This is an updated version of a review that was originally published in Bleeding Skull! A 1990s Trash-Horror Odyssey.
Exploring the innermost fantasies of anonymous strangers has never been more fascinating. Or terrifying.
In the late 1980s, Gary Whitson founded a production and distribution company named W.A.V.E. Productions. But this was no ordinary video label. Like the “song poem” craze of the 1970s, most of the company’s output was written and commissioned by a customer, and then filmed by Whitson and his gang of bartenders, neighbors, and bass players in New Jersey. But unlike song poems, Whitson’s productions were made available to the public through a mail order catalog. This meant that we could see vampires wearing Bart Simpson shirts (Psycho Vampire), mummies with foot fetishes (The Mummy’s Dungeon), and people shooting other people with shrink rays and then eating them alive (Eaten Alive).
As great as all of this sounds, it’s important to keep in mind that W.A.V.E. movies are built on three basic principles:
1. Repetition
2. Bondage
3. Choking
In other words, no human being is capable of watching a W.A.V.E. movie in one sitting without smashing the fast-forward button every two minutes. I don’t care who you are or what you say or if your favorite movie is Luchino Visconti’s Ludwig, which is 238 minutes long—it’s just not possible. However, there’s no denying the allure of W.A.V.E. movies as a concept. Who isn’t curious about what turns on the average American basement dweller? Hint: it probably has something to do with a woman in her bra and panties drowning in quicksand (Deadly Quicksand). Or, in the case of Vampire Brides, it has everything to do with a vampire named Dave who wears a leather vest and no shirt.
Tina just broke up with her boyfriend. She visits her mother and asks if she can stay at home until it all blows over. Mom says, “I don’t know how to tell ya this, but I don’t know what to tell ya.” Tina storms off and visits her friend, Vanessa. Vanessa turns on a boom box and does aerobics. Meanwhile, Tina and Dave make out. We already know that Dave is a vampire. But here’s the rub—he can’t bring himself to bite Tina because he loves her too much. So sweet! We never find out how Dave and Tina met, or what happened to Tina’s boyfriend. But we do know what happens when Anton, Dave’s hulking zombie manservant, appears. Because Anton is in charge of literally carrying Tina, Vanessa, and Tina’s mom into Dave’s lair, where they can be gagged, chained up, and groped for the remaining runtime of the movie.
Of the two dozen W.A.V.E. tapes that I’ve semi-watched, Vampire Brides is the one that most closely resembles a movie. Like every other early W.A.V.E. production, it’s still defined by dank basements, Whitson’s brown plaid couch, a surprisingly chaste approach to sex, and music that sounds like New Edition as interpreted by Frankenstein’s monster. The photography and editing are slightly more proficient than what you’d see in David “The Rock” Nelson’s The Devil Ant. Everything else is caught in a droning vortex of drama, boredom, and madness. But what really sets Vampire Brides apart is that it feels less like a fetish loop and more like an extraterrestrial soap opera.
Vampire Brides features an endless scene of Tina’s mom sitting in front of a fireplace and drinking wine. It also has a dream sequence where Tina is seduced by Dave, while the camera settles on a close-up of her ass for three minutes. There are bloody vampire bites, extended dry-humps between people who are fully clothed, and two instances of a cop using a toy telephone as if it were real. I couldn’t wait for this movie to be over. But when it was over, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Gary Whitson and W.A.V.E. are still going strong today. After three decades and over 300 videos, there’s no doubt that Whitson is the most prolific SOV maniac in history. I can’t recommend W.A.V.E. movies to anyone in good conscience. But I admire Whitson for his perseverance and creative energy. The guy’s a beast.
I would love to read an autobiography by the person who commissioned Vampire Brides.
