Comrade Drakulich – review

Director: Márk Bodzsár

Release date: 2019

Contains spoilers

Hungary was the source of one of the oldest (and unfortunately lost) vampire films in the form of Drakula Halála and was the birthplace of Bela Lugosi, of course, who gave us the arguably most iconic form of Dracula. From a media point of view Hungary’s legacy in the vampire genre is, with these two things, absolutely secured.

Drakulics Elvtárs, as this film is known in Hungary, is a satire that looks at the socialist/soviet era of Hungarian history using the lens of vampirism. It is set in 1972 and we enter a world of secret police and political orders coming from Moscow.

orders from Moscow

It starts with a flash forward into the film. We hear a voiceover from secret police-woman Mária Magyar (Lili Walters) who tells us that as a child she wanted to live forever but in kindergarten she learnt that only vampires do not die and then that only communist ideology is eternal. She, however, is not having a good day and we see her being shot and falling… The film takes us back two weeks and the General Secretary of the Hungarian Socialist Workers' Party János Kádár (Roland Rába) is receiving a phone call from Moscow (translated by his secretary). After being warned that the contents are entirely confidential, and a threat of ricin poisoning to his wife, he is told that he has two weeks to discover eternal life (later we are told it is for the ill Brezhnev).

the neighbour

Elsewhere, Mária is in bed with her lover and police partner László Kun (Ervin Nagy) – the noise from their sexual antics a source of amusement for their elderly neighbours who live downstairs. We then see them at the secret police headquarters where they are training recruits in surveillance. A tannoy announces that class is cancelled and they are called to their boss Esvégh (Szabolcs Thuróczy). They are given a briefing on Hungarian hero Fábián (Zsolt Nagy), he was born in 1910, handed out leaflets with János Kádár as students and fought with the communists in Cuba in 1956 and then moved to America.

Lili Walters as Mária

The 62-year-old is a UN ambassador for blood-drives and is a guest-of-honour for the Hungarian blood-drive for Vietnam. They are also told that in Cuba he developed a rare skin disease, margarita photodermatitis, making him sensitive to the sun – this is a real condition but is actually when a plant compound (commonly lime) in contact with the skin causes sensitivity. The officers are only told that they are to ascertain if, having lived in America, Fábián is friend to the regime. He is given the codename Crimson and the officers are Falcon (László) and Birdy (Mária). Mária is to pose as his liaison and László lead surveillance. However, he becomes more and more jealous as the case unfolds and Mária is expected to become friendlier to get Fábián to open up.

Fábián arrives

When he arrives, driving an American car, he seems too young, but his old comrades remember him. He develops a taste for a raspberry soda (which he replaces with blood, of course) and the first bits of lore we pick up, as Kádár personally questions women who have been in contact with Fábián, includes a supposition of an aversion to crosses (mounted in a cigarette case), holy water and garlic (all of which prove accurate). Meanwhile our secret police officers begin to suspect what Fábián is and get their lore from a book on vampires (entitled the Lake of the Vampire) and watching Blacula.

watching the sunrise

Fábián watches the sunrise with Mária by wrapping a towel around his head and wearing shades. He has a sensitive sense of smell, smelling the aroma of sausage from behind a  brick wall (it’s the garlic in it) and a cigarette being lit from an impossible distance away. The film doesn’t explain whether it was the smell of garlic or consumption of alcohol and bread that causes him to profusely vomit. He confesses to having told Zsa Zsa Gabor the secret of his youthful looks and we hear later that vampires can fly, but it makes them hungry. A trading of blood is needed to turn someone.

blood consumption

This was fun and well photographed, though whilst some of the humour was universal, I suspect the satire means more to someone who lived through the regime (or whose family did). The lead performances worked really well and the idea of no-one truly knowing why they were doing what they were doing ran true. The film didn’t explain why Fábián would return home where his youthfulness would be obvious, indeed he was drawn colourfully against the communist drab, a man who wanted to jive and drive his American car. Perhaps he just missed Hungary – the film remains silent though. Of course there are readings of what he and his vampirism represents, and the impact his presence has on the two police officers especially, and I hope this will have the film drawn into academic study. 7 out of 10.

The imdb page is here.