Usually,
vampires are seductive, as in Anne Rice novels, or sophisticated, like vintage
Bela Lugosi. Sadly, Vidar Hårr is just plain awkward, but its not his fault. He’s
Norwegian. Alas, the nocturnal existence of the undead just isn’t what he was
hoping for in Thomas Aske Berg & Frederik Waldeland’s Vidar the Vampire (trailer here), which releases today on VOD, under the
Dread Central Presents imprimatur.
Poor
Hårr still lives with his mother, so it is no surprise he never had any luck
with the ladies. He works like a dog on the farm and his only outside life comes
on Sundays at their speaking-in-tongues church. Hårr desperately prays for a
little action—and lo and behold, his wish is granted. Suddenly, he is a blood-dependent,
light-sensitive vampire. He will learn the ropes of the hedonistic undead
lifestyle from none other than the thoroughly debauched Jesus himself.
That
water into wine gimmick always impresses women. Unfortunately, Hårr just can’t
get with the program, even after a few resurrections. Frankly, he cramps his
style so badly, Jesus starts to leave Hårr leashed up outside nightclubs, like
a dog. At least Hårr has sought help from a shrink, to whom he tells his unlikely
tale of woe, but he obviously needs years of therapy.
So
yes, the land of fjords has brought us a depiction of Jesus Christ as a
sociopathic playboy. The good news is whatever bad things you did during the making
Vidar probably went unnoticed
upstairs. His grace is infinite, but Brigt Skrettingland should still cut down
on the cholesterol. In any event, it turns out Night of the Virgin isn’t the most offensive film we’re reviewing
here today, which is saying something.
The
thing is, unless you are completely besotted with the film’s transgressive,
borderline blasphemous premise, it really isn’t that funny. V the V hits roughly the same notes over
and over. Honestly, it is downright mean-spirited in its treatment of Hårr, not
that he is an especially likable character anyway. Yet, they periodically harken
back to his former innocence by having the actor who played young Hårr reprise
the role in select present-day scenes, for dramatic effect. It is a striking
technique, but it undercuts the pervasive nihilism required for most of the
film’s humor (including a rather misogynistic sequence—seriously, Samantha Bee’s
favorite word is used twice in the imdb credits to describe characters involved—and
we’re not talking about “ineffectual”).
Berg
is certainly gawky as Hårr, but it is debatable whether he really expresses any
deeper human feelings. For better or worse, Skrettingland goes all in as the
maniacal Jesus, so maybe we should all pray for his soul (or be grateful Buddha
has a sense of humor about these things). Henrik Rafaelson also deserves credit
for tapping into his inner Elmer Gantry as the faith-healing Pastor Tor Magne
Abrahamsen.
