Writer-director Romero leaves Martin's true status up in the air. At times the boy is convinced that he is the monster Tata Cuda believes him to be, seeing himself in sepia flashbacks as a Count Dracula-like vampire eluding angry villagers. Other times he seems able to differentiate fantasy from reality, as when he tells his grandfather "There's no magic." For the most part, Martin is shown to be a severely troubled teenager with deadly psychosexual problems, a nightmare version of the kid next door whose only way of relating to attractive women is by drinking their blood. At times, Martin's condition is compared to drug addiction, though the horror of vampirism is shown to pale by comparison to the brutality of a police raid on a den of drug dealers.
Combining the well-worn elements of countless horror films with the harsh realities of life in a depressed contemporary industrial city, Romero creates a resonant, multifaceted, and, at times, surprisingly lyrical film that works both as insightful social commentary and as a fascinating rumination on the conventions of the genre. Well worth a look for anyone with even a passing interest in horror, and essential viewing for serious fright fans. Romero himself appears as a priest and Savini plays the fiance of Martin's cousin.
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