Vampires

By Eddie Whitlock

I never understood why the “victims” in horror movies didn’t want to be turned into vampires. It looked like a pretty good gig to me. Live forever, turn into a bat, bite people: what’s not to love?

​Yeah, I grew up with the Universal Monsters. I was seeing them in their third incarnation, as movies sold in a bundle for broadcast on late-night television. That’s where I met Dracula.

​The Count was suave, mysterious, and spent a lot of time resting. That seemed closer to my skill set than Frankenstein’s Monster, though I loved Karloff and his creation.

​Bela Lugosi was the first one I knew, but there were plenty of others. There was Sir Christopher Lee, who was so very refined. Even the Wolfman, Lon Chaney, Jr., portrayed Dracula.

​At one point, the moviemakers called the dude “Count Alucard.” I was eight years old, but even I could see that the name was Dracula spelled backwards. Those townspeople were going to get what they deserved for not picking up on that sooner.

​Then I met my favorite vampire of all time: Barnabas Collins.

​Portrayed by Canadian actor Jonathon Frid, Barnabas was an addition to the gothic soap opera “Dark Shadows” in the mid-60s. The show had followed a governess who was hired to take care of children at a creepy Maine estate called Collinwood. Cousin Barnabas was brought in to liven things up, but the character was so popular that he never left.

​Barnabas was a tortured soul. His father had sealed him in a tomb more than a century before, unwilling to destroy his vampire son. Once freed, Barnabas evolved from a predatory creature of the night to a suave, mysterious pop star.

​Sixty years later, Barnabas still holds a place in my heart. The character had been made a vampire when cursed by the witch Angelique Bouchard.

​In the series, Angelique was portrayed by the beautiful Lara Parker. I am pretty sure she kicked off puberty for me, but I will spare you that story. Angelique had been in love with Barnabas, who rejected her. Even at eight years old, I questioned Barnabas’s judgement.

​So, my little group of friends all became vampires that year. Four of us – Barry, Keith, Cary, and I – showed showed up at the Fourth Ward Elementary School Halloween Party dressed as Barnabas. Clark Chambers showed up as Quentin the Werewolf because the makeup for that worked with his freckles better than being a vampire.

​I’ll add one more admission about my obsession with Barnabas: For thirty-five years, I carried a photo of Jonathon Frid in my wallet. He was quiet, handsome, and powerful. I was none of those things, but I admired him for being so.

​When I was a college student in the late 70s, I read Stephen King’s book ‘Salem’s Lot. In that story, there are no suave, dignified, well-dressed vampires. There’s an ancient creature with bloodlust and a town full of weak and flawed people who are easily overcome.

​That book scared me so much that I asked my mother to buy me a cross necklace to wear. She thought I was finally returning to Christianity after several years of being a heathen. Nope. Not yet, anyhow. I was just scared Barlow the Vampire was going to come through the window of my Springdale Street apartment.

​For a variety of reasons that I won’t bring up here, zombies were my next horror obsession. I still worship George Romero. When he died nine years ago, I harbored a secret hope that he would rise from the dead. It just seemed appropriate.

​Barnabas was still my gothic idol. I still wished I could carry myself with the dignity that character had.

​In 1991, there was an attempt to revive “Dark Shadows” on television. I was excited by the idea until I saw the show. An actor with the ironic name “Ben Cross” was cast as the vampire Barnabas Collins.

​Ben Cross’s portrayal of the troubled soul Barnabas gave me the distinct impression that his character had just been smacked in the head with a two-by-four and was struggling to remember why he had come into the room.

​I watched three episodes before giving up. Only twelve episodes were may. Rest in Peace, bad remake.

​A few years later, I found out that Tim Burton was making a movie version of “Dark Shadows.” I had mixed emotions. It would be good to revisit the story and the characters, but Burton operates with a machete, not a scalpel. Indeed, the resulting product seemed to have been sculpted with a machete while blindfolded and wearing boxing gloves.

​The movie did give a passing nod to its namesake. In the party scene, four of the TV show’s cast members appear in cameo as guests. Jonathon Frid, who was in frail health and would die before the movie was released, was among that group. It was a nod, but a damned poor one.

​I have tried to re-watch the original Dark Shadows. It’s a struggle for me. I can now see the weaknesses of the daily soap opera. I’ve decided to let my good memories remain rather than trying to reexperience them.

​Vampires work better as single-minded monsters in modern movies. Particularly, I think of Danny Huston in the movie “30 Days of Night.” When I see them portrayed with mysterious dignity these days, it’s because they’re metaphors, not monsters. That’s too bad.

​I don’t think there’s a place for the mysterious vampire these days. Dracula or Barnabas or even Count Alucard: this world does not allow for quiet dignity and power.

​For Halloween, I may just put on my black cape and sit quietly in the darkness and lament losing my soul to adulthood. Because I, too, can appreciate a metaphor.

Eddie Whitlock is a Georgia native, graduate of UGA, and wannabe writer. He retired in 2021 from the Athens-Clarke County Library, where he worked as coordinator of volunteers, community service supervisor, and vending machine scapegoat.