such events on January 16. It is an extraordinary operatic work by one of the most modern of 20th century composers, famed representative of the “Second Viennese School” an early 20th century musical movement noted for atonality with elements of late Romantic Influence. Think: Beethoven off-key.

It is based on a play that was itself based upon real life events that took place in 1821 and were publicized when a despondent and exploited war veteran, (real name Woyzeck) murdered his unfaithful girlfriend and was executed, leaving their child orphaned. In Berg’s opera, Wozzeck dies by drowning himself as he seeks to flee accusations and to destroy evidence.

This woeful mess is rendered dismal and pitiful not just by way of the lyrics and the somber music, but by an hallucinatory production by South African animation-film artist William Kentridge. The dismal and apocalyptic sets and scenery are continuously worked, enhanced, altered and heightened by projected images of loosely drawn, illustrations and suggestive figures, usually but not only black and white – sometimes still and sometimes animated. At times the projected image creates the entire backdrop as, e.g. a cityscape. Other times it takes the form of a screen or an ever-changing poster. The effect is phantasmagorical.

One advantage of the live-from-the-Met, HD transmitted version, is that the viewer benefits from camera cinematography that zooms in on singers and follows action when appropriate.

Even if one has not had the opportunity to see this spectacular production either live or in cinema, it would be well to take note of the elements contained in this report and to keep an eye and an ear open for other works by these gifted artists for future reference.

New Dark Age – Nov 2019

Dia de Muertos – Day of the Dead

Nov 1-2, 2019

This year we decided to do something really special for Halloween. Well, let’s just say for the Halloween season. Because the Mexican Dia de Muertos – Day of the Dead – is a distinctly different holiday that occurs right on the tail end of Halloween — extending from Nov 1 through Nov 2.

One day is dedicated to remembrance of departed children, and the other is for deceased adults, usually ancestors. It traces its origins to the Mesoamerican, indigenous holiday, when Aztecs and other Nahua people celebrated this feast honoring the dead as far back as one or two thousand years ago. As with so many pagan traditions, it became appropriated by the Roman Catholic colonization by Spain, i.e., it was made to coincide with All Saints Day, celebrated by Catholics around the world. Now it is a national, public holiday in Mexico.

Dia de Muertos is not to be confused with Halloween although distinctions have blurred in recent years. Day of the Dead is celebrated with colorful remembrance and displays of fearless love for departed relatives, whereas Halloween is a dark, macabre event evoking horror and mischief. The ubiquitous displays of skulls and skeletons – however joyfully presented – has created a false convergence of the two holidays in the minds of many observers, and not just those north of the border.

Even some Mexican celebrants don zombie attire and makeup that more reflect the latter rather than the former. Mexican children have incorporated trick-or-treating on Halloween that continues through the next two says of Dia de Muertos.