The Velvet Vampire (1971)

The Velvet Vampire (1971) sets out to be iconoclastic: it gets off to a brisk start with a woman apparently being stalked by a biker type, but the tables are quickly turned and it becomes clear that she is the predator.  A blood-sucking predator at that, as she quickly gets to work biting her victim's neck right there on the boulevard of a small town.  Director Stephanie Rothman follows up this opening by eschewing most of the conventions of the vampire film that had been established up to that time, with the main action taking place not in some dank nineteenth century Gothic castle situated deep in a dark forest, but instead in a modernistic villa in the middle of a desert.  Indeed, most of the action takes place under the bright glare of the desert sun, rather than in damp-ridden, rat infested catacombs.  But while The Velvet Vampire sets out to be a thoroughly modern vampire film in terms of its trappings and protagonist, its narrative approach to the subject remains surprisingly traditional.  Its plot sees a young couple lured to the remote desert villa of an enigmatic female artist, where they find themselves effectively held prisoner - the local garage seemingly unable to repair their broken down car - and subjected to strange dreams and eventually the predatory advances of their blood sucking hostess.  All of the Gothic vampire movie tropes are there: the uncooperative locals, the taciturn man-servant, the graveyard full of their hostess' ancestors.  Even the fact that the vampire can walk around in daylight is an ability established in Bram Stoker's 'Dracula'- the sunlight deprives them of most of their supernatural powers, but won't necessarily destroy them if they dress sensibly.  (The vampire here eventually succumbs to the sunlight when deprived of her wide-brimmed hat and cloak).

Despite being made with obviously limited resources, The Velvet Vampire is a reasonably effective film, with Rothman setting up some memorable set pieces, from that brisk opening through to a climax on the streets of LA, where the vampire, having followed the heroine there via a tense bus ride and chase through the bus terminal, finds herself confronted by a group of crucifix wielding hippies.  The whole scene, with the crucifixes grabbed from nearby craft stalls, is very much of its era.  There are also some unsettling and atmospheric  dream sequences suffered by the couple while at the desert villa, with their bed suddenly situated out in the desert and the husband seduced by the vampire.  A ride through a ghost town also helps build up the atmosphere and tension.  It has to be said, though, that between the set-pieces, the film has a tendency to sag, particularly during its middle section.  It also suffers from some weak performances, particularly from the leads, which undermine the characterisations of the main protagonists.  But overall, The Velvet Vampire is a pretty decent low budget horror film, with Rothman making the most of her desert locations and giving the film a somewhat more 'artistic' look that contrasts neatly with the more exploitative subject matter.  It is certainly a lot more coherent and far more slickly made than her previous vampire film, Blood Bath (1966), which was created by combining footage newly shot by Rothman with footage previously shot by Jack Hill, in order to reshape an espionage film into a horror film.  Velvet Vampire (along with Blood Bath) was one of a number of low budget films that Rothman directed for Roger Corman  that were variously released through AIP, Trans America and New World Pictures, before she moved on to making similar films for Dimension Pictures.  

While uneven, The Velvet Vampire remains an interesting film, certainly a cut above most other low budget horror films of its era.  It was also reasonably innovative, coming early on in new cycle of vampire films that often featured female vampires, (Hammer's The Vampire Lovers (1970) had been released the year before), and took place in contemporary settings, (Count Yorga, Vampire (1970), for instance).  Indeed, it is , arguably, far more innovative than the Count Yorga movies, which present their vampire in traditional terms and, in spite of their modern settings, confine most of their action to Gothic settings.  The Velvet Vampire, by contrast, places its vampire very firmly in the 1970s and shows her as being more than capable of both fitting into and functioning effectively in the modern world.