A newlywed couple are passing through a vacation resort. Their paths cross with a mysterious, strikingly beautiful countess and her aide.
Sexuality, conformity, and desire have always been alluded to in the realm of the vampire genre but “Daughters of Darkness” was one of the first films to explicitly exhibit these topics. The 1971 restored cult classic opens with a couple making love in a classy sleeper train cabin lined with mahogany. The room is supernatural looking, lit by dark purple and blue colors that illuminate their naked bodies. Valerie (Danielle Quimet) and her husband Stefan (John Karlen) are newlyweds from Switzerland and they can’t keep their hands off one another. Next, their train arrives at an old seaside resort and since it’s winter there’s no one else around. Inside, the resort’s lobby resembles an old castle with large tropical plants placed in different corners. The exhausted duo check-in and retire to their suite.
Later that night, a veiled blonde-haired woman (Delphine Seyrig), with striking features, exits her luxurious vintage car and enters the same hotel. Her assistant Ilona (Andrea Rau) parks the car and brings up their luggage. The hotel’s porter immediately begins to perspire and fumble when he makes eye contact with this mysterious woman. She introduces herself as Countess Bathory from Hungary. The porter mentions he recalls her staying there over forty years ago and how the Countess’s appearance has remained untarnished by age.
While on a day trip to the ancient village of Bruges, Valerie and Stefan stumble across a murder scene that occurred in a row home. A retired police officer, (Georges Jamin), is overseeing the gurney being loaded into a coroner’s van and notes that there’s not a drop of blood in the house nor left in the victim. Although he’s retired, the policeman thinks the couple is somehow involved and heads to the resort to further investigate. Bathory, looking for fresh blood, continues to insert herself in the young couples’ lives, creating a rift between them.
The real story of Countess Elizabeth Bathory, who was allegedly the inspiration for Bram Stoker’s “Dracula,” is insane and disturbing. From 1590 to 1610, the Hungarian noblewoman, according to over three hundred witnesses, committed roughly seven hundred murders. Most of her victims were young girls, mainly servants that were conveniently vulnerable and expendable. According to folklore, she might have even bathed in the blood of her victims, believing their virginal essence to be capable of making her impervious to growing old. There have been several adaptations of her life throughout recent history but I’m surprised there hasn’t been a Netflix or HBO series produced.
Writer/Director Harry Kümel hails from Antwerp, Belgium, and does mostly a fine job of blending historical horror and psychosexual sensibilities into a unique genre but currently, only someone like Nicolas Winding-Refn is comparable. In 2016 his film “Neon Demon,” centered on a trio of vampiric lesbians that manipulate the moral protagonist and similarly enjoyed bathing in virgins’ blood. Perhaps only certain European filmmakers are interested in this particular aesthetic.
Production took place on location in the coastal town Ostend, with some settings around Bruges and Brussels. I spent five years of my childhood in Antwerp so I’m always happy to see films set in a familiar country. Kümel’s regular cinematographer, Eduard van der Eden, does a wonderful job capturing the stark coastline, medieval architecture, and sparkling lights bouncing off candelabras and Bathory’s stunning outfits. Their color scheme is an abundance of deep blues mostly seen on the empty beach and other night shots, embodying the nocturnal Countess. I also really appreciated the score by composer Francois de Roubaix. The mixture of trumpets, jazzy percussion, and dreamy synths conjure a sense of seductive noir. I could picture someone like Quentin Tarantino using one of the tracks in his next projects and the packaging for the Blu-ray is a brilliant marketing model. The cover is an eye-popping retro hologram and in addition to the 4K and Blu-ray discs, there’s a compact disc of the soundtrack included. In the age of streaming dominating most art, it’s comforting to have a thoughtfully designed piece of physical media.
Now available on a 50th Anniversary Restoration 3-Disc Limited Edition 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray
