The vampire-slaying superhero we deserve

“There are worse things out tonight than vampires.”
“Like what?”
“Like me.”

As I watched Blade for the first time in twenty years, I realised that this work of art should hold a special place among comic-book superhero movies. Not merely as the precursor for the Marvel cinematic universe, which it will soon be (re)joining. More importantly, Blade feels like a touchstone for many subsequent action/horror/sci-fi/superhero films, with an aesthetic and tone more relevant now than ever. And quite fittingly, like some vampiric summoning ritual, it is returning to bloody glory just when the time is right.

When I first saw Blade (1998) as a pre-teen, I took it in po-faced seriousness. I remember being grossed out and scared, but admittedly, I found Jurassic Park pretty terrifying. Now, and especially having seen Snipe’s spotlight-stealing turn in Dolemite is my Name, I can appreciate in all its campiness and style. That’s not to say that the production and direction are subpar; quite the opposite. Maybe it’s the difference between seeing it on a fuzzy 14' TV in 1998, compared to an HD, wide screen in 2020, but it looks great. I thought I’d have to ask myself, how did I ever think this was cool? Instead, I’m wondering why I didn’t rewatch it sooner. This is now low-budget, cash in, but a quality piece of cinema. It’s good. Bloody, bloody good. (There’s a lot of blood).

[Apparently, the sequels are a mixed bag, so I’m going pass over those the same way I vowed to avoid The Godfather III, as not to destroy the magic.]

Like many vampire stories in the 90s and 00s, Blade was keen to dispense with the ‘myths’ and show what a world inhabited by vampires would ‘really’ be like. See Blade chiding his new sidekick for believing that crosses are effective against the undead. This is a difficult tightrope to walk, as in the Nolan Batman trilogy. Asking the audience to take these stories too earnestly takes away from the fantasy that makes them appealing in the first place. No guys, really, a billionaire would dress like a bat and fight crime!

Luckily, Blade doesn’t do this too often. Like Dolemite or Shaft, Blade is, quite simply, a ‘bad motherfucker’ and can extricate himself from almost any violent confrontation through the sheer force of his pomposity and uber-confidence. The actual violence is often played for comic effect: sped up or delieverd with a superhuman foresight and accompanying one-liners. The punch sound-effect (I think it is just the one, repeated) sounds like it was lifted straight out of an 80s kung fu flick.

The dresscode is simple: anything, as long as it’s black and, ideally, leather. As much as it pains me to admit, the turn of the millenium is now long enough ago to be coming back around in fashion. For any Gen Z kid yearning for the 90s, goth aesthetic, just look at Blade’s boots, coat and sunglasses, or anything one of the hip, young vampires is wearing.

Speaking of black leather, it may feel like this article should be about another late 90s film: The Matrix. If any film influenced the sci-fi/action genre of the 00s and beyond, it must be this, evident by countless imitators. It may surprise you to learn that Blade (1998) actually predates the release of The Matrix (1999), as with Dark City (1998), the other The Matrix-esque also-ran that actually came out before. It shouldn’t be surprising that films emerging from the same era have similar influences, such as John Woo films, and graphic novels from the US and Japan. If there was any direct cross-pollination, it’s beside the point — it was certainly The Matrix which had the greatest financial success and clear cultural impact (and in all fairness, the most jaw-dropping sequences).

The world you live in is just a sugar-coated topping. There is another world beneath it. The real world. And if you want to survive it, you better learn how to pull the trigger.

That said, the number of similarities with Blade is uncanny. A trench coat wearing, martial arts fighting hero, who turns out to be a reluctant ‘chosen one’. A 90s, techno and leather bound aesthetic. A mind-shattering secret about the true nature of society. A superhuman leap of faith. A ramshackle base and crew that is ultimately infiltrated. An implacable enemy who stop at nothing to track down and eradicate the protagonist, while also offering a truce. Police officers as unwitting lackies. Even a slow-motion bullet dodging scene! In the Wachowskis’ sequels, it’s even more pronounced, as Neo faces off with vampires and other mythical beings (A The Matrix/Blade crossover feels…inevitable).

