+ another review by Cynthia Fuchs
"Do you believe in rock and roll?"
"And can music save your mortal soul?" Well, no, at least
not in Michael Rymer's Queen of the Damned. Here,
rock and roll is seductive and evil, and leads only to
damnation (as if to suggest that Tipper Gore never knew how
right she was). The primary vampire in the film -- Lestat
(Stuart Townsend) -- is, in fact, a rock star. After a
hiatus of many years, spent sleeping away in his crypt, he
finds his slumber disturbed by some new sound in the air.
"The world," he says, "sounded different, better." Cue up
the Korn.
The reason Lestat retreated from the world of mortals and
vampires to begin with was loneliness. Vampires, you see,
can never be known by mortals, and the price for any such
familiarity is a bloody death (for the humans, vampires
already being dead). Vampires can hang around with other
vampires, but after a few centuries, these companions
apparently grow tedious. This is the lesson Lestat learns
from Marius (Vincent Perez of Crow: City of Angels,
who took over the role of the Crow after Brandon Lee was
killed on the set of the first film), the ancient vampire
who made him.
When Lestat is awakened by the sound of
neo-metal/goth/industrial music, he decides that this is
the vehicle by which he will cure his loneliness. Not only
will he gain millions of adoring fans, but he will also
challenge all the other vampires who insist on staying
hidden from the world, to come join him. This is where
Queen of the Damned comes closest to acknowledging
the queerness and homoerotics of Rice's books and vampire
lore generally.
At a press conference leading up to a "live" performance by
his band (named "The Vampire Lestat") in Death Valley,
Lestat answers reporters' question via satellite. When
queried about being a vampire, and whether vampires are
supposed to keep their identities hidden, Lestat responds:
"Why hide in this day and age? I've hidden myself for
centuries." He then issues his challenge to vampires around
the world: "Come out, come out, wherever you are." Lestat's
primary target here is the "queen of all who are damned,"
the mother of all vampires and all-purpose bad-ass girl,
Akasha (Aaliyah), once queen of Egypt and object of
interest for the ever-transgressive Lestat.
His overstepping the boundaries of vampire ethics and his
egotistical preening and posturing on stage and in public,
come to a head at the Death Valley concert, which turns
into a bloodsuckers' battle royale. There's something more
than a little obvious about the vampire Lestat as goth rock
superstar. From Bauhaus and Peter Murphy solo, to Nine Inch
Nails, Marilyn Manson and Slipknot, goth rock, in all its
permutations, has always dallied with various monstrous,
satanic, and vampiric stylistics. In fact, as Lestat,
Townsend looks and sings like some amalgamation of all
these goth rock gods. Maybe this lack of originality is the
point: Lestat succeeds precisely because of the precedents
set by Murphy, Manson, Reznor, et. al. That doesn't make it
any less tired. There is also something more than obvious
about Queen of the Damned's commentary on the
vampiric nature of fame. Celebrities, rock stars
especially, "feed off" the adulation of their fans, as well
as off sex, drugs, and excesses of all sorts.
It isn't, however, only cliches and obviousness that damn
Queen of the Damned. Add to this the fact that the
story doesn't make a whole lot of sense, and its fate is
sealed. This is most obvious in the plot concerning Jesse
Reeves (Marguerite Moreau) and her aunt Maharet (Lena
Olin). There is some dark secret in their family that, even
when "revealed," is never explained very well. Or, the
reason for this family's vital import to the continuation
of the vampire race is totally opaque. Nor do we ever learn
why Jesse so readily leaves her position at the Talamansca
Institute for Paranormal Studies in order to chase Lestat
around the globe and beg him to make her a vampire. Perhaps
this makes some sense to Rice fans, but the rest of us will
be left wondering. I actually read the books years ago and
it still left me puzzled.
Undoubtedly, the reason many will see Queen of the
Damned is out of some grisly fascination with or
respect for the recently departed Aaliyah. Admittedly,
there is something a little bit spooky about watching the
deceased singer/actress play the undead queen of the
vampires. Her family and lawyers have been sensitive to
this possibility, as they protested WB's advertising
campaign featuring Aaliyah as Akasha, with the copy
reading, "All she wants is hell on earth." I'm not sure
exactly what was objectionable about this ad, unless it has
something to do with the ways in which Aaliyah has been so
canonized since her untimely demise, but it certainly has
made some of those she left behind very uncomfortable.
Aaliyah is the best, and really the only, reason to see
Queen of the Damned. She steals every scene in
which she appears -- and these are actually few and far
between. As Akasha, she's corrupt, voracious, and totally
sexy, as when she leaves the ground littered with the
corpses of victims she has drained, and licks her
blood-smeared lips as she walks away. Even Aaliyah,
however, can't save the film. It's a strange day indeed
when I find myself longing for Neil Jordan's Interview
with the Vampire (which I once thought pretty abysmal),
and, perhaps worse, thinking maybe Tom Cruise didn't do
such a bad job after all.