Queen
of the Damned is the
campy, comic-book flip side to Neil Jordan’s Interview with the Vampire, jettisoning the self-important, artsy
pretensions of that first screen adaptation of Anne Rice’s Vampire
Chronicles for a flashy, trashy goth-rock hybrid. Equal parts The
Crow, From Dusk ‘til Dawn, and Marilyn Manson’s back-catalogue of
doomy, nihilistic rock videos, Michael Rymer’s proudly silly
spectacle is for people who felt that Rice’s decadent bloodsucker
epics took themselves far too seriously. It’s striving to be cool
to the core, full of face-melting industrial metal music and enough
black spandex to don everyone at a Satanic coven’s progressive
dinner party, but it ultimately has more in common with Beetlejuice
than a black mass.
Full of Darth Vader wheezing sounds
and ancient stone sculptures to "class it up", Queen
of the Damned begins with the eloquent voice of
testosterone-driven vampire Lestat (a gamely suave Stuart Townsend)
informing us, "There comes a time when every vampire finds the
concept of eternity unbearable." Revealing an undead death wish,
this stringy-haired teenybopper announces that after "100 years of
death," he’s re-emerged to have some worldly fun. Afterwards,
he’ll allow fellow ghouls the hallowed opportunity to stomp his
guts out in California’s Mojave Desert, while the Trent Reznor
lookalike struts with a microphone as front man for a heavy rock
band at a kind of demonic Woodstock. Seems that his vampire peers
have a beef with Lestat’s vanity, angry that he has brought the
undead population into the public eye.
This whole vampire-as-rock-star
concept is a fascinating angle. Lestat facilitates press
conferences, where journalists question whether he’s a true
vampire, or merely a publicity hound masquerading as a debauched
blood-craver. The movie’s one clever in-joke is its assertion that
our society is currently so jaded by grotesque images that if a real
demon did emerge, we’d
be hard-pressed to notice. Meanwhile, his celebrity persona attracts
the advances of nubile groupies, whose throats are casually shredded
like tissue during Lestat’s after-show festivities.
Meanwhile, there’s a subplot
concerning the Talamasca, an English clique of paranormal experts
that includes Jesse (Marguerite Moreau), a fetching young female who
has a crush on Lestat and fails to take heed of her group’s creed,
"Observe the dark core, but never be a part of it." Later on,
Lestat’s torrid tunes awaken Queen Akasha (embodied by an
erotically charismatic Aaliyah, who died in a plane crash shortly
after the film wrapped), a super-vampire who turns foes into burning
piles of ash with a single, piercing stare.
Decorated in a bronze,
Egyptian-style headdress and urban goth garb, Aaliyah commands the
screen as she rips hearts from chests, Temple
of Doom-style. Will she seduce Lestat to rule the earth as her
eternal companion? Will Jessie win his hand in unholy matrimony
instead? Queen of the Damned
ends in an orgy of Korn-inspired noise, as evil beings fly through
the air and clash for the privilege of ruling mankind. They
occasionally meet their demise, undulating in graphic death throes,
as missiles of black dust shoot from their roasting carcasses like
octopus tentacles.
Review by KJ Doughton · Nitrate Online