One of the biggest differences between The Matrix and Blade, however, is that former takes itself far more seriously. In The Matrix, Neo and Trinity famously confront a group of SWAT-like gunmen in a building lobby. The acrobatic scene that follows set the bar for special effects and action choreography for years to come. In Blade, there is similar scene in the final confrontation. Blade handles it by driving a motorcyle through a window and gunning them all down with an uzi in about 30 seconds. Snipe’s one-liner spouting Blade has a lot more in common with Arnie’s terminator than Keanu’s Neo.

Motherfucker, are you out of your damn mind?!

In many ways, Blade is happy to be goofy, unsurprisingly as it owes as much to horror as action or sci-fi. The film isn’t afraid of violence, but neither is it taken too seriously. Like great sci-fi titles of the 80s such as Robocop and Total Recall, or dark-comedy horrors like An American Werewolf in London, Blade specialises in violence as a spectacle. It’s the type of violence that’s designed to make a wide-eyed 13 year old turn around to his friend and gasp, “Did you see THAT?!” The exaggerated and gory special effects largely hold up, and even when they don't, merely add to the charm. We are treated to the blood soaked disco, immolations, dismemberment, a face held against a moving subway train, not to mention an explosive finale.

To its credit, the film choses style over substance in the best way possible. Dr Karen Jenson is a haematologist, living a normal life until a charred vampire kills her colleague (and former fling) before attacking her. She doesn’t spend too long worrying about the existence of vampires and her brush with death, instead following Blade, gun in hand, ready to take down some monsters. Blade is best when it clips along at pace and doesn't spend too much time on the logic or details: Barrelling towards the next confrontation, exposition delivered, hand reaching for the shotgun loaded with silver stakes.

OK, Vampire Anatomy 101, crosses and running water don’t do dick, so you forget what you’ve seen in the movies. You use a stake, silver or sunlight.

The good doctor, as the most prominent female character, comes out of the film well. She is only briefly a damsel in distress and barely registers as a romantic interest. She is not treated with kid gloves, being told blithely of the need to kill herself before she succumbs to her neck bite. She’s also instrumental in developing a new weapon that Blade can use against his adveseries. As a scientist, this weapon is as subtle and nuanced as you might expect one to make: it makes their heads blow up.

Looking back from 2020, other elements stand out. The combination of ancient scripture with 90s computing is glorious. Bulky, beige computer mointors display a 3D rendering of an ancient prophesy. It’s like the lore of vampires is being updated at breakneck speed with not time for filling in the gaps of what came between. But Blade doesn’t have time to worry about looking silly. Who needs a logical backstory when you can torture a grotesque, animatronic vampire with a UV flashlight.

There’s a lot of campy, gory fun to be had with Blade. But, is there more going on beneath the stylised violence and braggadocio? There doesn’t seem to be a single cohesive message in the subtext, but it’s still rewarding to pick apart.

They’ve got their claws into everything — politics, finance, real estate. They already own half of downtown.

Like many vampire tales, the enemy is a secret cabal that has infiltrated society, especially at the higher levels. This conspiratorial thinking will chime with many in 2020, whether it’s the 0.1% fiddling while the world burns, or QAnon’s garish flights of fancy. The vampires in Blade certainly come across as elites, starting with the old school, leather chair, boardroom type (elevated by the uncanny Udo Kier), latterly replaced by a new, decadent generation living in skyscrapers and partying at raves. In fact, the archvillain Deacon Frost reads more as a snotty yuppie than a villain — a disgruntled hedge-fund manager, all open shirts and “Make it happen!”

