THE LAIR OF THE WHITE WORM (1988)

 

PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *irony*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical, psychological*

I'm not sure whether or not I'd read Bram Stoker's THE LAIR OF THE WHITE WORM-- which I reviewed here within the last year-- when I saw Ken Russell's adaptation (both as writer and director) of that book. I tend to think that I had, though. I seem to remember having a reasonably positive opinion of the book, and I didn't like Russell's overly jokey and flamboyant take on that material. However, since in the aforementioned review I was much more aware of the novel's shortcomings, I wondered if the movie would improve with (my) age.

I was at least pleased to see that in one quote I located on the 'net, Russell was very open about the comedic nature of his LAIR, given that he said:

"I would like to state that I actively encourage the audience to laugh along with White Worm."

However, LAIR really is not a comedy as such, whose appeal lies in the incongruity of gags and sudden reversals. The movie is superficially faithful to the basic menace of a supernormal serpent-creature, but Russell constantly undercuts the potential seriousness of the situation with wry remarks and overbaked imagery. I find it easier to understand Russell's LAIR as an irony, as a work in which all the participants-- both the monster and the monster-fighters-- are at base absurd.

The Wikipedia essay on the film mentions that the director originally wanted to adapt DRACULA, but for various reasons ended up taking on Stoker's final novel. His recorded remarks make clear that he perceived many of the flaws in the Stoker work, and some of his alterations are improvements. 

The first good change is that, while the novel has too many characters, Russell cuts them down to five types derived partly from the book and partly from DRACULA: a monster (Amanda Donohue), an earnest young man ( a very young Hugh Grant), a source of arcane knowledge (Peter Capaldi), a visionary female (Catherine Oxenberg) and a practical female (Sammi Davis). The second is that, whereas Stoker was confusing as to what his serpent-woman is, Russell is clearer in saying that his monster is the immortal pagan priestess of a snake-cult, and that she's been hanging around for centuries waiting for a chance to revive a titanic serpent-creature. The third improvement is more mixed, for though I complained in my review that Stoker had elided his concept's strong potential for sexual transgression, Russell piles the sexy weirdness on so heavily that it becomes dumb rather than intriguing-- which may have been Russell's intention.

One strong resemblance between LAIR and its source material, though, is that both are loosely plotted at best. Russell tightens things up somewhat, but it's still a pretty long slog, waiting for the clueless innocents to figure out the nature of the monstrous presence in their midst and her evil scheme. Russell's script doesn't really explain too well why serpent-priestess Sylvia (Donohue) has waited so long to attempt her sacrifice, or why it's particularly felicitous that her sacrifice Eve Trent (Oxenberg) is the reincarnation of some ancient Christian nun, one of an order who transgressed upon the pagan temple Sylvia once served. The reincarnation angle merely provides Russell with an excuse for a gory mass-rape scene, as Roman soldiers despoil all the nuns (but somehow aren't able to protect the pagan serpent-shrine). Similarly, there can be little doubt that Russell was referencing Judeo-Christian lore when he renamed the female cousins from the book "Eve" and "Mary." But it's not a very deep reference: Mary Trent really doesn't have anything to do with the virgin mother of Jesus (except insofar as Russell's script tosses around a lot of references to virginity), and Eve Trent is only Eve-like in being in an acrimonious relationship with a serpent.

It's not that surprising that the four ordinary humans are flat characters: viewers of horror films are fairly accustomed to such simplistic types. But Russell could have wrung some interesting moments out of an immortal pagan priestess had he been concerned with anything more than superficial absurdity. Despite some moments of LAIR that suggest Russell's engagement with the flawed mythopoesis of the Stoker work, his self-indulgence undercuts that potential as much he undercuts the seriousness of his protagonists' travails. I don't hate it the way I did before, but it's a curiosity at best.