"

8 Daughters of Darkness (1971)

Queerness and Vampires in Daughters of Darkness (1971)

By Nikki Ward

 

Society has always had a particular affection for that which goes bump in the night. The mysteries hidden in the darkness confound us; the pinpricks of fear, the rushing of blood, those creeping feelings of dread remind us of more primal times in human history. We fear what we do not understand or what we cannot see, therefore it is often easier for us to come to terms with these things by monsterizing them. The horror genre brings our societal fears and anxieties to life, essentially making horror a very queer concept, as queerness has always been a topic society grapples to understand. Being queer, in whatever form or with whatever label one might take, challenges society’s patriarchal view of gender, sexuality, and power. Queerness is the monster lurking in the darkness; it is the vampire.

 

Lesbians and vampires have been intertwined since they first came out of the coffin. While we often think of the vampire originating with Bram Stoker’s Dracula, one of the very first vampires to appear in literature was actually a woman, known as Carmilla. Sheridan Le Fanu’s Carmilla tells the story of a young girl named Laura who becomes victimized by Carmilla, while also having encounters with her that are explicitly queer. Here we see the lesbian vampire as an embodiment of male fear; her monstrosity works to soothe cultural anxieties surrounding her queerness. Lesbianism has long been feared as a threat to male supremacy, to gender roles, and even to other women. When the lesbian is a vampire, her lover is instead a victim and her allure is but a trick; making the fears and violence directed at her valid. While many lesbian vampire films perpetuate this idea, as well as many of the common stereotypes surrounding lesbians, films such as Harry Kümel’s Daughters of Darkness offer a more positive and evolved portrayal.

 

Valerie featured on the left (Ouimet) and Countess Elizabth Báthory on the right (Seyrig)

 

Daughters of Darkness stars Delphine Seyrig, Danielle Ouimet, and John Karlen. The story follows the picture-perfect newlyweds Valerie and Stefan, who venture to an ominous hotel for their honeymoon. From the beginning, it is clear that their relationship is not exactly perfect, and their differences are only magnified as time goes on. Soon, the couple is joined at the hotel by the mysterious Countess Elizabeth Báthory and her companion Illona. Elizabeth is immediately enamored with Valerie, and as Valerie and Stefan’s relationship deteriorates, Elizabeth and Valerie begin to grow closer. Applauded for its stylish visuals, strong performances, and gothic atmosphere, Daughters of Darkness initially received mixed reviews largely in part to its explicit portrayal of lesbians.

 

In many films of this genre, we see the lesbian vampire as overtly sexual, predatory, and mysteriously powerful. Her vampirism is shown in graphic portrayals of blood and violence; she is the clear villain. Typically, the man is seen as the unsung hero; he is the one who is wronged, he is the one who must protect, he is the one who rides off into the sunset with the girl at the end. This is not the case in Daughters of Darkness. Stefan is unlikeable from the beginning, and grows increasingly more so throughout the film. He is shown graphically harming Valerie on multiple occasions, refusing to vocalize his love for her, and cheating on her with Illona. His view of Valerie is one of possession and sexualization, and his marriage to her is used as a justification for this behavior. In contrast, Elizabeth is gentle with Valerie, she professes her love for her openly, and their displays of intimacy are subtle rather than overtly sexual. Additionally, the film never displays stereotypical symptoms of vampirism; we never see Elizabeth’s fangs, explicit depictions of her drinking Valerie’s blood, or even her physically harming Valerie.

 

 

The Countess (Seyrig) on the right and Valerie on the left (Ouimet)
The Countess (Seyrig) on the right and Valerie on the left (Ouimet) – screen snip

 

Stefan’s hand, played by John Karlen
Stefan’s hand, played by John Karlen – screen snip

 

In these two extreme close up shots, we see the contrasts between Stefan and Elizabeth’s treatment of Valerie displayed through cinematography. In the first shot, the lighting is bright and practically glowing. There is a tinge of white shine, and even the red nails and lipstick mark are more whimsical rather than alarming. In the second shot, the entire frame is tinged with a more saturated red, even the white of the sheets and the pillow. While Elizabeth’s hand gently holds onto Valerie’s, Stefan’s hand tightly grips a belt he used on Valerie in a fit of rage. Both of these frames show implicit representations of Elizabeth and Stefan’s view of Valerie, and when we decode these images we can better understand the power dynamic at hand. The focus of the first shot being on both of their hands suggests equal footing, a mutual respect; while Stefan’s sole hand suggests a more dominant and unequal dynamic between the two.

 

Bonnie Zimmerman, a lesbian and feminist scholar, explains that “The function of the lesbian vampire is to contain attraction between women within the same boundaries of sexual violence, to force it into a patriarchal model of sexuality. By showing the lesbian as a vampire-rapist who violates and destroys her victim, men alleviate their fears that lesbian love could create an alternate model, that two women without coercion or morbidity might prefer one another to a man.” By this standard, Daughters of Darkness does not alleviate male fears: it amplifies them. Elizabeth may be an alluring and persuasive vampire, but Stefan is the one who utilizes violence to force Valerie to stay with him. Elizabeth is the preferable option for Valerie, without the use of tricks or violence, and this disturbs Stefan to his core.

