Martin (1977) is the fifth film from George Romero, coming hot on the heels of The Crazies (1973). It follows the eponymous Martin, a troubled young man who believes he is an 84-year-old vampire. This belief is endorsed by many of his family members who call him Nosferatu and spend their days brandishing crosses and garlic at him. Sent to live with his cousin, we follow Martin’s humdrum life as a grocery delivery boy by day, before transforming into a sexual predator by night.
The truth of Martin’s vampirism is never revealed. We never learn if Martin is in fact a member of the undead or a man suffering from delusions. But that is what makes Martin an interesting and worthy addition to the saturated (in blood…) vampire canon. Martin does kill women and drinks their blood. He feels this is a necessity, he grows “shaky” if he doesn’t, and so doesn’t that make him a vampire? Martin’s actions call to mind the gruesome facts of true crime cases that have featured vampirism, with teenagers murdering parents and neighbours and drinking blood in twisted, self-directed, ceremonies. At what point does it stop mattering to us if this is a delusion or not? Martin is still a danger to his community, and is still a sexual predator preying on women; does it matter if he uses fangs or a razor blade to murder them? This is an element of vampire lore that isn’t often explored, and it encourages the viewer to think about these labels and their significance. Exsanguination is exsanguination after all, whether the perpetrator is an 84 years old vampire, or a messed-up teenager looking for his place in the world.
He is a coward, constantly lurking around windows and in doorways, watching and planning his next attack. Much like the antisocial creeps before him (we are looking at you Norman Bates), he only gets his kicks when they can’t fight back.
There is a clear sexual element to Martin’s behaviour, one that calls to mind the grubby dealings of a multitude of other murderers. We see that when he is sexually fulfilled, in an affair with an understandably depressed local housewife, his need for blood decreases. And in the act of draining women of blood, he is very clearly sexually motivated, stripping them, kissing their unconscious lips and playing the role of a much more confident Count. He discloses that he can’t do “the sexy stuff” when women are conscious, highlighting that there are much deeper issues at play than just a fascination for blood.
The truth is that, whatever the reason, Martin is a creep. He romanticises his interactions with women and when confronted by them, hair flying, nails slashing, berating him, he drugs them so they can’t fight back. He is a coward, constantly lurking around windows and in doorways, watching and planning his next attack. Much like the antisocial creeps before him (we are looking at you Norman Bates), he only gets his kicks when they can’t fight back. This makes it hard to sympathise with him and his eventual fate.
There is an element of Romero’s usual social commentary in this film, but its intent is muddied and, as another reviewer noted, the pace of the film is “molasses slow” despite a decent run time of 95 minutes. On the plus side, this is personal preference talking here, the sense of relief when seeing a 90-minute run time is almost ecstatic these days. Leave your 2-3 hour epics at the door, and get to the point. Having said that, much of this film is repeated shots of Martin chasing women around large houses and wandering the streets, making it appear that the film could have been shorter still and still maintained its narrative arc. Overall, there are some interesting points being made here, but they can get drowned out and lost in a haze of long shots and repetitive flashbacks.
George A. Romero’s Martin (1977) is on Second Sight Blu-Ray(4K)
Megan’s Archive: George A’ Romero’s Martin (1977)
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