Count Yorga, Vampire

1970's "The Loves of Count Iorga, Vampire" was intended as the second collaboration between screenwriter/director Bob Kelljan and producer Michael Macready, after their little seen soft porn incest obscurity "Flesh of My Flesh" (neither had made any impact as television actors). Robert Quarry agreed to star only if it were done as a straight horror film minus the nudie trappings, as a European vampire recently transplanted from Bulgaria to modern day Los Angeles, residing on a sprawling hilltop estate complete with dungeon, inspired not by Christopher Lee but Jonathan Frid, whose Barnabas Collins was still seen daily on the Dan Curtis soap DARK SHADOWS. He establishes Yorga right away in the opening scene, conducting a seance for Donna (Donna Anders) that no one seems to take seriously, to communicate with her recently deceased mother (Marsha Jordan), who, not surprisingly, already resides in his abode as a vampire bride. At all times cool, calm and collected, Yorga receives a ride home in the van owned by Paul (Michael Murphy) and Erica (Judith Lang), whose attempt to leave is stymied by an unexpected patch of mud, revealing Yorga's mastery of the elements to maintain a grip on potential victims. An untimely lovemaking session is rudely interrupted by the hungry Count, an amnesiac Erica decidedly withdrawn and in need of a blood transfusion done by Dr. Jim Hayes (Roger Perry), particularly after devouring half a kitten in her sudden bloodlust. By night, she is spirited away following an erotic coupling with Yorga, Paul foolishly rushing off to find her as Dr. Hayes, Donna, and her fiancee Michael (producer Macready) all pay an unannounced call on an initially hospitable but increasingly agitated host. This is easily the picture's best scene, Quarry frequently amused and utterly defiant in his responses to the inane questions posed by his nemeses, impeccably dressed in blood red robes, before taking his leave before the sun rises. The final two reels find our last remaining heroes entering the domain of the undead after dark, without a concrete plan of action, and little hope to succeed. Quarry would self finance his own "Guru Vampire," later picked up for release by AIP as "Deathmaster" (a name taken from this film's posters) before taking on the sequel "The Return of Count Yorga," which benefits from a bigger budget, larger cast, better script, and an even deeper connection to Barnabas Collins.

In this alternate take on the Dracula story, the titular count (from Bulgaria) holds a seance to contact the mother of young Donna. Donna's mom died of some kind of anemia, which of course fits in with the movie's theme. The seance doesn't go as planned, but Yorga is able to implant some post-hypnotic control on poor Donna, and soon enough bodies are piling up as Donna and her friends try to figure out what's what. There's even a henchman who's (apparently) a werewolf! But aside from the present-day (well, 1970) atmosphere and setting, this is a movie useful only as a cult hit. Tired of the same old vampires? Try Count Yorga, sort of a Diet Dracula. As with many genre pics of the period, the acting and direction are pretty nondescript, and the whole thing looks like it was filmed through a screen door.

Not owning the rights to the Bram Stoker creation, AIP decided to invent their own vampire myth: the result is Dracula-in-all-but-name, being suave (sporting gracefully graying hair), cunning (even when caught off-guard, he manages to assert himself and turn the tables on interlopers), psychic (amusingly, he doubles as a medium at private séances!) and feral (his creepy dashes for prospective victims, seemingly out of nowhere, with blood-red eyes and arms outstretched actually gave me a jolt on a couple of occasions!). As played by Robert Quarry, he is quite creditable and effectively gave Christopher Lee (Hammer Film's Dracula incarnate) a run for his money.

Incidentally, he anticipated the other Count's transition to modern times by 2 years and actually managed it a whole lot better (with, thankfully, little resort to Camp). That said, in the attempt to look at the phenomenon with a contemporary mindset, we get a contradiction – people repeatedly scoff at the idea of vampirism in our age, claiming it is a fabrication of literature and cinema, which rather suggests that they are aware of what it entails…and, yet, they are still surprised at what should be its predictable outcome and are required besides to pore over ancient tomes in search of a way to fight it! Though the film was given the alternate title of THE LOVES OF COUNT IORGA, VAMPIRE {sic}, which is actually borne by the copy I watched (for the record, this had been shown on local TV in my childhood but I first caught it years later on British Cable TV), it does not overstress the romantic angle. Indeed, one girl is shown quenching her unnatural thirst for blood by literally draining the life out of a kitten! The presence of a sinister (that is to say, hulking and deformed) acolyte is, admittedly, a bit of a cliché – but Yorga himself seems to have moved with the times (in spite of his traditional attire), since he is shown jadedly presiding over a lesbian vampire show in his living-room!

The stylish film was produced by Michael Macready (who also assumes the requisite heroic persona on-screen, though the doctor-turned-vampire-hunter played by Roger Perry actually has an even more central role!), son of distinguished character actor George Macready (who generously supplies the portentous narration here and which, at the start, erroneously refers to vampires as "The Living Dead"{!}: indeed, the whole film – scripted by Kelljan himself – aspires to a certain literariness but often merely results in being verbose…which, however, it often works around by having characters conversing about the unusual events in which they had been thrust presented as voice-over laid on exterior crowd scenes!). The climax is a downbeat one: while Yorga is almost comically disposed of by being pierced (typically, through the heart) with a splintered broomstick, the lone-survivor hero sustains a vampiric attack from his own girlfriend (herself newly-inducted into the ranks of the Undead)! AIP presumably turned a fast profit with this one, seeing how they immediately commissioned a sequel (and whose own viewing followed that of the original in the current "Halloween Challenge"). However, they would soon come up with yet another (and even more outrageous) variation on vampire lore with the cult Blaxploitation offering BLACULA (1972) – which, in turn, led to the as-yet-unwatched SCREAM BLACULA SCREAM! (1973; helmed by Kelljan himself!)...

At the time this film was made, vampires were almost always slow and hypnotic. This was really the first vampire film that treated them as swift and animalistic. That made this film surprisingly effective. It was even more surprising since it was originally supposed to be a pornographic vampire film called THE LOVES OF COUNT IORGA. It is flawed, but I still think it is the most effective vampire film I have ever seen. And I have seen quite a few.

When we think of great vampire portrayals, normally the names of Lugosi and Christopher Lee immediately pop into our heads. Robert Quarry, however, is as convincing a vampire as both of those great actors. His performance and demeanor as a Bulgarian Count in this film is truly outstanding. He lives in a large house somewhere in California and terrorizes young women and their boyfriends. What makes this picture a better than average vampire film is that it has a very tense and atmospheric plot structure. We basically know what fate will befall our innocent(just) protagonists, but we become riveted to their actions and those of the Count. Quarry plays the Count with a charm that is both amiable and yet caustic. He makes one of the wittiest vampires in film. The rest of the cast is adequate, and I think Roger Perry does a wonderful job as a blood specialist who goads Count Yorga one evening into talking about the supernatural. A must see for the classic horror fan.