Mario Bava's Planet of the Vampires (1965)
High on the list of misleading film titles, comes this classic slice of science fiction suspense from the late, great Mario Bava. Planet of the Vampires is now viewed as one of the defining moments in European fantasy cinema, and as having a considerable influence upon Ridley Scott’s masterpiece Alien. However, those expecting a rollercoaster ride packed full of chest mangling hybrids from outer space will be sorely disappointed.
Captain Mark (Mark? Mark? Shouldn’t all movie astronauts have cool names like Han Solo and Ripley???), played by Barry Sullivan, and his crew crash land on a desolate planet only to find it inhabited by ‘luminous globes’, huge skeleton fossils and an old deserted spaceship. Previously, they had been contacted by another ship, also stranded on this planet, but upon further investigation Mark and his buddies discover the astronauts to be dead. Until, that is, they begin to rise from their space-graves with the intention of inhabiting the bodies of any living humans!!! Yup, seems these ‘luminous globes’ contain some sort of endangered alien race who have no choice but to suck the life from the living. Or something...
The story behind this doesn’t amount to a great deal of sense, but then neither does your average Dario Argento film and please introduce me to someone who doesn’t love Suspiria. Mario Bava is a master cameraman and even his weakest movies have moments of beauty and inspiration: Planet of the Vampires is no different. Bava uses an evidently small studio set to the best of his abilities, creating a claustrophobic atmosphere and utilising a ton of fog in order to mask his lack of space and mould a highly convincing wilderness that appears to last forever. The ‘planet’ itself resembles a desert and it is lit a dazzling shade of blue and red throughout (a possible influence on the aforementioned Suspiria). There is also a conspicuous lack of soundtrack, just the consistent whistle of the wind and this, coupled with the fog, the skeletons and the occasional dead tree branch popping into shot, makes for a highly convincing decaying world.
Even in spite of the lack of logic, Bava directs with such confidence that you can’t help but be swept up in the on screen happenings and the movie is shot with delightful Colorscope widescreen photography.
There is even a pre-Night of the Living Dead downbeat ending and a quaint, satisfying revelation.
Granted, this is no Alien, but the scene in which Sullivan and his female pilot investigate a marooned ship manages to create a sense of wonder and peril on a fraction of the budget that Ridley Scott had to work with. No mean feat there! Furthermore, the use of fog as a tool of horror and impending menace indicates that a young John Carpenter may well have been watching. Inevitably, there are some cheap, unconvincing special effects and, occasionally, the pace begins to drag, but this is obviously essential. No vampires, then, but for Bava fans and zombie movie fanatics (and one character even mentions the ‘living dead’) this should prove a difficult, but worthwhile, find. Could somebody please release a suitably letterboxed version?
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