The Sexy Bloodsoaked Vampire Bad Boy That We’re Not Talking About Enough
Before Kathryn Bigelow leaned into the horror of war with Zero Dark Thirty and The Hurt Locker, Bigelow made a dreary, violent, vampire western that has the distinction of being accidentally extremely sexy.
Sure, her Netflix political drama A House of Dynamite was scary, but Near Dark is my worst nightmare, actually. The 1987 movie is truly a meet-cute gone wrong, as many 80s horror movies are — hello, Heathers and Blue Velvet.
In Near Dark, Caleb (Adrian Pasdar) meets Mae (Jenny Wright), there’s an instant spark, and they spend a smoldering night together. But the next thing Caleb knows, he’s forced to hang out with a gang of messy, raggedy vampires, and he literally can’t go home. I just know my social battery would die at the same point in every lifetime, vampire or not, so I’d hate to be in Caleb’s dusty little Lucchese boots.
Soon, Caleb’s budding romance with Mae feels far away, thanks to the most disturbed of the vampires, Severen (Bill Paxton). Severen’s pissed that Mae turned someone, and he wants to kill Caleb. Meanwhile, the ringleader of the group, Jesse (Lance Henriksen), says no, and decides that Caleb is just a part of the group now. If Jesse is the brains, Severen is the teeth. He’s volatile and violent and prickly in a deeply uncomfortable way. And unfortunately, he’s absolutely Horror Crush-worthy. There’s a lot that’s going for him. Cuts a terrifying figure? Check. Long black hair? Check. Looks good in a leather jacket? Check.
What helps sell you the fantasy is that Near Dark feels like a mashup of two iconic other late 80s movies: Roadhouse from 1989, and Lost Boys from 1987, of course. There’s an existing familiarity when you watch Near Dark, and you know, in the context of this rugged world, comfort that Severen fits the bad boy archetype. And if you’re anything like me, you’ve found Severen sexy against your will. He’s a relentless antagonist, similar to Santa Carla’s David. Severen is ruthless and reckless, and in this nomadic gang, Severen has embodied wild cowboy energy to the max. He’s someone who would have ripped the roadhouse bouncer in two and would have snatched that little dangly piece of jewelry out of David’s ears.
Unfortunately, Severen’s feral energy is on full swoon-worthy display in the Near Dark bar scene. Trading beers for blood, the clique has gone on a bender. Whereas the other vampires are pretty practical and straitlaced in their feeding, Severen takes immense joy in bloodletting. He hoots and howls, prowling throughout the seedy dive as “Fever” wafts through the bar speakers. Severen’s body looks electric as he spins about, roaring that the warm liquid trickling out of a patron’s neck is “finger lickin’ good.” Covered in blood and sucking the juices off his long, beautiful fingers, you can’t help but recontextualize this unhibited moment.
Nothing can blow his high — not even poor, baby vampire Caleb, who doesn’t want to be there, getting blasted by the bartender with a sawed-off shotgun. Severen, his chest in taut relief by the blood sticking to his ribbed tank top, is seemingly made sweet by the carnage. He pats Caleb on the shoulder and asks the newborn to sit this one out.
As the bartender tries to reload, there’s a split second where Severen grins, baring all his teeth through his bloody mug as he pushes his glasses up on his nose. He shoots the kind of wolfish smile that makes your stomach flip.
Completely in his element, Severen runs and jumps up onto the dive bar’s counter. The bartender has already been attempting and failing to slot the bullets into their chambers, and he’s visibly shaking. It’s undeniable that Severen takes pleasure in how the bartender has become clumsy with fear.
Severen takes a step forward, the bartender takes a step back, and it’s a sick dance. You can’t help but imagine how it would feel to burn under Severen’s immortal gaze, or to be the object of his focus. That attention to detail is present in how Severen creates maximum horror, even though we all know that the bar staffer won’t live to tell the tale.
You wonder if Severen makes the bartender’s final moments so full of fear because he’d be able to taste it. Why else would Severen take care to not just walk across the bar, but kick the cups off the counter like teed-up golf balls, making us all flinch at the sound of shattering glass?
Yet you can’t help but think of how it would feel to be looking up at him, hearing him taunt you as he does when the man is trying to load his gun. You can’t help but imagine how it feels to be stalked by this imposing, blood-covered man — just in a different context.
It’s wild how Near Dark has this effect on you: Through the scent of copper, through the dust that sticks in your throat, and through the terror of miles between you and home, you can’t help but melt a little. When Severen goes in for the kill, it’s a done deal. He’s not interested in adding to the crew’s headcount. He’s astute enough to ensure that there are no mistakes.
Severen uses the spurs of his boots not to encourage a horse to speed but to slice the bartender’s throat clean open. Another question emerges: Would the hard edges of Severen’s sadism soften in the bedroom, or would they become sharper?
When it’s all said and done, I don’t think Near Dark will ever be my favorite vampire movie. I don’t think it’ll even be my favorite 80s vampire movie. But I will always have a soft spot for bloody, grinning Bill Paxton.
Categorized: Editorials