The Addiction (1995) Battling a True Horror

By 1995, Abel Ferrara was on a run of high quality work that rivals any of his New York contemporaries’ best. Starting with King of New York in 1990, Ferrara had built up a body of work that plunged into the very depths of city life, disappearing down the dark alleys and shadowy tenement corridors, to uncover a truth about the Big Apple that hadn’t been seen since the days of Taxi Driver. And with his fresh spin on the vampire horror genre, he was about to make his darkest picture to date.

Of course, when it comes to The Addiction, “dark” could be both literal and figurative. The film boasts the most gorgeous cinematography of any Ferrara work, bathed in the blackest blacks contrasting against piercing bright whites, but it’s the not very subtle subtext that uncovers the abyss-like heart of the film – this may be set within a fantastical premise, but The Addiction grapples with the very real horror of its title.

Ferrara has always been extremely candid about his own battles with heroin addiction throughout his life, most notably prior to this film in the much-celebrated, infamous Bad Lieutenant, co-written with Zoe Lund, the star of his early breakout revenge thriller Ms .45, who also battled with, and sadly, ultimately succumbed to her own addiction in 1999, at the tender age of 37. In that film, the titular character contends with all manner of demons, with his love of chasing the dragon only the tip of the iceberg, and the narrative faces them head-on, refusing to shy away in the toughest moments, never hiding behind allegory or ambiguity, with a deeply religious bent – a brutal, unflinching portrayal of a man who has lost all hope, repenting for his sins.

The Addiction is a very different movie. Yes, this is a vampire film on the surface, but the vampirism acts as an entrée into the philosophical discussions around addiction, alienation and morality in the face of existential crises.

Lili Taylor is exceptional in the lead role of Kathy, the polar opposite of Harvey Keitel’s very Bad Lieutenant. Here, she is a young graduate student with all her hopes and dreams ahead of her – incidentally, she is studying philosophy – until one fateful night when walking home through the New York streets, life as she knows it is ripped from her, being dragged into an alley and essentially taking her first hit at the hands – or rather, teeth – of the seductive, impenitent Catherine (portrayed in sterling form by Annabella Sciorra).

A far cry from the typical vampire flicks we’ve grown so accustomed to since those ’30s Universal and ’50s Hammer days, The Addiction swiftly transforms into the kind of film more akin with peak New York Woody Allen or perhaps more appropriately, the works of Roman Polanski, as Kathy is at first captured alone in her apartment, now trapped in a cycle of dependency before her entire outlook on life takes on a new form – embittered at how she allowed herself to become consumed by this new bloodlust, whilst those philosophical teachings she’d attempted to wrap her head around as a graduate, suddenly become infused with a more definitive viewpoint, centred around the hopelessness of human suffering.

A large chunk of the middle act focuses on Kathy coming to terms with her predicament. Building upon his own experiences, Ferrara doesn’t waste time serving a routine vampire picture with extended sequences of transformations, or characters coming to terms with garlic and all that nonsense. Instead, Kathy does indeed accept what she has become, and begins to exist almost purely to serve the addiction – much like a junkie chasing their next high.

As she wanders through the city night after night, Kathy quickly becomes adjusted to her new life of catching that next fix, until she crosses paths with Christopher Walken’s Peina. A Ferrara old guard, Walken once again brings his A-game as the wisened vampire – see, functioning addict – who teaches Kathy how to “survive on a little”, quoting Burroughs, and bringing to mind the great author’s own appearance in Drugstore Cowboy as the Peina to Matt Dillon’s Bob. It’s this clear insight from Ferrara that makes The Addiction so effective. Yes, it works on a basic level as a vampire movie – in that regard alone, it’s wholly unique – but it is the added layer beneath the surface that makes it truly special.

The writing alone would make The Addiction an essential Ferrara work, but the film is amplified by some of his very best direction. Shot by his long-time collaborator Ken Kelsch, whose on-off partnership dates right back to Driller Killer, this is inarguably the pair’s best work together. There’s a patience to the camera, as it creeps quietly around corners. This creates a horror effect of stalking in the shadows, but it also taps into the sadness, loneliness and isolation of the central character. Alongside the cinematography, the choice of music is atypical for a film of this ilk. Ferrara understands New York like few other filmmakers, and he once again taps into the hip hop culture of the city, juxtaposing the beats – some a little on the nose it must be said, such as Cypress Hill’s I Wanna Get High – with the slow-building tones of Joe Delia’s score. All of these components serve to create an otherworldly atmosphere that co-exists within the real world, much like a vampire amongst the living, or an addict amongst the clean.

The upcoming Arrow 4K release includes a number of features including an audio commentary with Ferrara, an archival piece from the time of production focusing on the director’s editing process, a pair of 2018 interviews with Ferrara and biographer Brad Stevens, and perhaps the most interesting, a documentary entitled Talking with the Vampires, which involves the director sitting down with Taylor, Walken, Delia and Kelsch, where the conversation naturally turns to… you got it, addiction.

All in all, this is a dark, moody piece about a subject that rightfully deserves that tone, made by a person with an intimate knowledge on it, and the capacity to craft a film around it that remains endlessly fascinating.

For fans of Ferrara, it’s essential. For everybody else, it’s still highly recommended.

Jake’s Archive – The Addiction (1995)