3.5 stars. Rating: R, for considerable horror violence, brief sensuality and fleeting nudity
By Derrick Bang
The only thing more audaciously
lunatic than this film’s skirmish atop — yes, atop — a panicked herd of horses, is the climactic battle royale aboard
a speeding train.
Say what you will about this
storyline’s cheeky absurdity; director Timur Bekmambetov has style to burn.
Actually, Bekmambetov has built
his entire career on visual pizzazz; the trouble — until now — is that the
scripts for his various projects have been seriously flawed. The Russian-born
director came to our attention with his bizarre, often incomprehensible vampire
franchise, Night Watch and Day Watch. Both films were massively popular in
his native country; on our shores, however, they felt quaintly retro.
But they looked fabulous and boasted plenty of creative touches, even when
it was difficult to follow the seemingly random, fever-dream narratives.
Hollywood took note, and
Bekmambetov made his American film debut with 2008’s similarly flamboyant
adaptation of Wanted, based on the Mark Millar/J.G. Jones comic book series.
Again, though, the frenetic editing, sleek cinematography and loopy action
scenes overwhelmed the ill-defined characters and insufferably haphazard
script.
Happily, things are much better
with Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. Seth Grahame-Smith’s screenplay,
adapted from his own impudent novel, establishes solid characters and progresses
through a clever re-boot of 19th century American history.
This saga belongs to the new
literary sub-genre that Grahame-Smith founded with his first parody novel,
2009’s Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (due to hit the big screen next year).
Although Jane Austen undoubtedly rolled over in her grave — and let’s hope she
stayed there! — Grahame-Smith definitely tapped a fresh vein in the zeitgeist;
if TV shows like Glee can mash up new pop songs with old classics, why not do
the same with written genres?
More to the point, if Quentin
Tarantino can employ his own gonzo talents to re-write history so that a squad
of Jewish U.S. soldiers successfully assassinates Adolf Hitler, in 2009’s Inglourious Basterds — while also scoring an Academy Award for co-star
Christoph Waltz — then surely Bekmambetov and Grahame-Smith can achieve the
same results by giving “Honest Abe” something other than wood to chop, with his
trusty axe.
And, frankly, Grahame-Smith’s
narrative is rather clever. Once we accept the notion that 19th century
vampires infiltrated the United States, with the hopes of helping the South
preserve slavery — in order to maintain a readily available food supply — then
everything else falls into place quite neatly. Grahame-Smith borrows just
enough authentic history to help certain plot points look and sound familiar;
beyond that, we simply hang on for dear life.
We meet young Abraham during a
brief prologue, as he and his father, Thomas (Joseph Mawle), run afoul of a
particularly nasty slaver-holder (Marton Csokas, as Jack Barts). The skirmish
concludes with a minor victory for Thomas, but it’s short-lived; Barts,
actually a vampire, clandestinely visits the Lincoln home that night and kills
Abe’s mother.
A decade passes, during which
Abraham grows into a young man (now played by Benjamin Walker) consumed by a
desire for vengeance. But his reckless attempt to kill Barts goes awry when the
latter reveals the full extent of his horrific powers; fortunately, Abe is
rescued by the mysterious Henry Sturgess (Dominic Cooper).
Sturgess adopts Abe as an
apprentice of sorts, explaining All Things Undead, and telling of an ancient
vampire lord named Adam (Rufus Sewell), who has big plans for the United
States. Adam — something of a malevolent Rhett Butler — shares a deliciously
creepy antebellum mansion in New Orleans with his gorgeous but equally deadly
bodyguard, Vadoma (Erin Watson).
Adam’s name isn’t accidental;
he’s the true first vampire, with a vague biblical reference to source his
origin. Sewell plays the role with a captivating blend of aristocratic
arrogance and chilly amorality, as befits a creature who has existed for
thousands of years.
Abe’s most important lesson,
though — the mantra that Sturgess emphasizes — is the need to rise above a
simple quest for vengeance, in order to serve a greater good. That means taking
out Adam’s concealed lieutenants in big cities such as Springfield, in an
effort to slow the spread of the blood-sucking undead.
As time passes, though — and as
Abe becomes progressively more adept with his axe, and its silver-tipped blade
— he finds that he cannot obey Sturgess’ other warnings: to refrain from making
friends, or to remain out of the public spotlight. The former becomes an issue
after Abe meets the delectable Mary Todd (Mary Elizabeth Winstead); the latter
becomes impossible when he weighs the ongoing pernicious evil of slavery, and
remembers the words of his beloved mother: “Until everyone is free, we are all
slaves.”
Cue Lincoln’s entry into law and
politics, at which point he embraces the dual identities of all classic
superheroes: stirring orator and mild-mannered shop assistant by day, vampire
slayer by night. When Mary questions his continued exhaustion, he smiles and
tells her the truth ... which, naturally, she doesn’t believe.
Grahame-Smith weaves an ambitious
narrative that ultimately breezes through 45 years of Lincoln’s career,
blending familiar political speeches — notably matches against Stephen A.
Douglas (Alan Tudyk) — with increasingly athletic skirmishes against fangsters
of all stripes. These battles, as well, range from the claustrophobic — a
foolish assault during a high-society dance at Adam’s plantation — to the
all-stops-out tableau of a Civil War battlefield.
After all, haven’t you wondered
why some of those Confederate soldiers were so difficult to kill...?
Walker makes a suitably noble and
angst-ridden Lincoln: a good man struggling with the horror of what he
confronts each day. Walker never shies from the absurdities of his character’s
duality; he plays the role utterly straight, and therefore establishes himself
as a likably refined action hero. And, at 6-foot-3, he certainly has the
stature to persuasively sell his performance.
Cooper’s Sturgess is an
intriguing mentor: a figure of inscrutability whose rather intriguing athletic
abilities beg all sorts of questions. Anthony Mackie adds some vigorous snap as
the quick-witted Will Johnson, Abe’s longtime best friend and conscience.
Winstead makes a fetching Mary Todd, although I’m inclined to believe that a
woman of her intelligence would suss out Lincoln’s double life pretty quickly.
Jimmi Simpson is a bit harder to
pin down as Joshua Speed, the shopkeeper who gives Lincoln his first job, and
eventually becomes a good friend. Once made a part of Abe’s “Scooby Gang,”
Speed seems to embrace this frightening battle for survival rather casually,
but fear not: Grahame-Smith has a rather tricky explanation for Speed’s
behavior.
A few authentic historical
figures also pop up, including Harriet Tubman (Jaqueline Fleming) and Jefferson
Davis (John Rothman), the latter making an unholy bargain with Adam, in order
to secure the South’s chances of winning the Civil War.
Caleb Deschanel’s cinematography
is as inventive as William Hoy’s editing; the muted color palette helps evoke
this simpler time, while the frenzied action scenes unfold with greater
vibrancy. The make-up and special-effects work are excellent, with these
vampires sporting particularly nasty sets of needle-sharp teeth.
It’s all completely preposterous,
of course, but you’ve gotta just go with the flow. Bekmambetov choreographs his
action scenes with true panache, and if Walker’s Lincoln boasts moves that
would impress even the most accomplished martial-arts expert, well, it all
feels right at the time.
Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Killer may be pulp nonsense, but it’s a lot of fun nonetheless. And it finally, finally gives Bekmambetov a plot that’s
just as inventive as his visual flamboyance.
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