As with any story in the vampire genre, there are troubling and latent features of the story. The vampire trope in general can veer towards anti-semitism (and other forms of racist paranoia), with the stateless, esoteric ‘other’ secretly controlling key institutions and pulling strings. Indeed, the vampire mythos is linked to Judas and the crucifixion, as in Dracula 2000. This is not a criticism of Blade, but rather pointing out the general tendency which does appear somewhat present, but not pandered to. That said, much of the confrontation between the generations of vampires is over who really counts as a ‘pure blood’, with echos of ethno-nationalism and identity.

I’ll tell you what we are, sister! We’re the top of the fucking food chain. The Blood god’s coming and after tonight, you people are fucking history.

Of course, an American film with a black superhero protagonist can’t help but touch upon race. It could be argued that the vampires represent the undercurrent of racism in US society. While there are black vampires present in the boardroom meetings, the vampire antagonists who affect the plot are all white. The vampire henchman Quinn does come across partly as a redneck stereotype which plays into the audience’s expectations, most notably in the delight he takes when torturing Blade. It should be noted that white biker dude Whistler is a straightforward comrade, confidant and friend to Blade and Dr Karen.

I’m not claiming that Blade is a direct allegory for historical race relations in the US. But, especially in 2020, the idea that society has been infiltrated by extremists who are motivated by biological prejudices, isn’t hard to imagine. A black hero beating up a villainous corrupt cop is not played as a racial or political bit in the film, but viewed out of context from the story, the imagery is striking. It could be read as a Tarantinoesque historical revenge fantasy as in Inglorious Basterds, Django Unchained, or Once upon a time in Hollywood. Like the previously mentioned blacksploitation forbearers, Blade can take the direct method when it comes to restoring justice.

That's a glyph, kind of like a vampire cattle brand. That means Officer Friendly here is someone's property.

Blade was perhaps one of the earlier films to deal with the idea of what a black superhero can be in US culture and society. While superman is fighting an out-and-out villain on main street, Blade faces a dilemma. He is forced to keep to the shadows, and has a dual identity: neither fully human or vampire. His enemy are hidden throughout society, a multifarious force that must make him question his everyday interactions with people. Outsiders who are not aware of the severity of the situations see his actions as obsessive and unjustified.

A film that deals with race and black vigilantism more directly is Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai, which feels like what could happen if someone tried to emulate Blade in a more realistic setting. Both films deal with the passing of the old guard, racial tensions, and have a protagonist who is caught between multiple identities and loyalties. Ultimately, in Ghost Dog, the hitman’s obsessions are shown to be futile and lead to his demise, whereas Blade — as a fantasy anti-hero — will always be around to face the next adventure.

Given the current cultural climate, it’s not surprising that a reboot is in the works. The gruesome forces of racism and white supremacy are stepping out of the shadows and in turn is being met with unprecedented resistance. There has been a resurgence of black horror films dealing with the history and politics of race in the US, such as Get Out, Us, Lovecraft Country and the upcoming Candyman. A common theme is the underlying suspicion that things are not as they seem; that there are secret groups manipulating society, with tensions turning into violence.

The humans fear us because we’re superior. They fear us because in their hearts they know their race has become obsolete.

Despite these examples, there is still a deficit of black representation in superhero movies. In the Marvel universe, characters like the Falcon and War Machine can come across as black versions of the original (white) hero. Strikingly, Black Panther has been a huge step forward in this regard. T’challa is a black superhero on his own terms, but a presence that will be unfortunately absent for the time being, given the untimely death of actor Chadwick Boseman.

Encouragingly, stories about black superheroes are being told on the small screen. The Boys is a show that is cleverer than its puerile humour and comedic violence make it seem, as it exposes superheroes as corporate villains. The super-fast A-Train, the only black member of ‘The Seven’, can be read as commentary on how athletes and performers are exploited and disposed of by their retainers. This confrontation will become all the more pointed in the current season with the addition of the dissimulating Stormfront.

