Reviewed by Doug Gibson

In Gary Rhodes’ new book, “Vampires in Silent Cinema,” (Edinburgh University Press, 2023), the author cites a “non-fiction” article in the June 15, 1732 issue of The American Weekly Mercury periodical. In Hungary, it was claimed, “certain Dead Bodies (called here Vampyres) killed several persons by sucking out all their blood.”

As Rhodes notes, more than sensationalistic press caused the public to be intrigued by vampires. There were novels such as “The Vampyre: A Tale,” and plays like “The Phantom.” Both involved bloodsuckers menacing the innocent. They were among the preludes to Bram Stoker’s classic novel, “Dracula,” which arrived just before the twentieth century.

It took a while for silent cinema to embrace what we consider the traditional vampire today, Max Schreck, Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee. Rhodes writes, “… vampire-hunting historians have at times perceived the undead in films where they do not reside …”

The average film viewer may regard “Dracula” as the first vampire film. A more sophisticated viewer may tab “Nosferatu” as the first. It was actually a very obscure, lost 1915 Russian film called “The Afterlife Wanderer.” Olga Baclanova, who kind of played a “vamp” in “Freaks,” starred in the film. The film was banned in one city. What percentage of the population knows this; a tenth of a tenth of a percent?

Silent cinema remains a very fertile ground for unearthing original scholarship. Recently, Rhodes and co-author Bill Kaffenberger, with the “Becoming Dracula” books, unearthed original information on Bela Lugosi. There’s much of the same original research in “Vampires in Silent Cinema.”

The earliest “vampire” silent films weren’t really vampire films. Characters in films might dance in a gothic, mysterious way, arousing interest and suggestions of the undead. But only the obscure “Loie Fuller,” 1905, has what is described as a “vampire dance,” says Rhodes. In the early years of the 20th century, “vampire dances” were popular attractions. As Rhodes notes, a 1912 film, “The Vampire Dancer,” (English title), shows the title character mimicking biting an unfortunate suitor’s neck.

The next wave of silent “vampire” films involved “vamps,” a term still in existence. An extension of the vampire dancer, a vamp is an evil woman who, through her passion and charms, manages to destroy the soul and physical health of an unwise, unwary man. Theda Bara personified a vamp during the silent era with films such as, “A Fool There Was.” The vamp’s genesis derived in part from Rudyard Kipling’s poem, “The Vampire,” and artist Philip Burne-Jones oft-revised painting, The Vampire,” which shows a beautiful, dark-haired woman, pale white, ravishing a defenseless man. Films and stages boasted healthy, voluptious woman feasting on men’s souls. As Rhodes writes, the woman vamp, or vampire had been a staple of 19th century literature, including in a Sherlock Holmes novel. And some vamps loved blood. Rhodes includes a snippet from the 1833 poem, “The Vampire Bride,” by Henry Liddell:

He lay like a corse (sic) ‘neath the Demon’s force,

And she wrapp’d him in a shroud;

And she fixed her teeth his heart beneath,

And she drank of the warm life-blood.

Eventually, Rhodes writes, there were films of “He-vamps,” or men destroying the souls and virtue of women. The vamp persona remains today, but by the 1920s it was more often used in comedy or satire. Bara herself made some films where she spoofed her vamp image.

The word vampire was also used to depict a criminal. Rhodes devotes a chapter to films that advertised the vampire as mesmerizer who leads others to crime. Examples include an early Universal film, “Vasco the Vampire,” 1914, with a Svengali-like villain leading children to crime. The 1915 serial “The Exploits of Elaine,” has a chapter called “The Vampire,” in which the villain tries to drain the blood of the heroine to save a confederate,” notes Rhodes.

Rhodes describes a 1916 serial, “The Mysteries of Myra,” as a precursor to bringing the supernatural to film screens. It is a virtual monster rally, with chapters devoted to battling supernatural adversaries every week. Chapter titles include The Mystic Mirrors, The Hypnotic Clue, Invisible Destroyer, Witchcraft, and Suspended Animation. In “The Mysteries of Myra,” notes Rhodes, there is a character called “The Vampire Woman.” (But) “she drinks no blood. She is not undead, but is very much alive,” writes Rhodes. He adds that she is a vamp-type character, but surrounded by supernatutural events. However, in 1919’s “Lilith and Ly,” a woman materializes from a statue. She later seeks blood, Rhodes adds.

With relationship to Bram Stoker’s “Dracula,” Rhodes devotes chapters to the lost Hungarian film, “Drakula Halala,” 1921, and the classic “Nosferatu,” 1922. The former is likely the first film adaptation of “Dracula,” but with a lot of artistic license. The character is not a vampire, but a patient in a mental asylum. It appears a surreal blend of a vampire film with ‘”Cabinet of Caligari,” and I desperately hope a print is located some day. The film played in the early ’20s, and as late as 1927, then disappeared, Rhodes notes. A real treat of “Vampires of Silent Cinema” is that Rhodes includes the complete published novella of “Drakula Halala,” published in conjunction with the film.

So much has been written about “Nosferatu” that Rhodes provides a fun, original take on the chapter. As narrator, he has readers experience the film’s premiere in Germany at a weekend festival as if the reader was there. Besides an experience of the festival’s happenings, Rhodes includes newspaper columns of the event and reviews of the film. “Vampires in Silent Cinema” is an academic publication, but this more lighthearted chapter is still full of information and does not detract from the seriousness of the subject.

In the chapter on “London After Midnight,” Rhodes explores star Lon Chaney’s iconic portrayal of the fake vampire, and how it has been used in popular culture, including cartoons. He talks about efforts to find the long sought-after lost film and the various hoaxes anouncing its “rediscovery.” I have seen the attempt to recreate “London After Midnight” via stills, that Rhodes writes about. It has shown on Turner Classic Movies. As Rhodes notes, without the facial expressions and physical movements, it cannot really capture the film’s impact. He includes in the chapter observations from individuals who saw the film.

There’s another chapter on the arrival, from stage to film, of “Dracula,” 1931, the most iconic one, with Bela Lugosi. Before that is an interesting chapter that discusses two 1920s untitled silent amateur-produced vampire films, preserved as “F-0343” and “F-0332.” Stills in the books show efforts to create a vampire-type movie. These are quirky facts that I enjoyed learning about. Apparently they are included in a Something Weird 2001 DVD of “Monsters Crash the Pajama Party Spook Show Spectacular.” The film was a low-budget theater offering in the 1960s, and I have seen it. I’m looking forward to watching that DVD again.

Rhodes’ book is only slightly more than 200 pages, but it’s full of original information, presented affably. It entertains as well as informs. It moves through the 18th through 21st centuries, providing a history of vampire culture, and how it was presented through press, books, the stage and screen. The hardcover book is very pricy, but Rhodes has noted that a paperback version will be priced more reasonably.

Rhodes has been a prolific writer and researcher. “Vampires in Silent Cinema” meets his high standards, and I’m sure more genre books will follow.

This review was cross-posted from the Plan9Crunch blog.