Gothic cinema is hard to define. Certainly there’s an existing iconographic tradition that encourages castles, ghosts and bad weather, but there aren’t any hoary plot points to direct storytellers. In fact, the plot isn’t even important according to Renee Balcombe, the producer of the indie gothic horror flick at the heart of Jonathan Raab’s latest novel. “Atmosphere is all that matters, tone and color. Vibe over verisimilitude,” she says.

Gothic horror is an expression of anxiety-ridden id, continues Balcombe. “What we’re trying to do,” she explains, “is produce an extended mood piece punctuated by thrilling, decadent explosions of color, fog, practical effects and blood. Plot is for brain-dead YouTube film critics pointing out logical inconsistencies in works that operate beyond logic.”

Most importantly for Balcombe and her crew, Hierarchies of Blood is a movie that’s attempting to capture the physical world and the spiritual world on 35mm film stock. It’s been done before, of course, films made in concert with occult and supernatural forces. They call it Cinéma Goblin.

That’s why the film crew (consisting of a small group of theater kids and art weirdoes) sets up camp deep in the woods of New York’s Fingers Lake region. The area reportedly has a connection to otherworldly forces and is arguably the most gothic place in the U.S. “Proximity to certain elements can alter things,” says Balcombe. “Reality itself becomes more pliable. Magic—real magic—is easier to perform.” In other words, it’s the perfect place to receive transmissions from the goblin world. 

And that’s exactly what happens. The filmmakers rouse an ancient vampire and his monster minions, and find themselves fighting a nightly battle in multiple realities. Their weapons of choice include wooden stakes, holy water, movie cameras, tape recorders and Tungsten flood lights. 

Interspersed throughout the monster mayhem is a lot of jibber-jabber about the power and influence of cinema. None of it is unwelcome because Raab’s enthusiasm for his subject is articulate and never-waning. Filmmakers are masters of manipulating light, sound and shadow, he says. Imagine what kind of movie they could make if they went beyond the simple tools they’ve been using for a hundred years. Cinéma Fantastique is that idea. An evolution of the art by harnessing forces that predate Auguste and Louis Lumière, that predate modernity. 

For added insight into their situation, the production crew occasionally hunker down to smoke cosmic cannabis and watch Cinéma Goblin in the basement of an abandoned castle. Raab’s account of these movies is first-rate. “This is how the spell is cast,” he says. “This is how we remake the world.”

[ Project Vampire Killer / By Jonathan Raab / First Printing: June 2023 / ISBN: 9798987968802 ]