Lindelof’s Watchmen spin-off dealt with racial issues even more directly. For all its faults (namely related to characters from the original comic), the show had some gripping and evocative storylines. Two of the best were reserved for Sister Night and a certain side character who both uncover and face off against white supremacists across American history. The show manages to deal with these issues adroitly, while still being a (mostly) satisfying yarn about caped crusaders.

All the above speaks to how ready we all should be for the return of Blade. The stage is set, as the Marvel universe is running out of steam. Having reached (finally!) the end of whichever cycle — and possibly saturation point with audiences — trends in superhero movies are changing. The Marvel films which started off drab, washed out destructions of New York ad naseum, have managed to evolve to more arresting visuals. Later films like Thor: Ragnarok or Dr Strange were hyper-stlyised, technicolour, and kaleidoscopic with a more experimental, light-hearted tone. It seems that studios are now willing to take more chances.

After years of failing to catch up with Marvel, DC has taken a new direction which is paying dividends. Instead of trying to create a similar, overblown extended universe, it has opted for director-driven, stand-alone movies. This is most clearly seen in the runaway success of Joker which attempted to straddle the line between serious film and comic book movie (while not really doing a great job of either IMHO). What elevated it was not only the character study and physicality of Joaquin Phoenix’s performance, but also it’s late 1970s backdrop. Blade draws from the 70s turn to disillusionment that inspired Joker, seen in scenes like Blade roughing up a bent cop, in front of run down, fluorescent shopfronts . Even the way Blade injects himself with a serum to avoid becoming a vampire reflects alienation, poverty and drug use rampant in the late 20th century.

Not one to let a good thing go, DC are trying a similar formula for the next incarnation of their most popular property: Batman. The Dark Knight and Blade have much in common: despite the supernatural boost, Blade’s MO of detective work combined with gadgets and punching wouldn’t go amiss in Gotham. All eyes now are on the latest adaptation from Matt Reeves (The Batman). Going from the most recent trailer, this seems to be a combination of Nolan realism with dark, gothic horror (we can only hope it will go ‘full-Burton’). Robert Pattison’s new Bat-mobile even resembles Blade’s mode of transport: an all black, stripped back muscle car. Instead of reaching forward with millennial optimism, these films reach back the cynicism and decay of the late 20th century for their palette and tone. All that marks a change from the sleekness of the Nolan years, or the bombastic style adopted by Snyder for ‘Batfleck’ and the Justice League series.

I have spent my entire life searching for that thing that killed my mother, and made me what I am. And every time I take one of those monsters out, I get a little piece of that life back. So don’t you talk to me about forgetting.

Given these current trends in superhero movies, Blade couldn’t come back at a better time. With 90s nostalgia on the rise and the gritty/horror turn in comic adaptations, Marvel must be glad it has a less than squeaky-clean character it can call up from the roster. So, what can we expect from a new Blade movie? Guillermo Del Toro was rumoured to direct, unsurprisingly given he helmed the sequel, and the sadly curtailed Hellboy series. However, there are calls for the project to be given, appropriately, to a black director. Whoever takes the helm, hopefully, they embrace Blade’s first cinematic outing.

Of course, there can be no new Blade movie without a new Blade. Of all the possible candidates, the inimitable Mahershala Ali feels like the right choice. He and Wesley Snipes share little resemblance, but both have an unnerving and other-wordly presence which suits the partly supernatural day-walker. If Twitter was fawning over Robert Pattison and Zoë Kravitz’s casting in The Batman, prepare for overdrive when Ali dons the black leather trench-coat, platform boots and wrap-around shades.

With a global pandemic and political unrest, a new Blade cannot come soon enough. We’re living through a moment in which Black American stories are taking centre stage, and heroes are in high demand. It won’t be for me to say how much the next Blade incarnation speaks to this moment, but I do hope the reboot carries over the best of its predecessor. It should be unashamedly stylish, campy, and gory. Not afraid to pin you to the wall and take out a bite. But, don’t forget — in the face of all these blood suckers coming out the shadows, us humans have to stick together.