 

Daughters of Darkness also utilizes literary design to demonstrate the different views of power held by Elizabeth and Stefan. In an interaction between Stefan and Valerie, Stefan aggressively holds Valerie in place. “You, Báthory, it’s finished. You hear me? Finished. I am a man and she is mine” (01:30:10). Stefan is not just threatened by Elizabeth because she desires Valerie; his masculinity is threatened because Elizabeth is a woman. In this statement, we see Stefan attempting to regain his power as a man and to put Valerie in her place as his wife.

 

Throughout the film, Elizabeth is openly critical of Stefan’s attitude towards Valerie, and the constructs of the patriarchy that he embodies.Valerie tries to rationalize Stefan’s abusive behavior towards her by pointing out to Elizabeth that he loves her, regardless of the things he does. Elizabeth argues “Stefan loves me, whatever you may think.’ Of course he does. That’s why he dreams of making out of you what every man dreams of making out of every woman- a slave, a thing, an object for pleasure. So you despise me. So I disgust you. Come, I’ll show you what men are really made of. Every man. Yours” (01:08:00). This is a very feminist take; Countess Elizabeth is arguing that Stefan inherently sexualizes and exploits Valerie because he is a man and she is a woman. It also combats the popular idea of the time that lesbians were akin to men in their view of women.

 

During the 1970s, lesbian feminism was created as a counter movement due to the marginalization of lesbians in both the fight for women’s rights and gay rights. Many heterosexual feminists viewed lesbians as lavender menaces: they feared that association with lesbians would label them as “man-haters” or predatory “dykes”, inhibiting them from creating actual change, and many viewed lesbians struggles within the movement as inconsequential. In addition, some heterosexual feminists even argued that the very presence of lesbians in women’s spaces made them unsafe, because lesbians inherently sexualized women in a way similar to men.

 

The 1983 film The Hunger, starring Catherine Denevue, Susan Sarandson, and David Bowie, is one example of these fears being amplified in this subgenre of film. The film’s vampire, Miriam, is the quintessential predatory lesbian. She views her lovers, such as Sarandson’s Dr. Roberts, as sexual objects. In turn, Dr. Roberts is often portrayed as powerless in the relationship between the two, as she is trapped within Miriam’s vampiric spell. Miriam’s vampirism is used as both a justification for Dr. Roberts’ attraction, as well as a weapon she uses to physically harm others; she is the villain.The film also capitalizes on the explicit sexualization of lesbian sex, the opposite of its portrayal in Daughters of Darkness. Director Harry Kümel shared in a discussion of the film that it was his intention to “be ambiguous rather than to overtly represent engaging, homosexual relationships on screen… how the story is told visually rather than literally” (Broadhead).

 

Kümel utilizes costumes to encode meaning to his characters, highlighting their sexuality and social status’ in an implicit way. Typically, the lesbian vampire is dressed in revealing clothes or a lack thereof. The Countess in Daughters of Darkness, however, is dressed in stylish and full coverage gowns, glamorous garments of fur, velvet, and sequins. We never see her naked: in comparison, we see both Stefan and Valerie nude. The clothing choices made for the Countess portray her as desirable but not overtly sexual, and they also suggest that she is of higher social status than both Valerie and Stefan. While abusive power dynamics are often common in harmful stereotypes of lesbians, the power difference between Elizabeth and Valerie is not used as a weapon in Elizabeth’s arsenal, but rather inferred through her appearance. Once again, it is Stefan who utilizes power differences and physical violence to hold control over Valerie.

 

This is why I chose Daughters of Darkness as my focus; while it is not perfect, it presents an arguably more positive representation of women who love women than other films of the subgenre. While The Hunger falls into stereotypes that alleviate the fears of the time, Daughters of Darkness instead gives us a stylish and arguably feminist interpretation of the lesbian vampire trope. Terry Castle explains that “The lesbian, is never with us, it seems, but always somewhere else: in the shadows, in the margins, hidden from history, out of sight, out of mind, a wanderer in the dusk, a lost soul, a tragic mistake, a pale denizen of the night” (Westengard,134). The lesbian, like the vampire, is often hidden from and marginalized by society due to the predatory nature they are given. As a lesbian, one of my greatest fears is being seen as predatory;it almost makes me want to hide that part of who I am in public spaces. Non-predatory representation is not only important to those who identify themselves as lesbians, but it is incredibly helpful in shaping public perception to be more accepting to us. Countess Elizabeth is stylish, glamorous, and sophisticated; if she were the vampire knocking at your door, wouldn’t you let her in?

 

References

“Daughters of Darkness.” Ciné Vog Films, 1971.

 

Broadhead, Samantha, et al. “Viewing Daughters of Darkness Through the Lens of Queer Fear.” Senses of Cinema, 4 Aug. 2023, www.sensesofcinema.com/2023/pride-on-the-margins/viewing-daughters-of-darkness -through-the-lens-of-queer-fear/. Accessed 07 Dec. 2024.

 

Westengard, Laura. “Queer Horror.” The Cambridge Companion to American Horror (2022): 120.

 

Zimmerman, Bonnie. “Daughters of Darkness Lesbian Vampires.” Lesbian Vampires by Bonnie Zimmerman, Jump Cut: A Review of Contemporary Media, Mar. 1981, www.ejumpcut.org/archive/onlinessays/JC24-25folder/LesbianVampires.html. Accessed 27 Nov. 2024.

License

Icon for the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License

Difference, Power, and Discrimination in Film and Media: Student Essays Copyright © by Students at Linn-Benton Community College is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License, except where otherwise noted.

Share This Book