The Hunger


THE HUNGER—-open the drawer marked Style Without Content. Director Tony Scott’s 1983 mod-vampire outing shimmers in lush imagery, well photographed by Stephen Goldblatt. It’s awash in production designer indulgence. The people who inhabit the setups don’t raise a stubbed toe worth of concern, empathy, humor or excitement in 100 minutes, so the eye-dazzle ends up a cheat.


Horror stories without a stake (I laugh to myself) in the fate of the characters just turn ridiculous (or sick),and this one, with its Beautiful People Drinking Blood Equals Divine Decadence slant brings more quease than freeze.

With the ‘undead’ of David Bowie and Catherine Deneuve so lifeless, more importance is attached to how erotically a throat can be slashed. Biggest selling point was the highly touted initiation to eternal life given Susan Sarandon by Ms. Deneuve.

Critics didn’t like it, it made around $10,000,000 and has a sort of cult following among Goths. With Cliff De Young, Dan Hedaya and a 28-year old  turk named Willem Dafoe as “Second phone-booth youth”.


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