I am the Count
I am Count Richard Marnack (centre), and I appear in the film BLOODSUCKER LEADS THE DANCE (LA SANGUISUGA CONDUCE LA DANSE (1975). And yes, I am a little depressed. Is it that obvious?
Perhaps it’s to do with whichever anonymous thesp is voicing me in the English language version. Perhaps Giacomo Rossi Stuart, who plays me on screen, originally sounded perkier. Although with that Scottish surname, maybe he’s gloomy too. My English-language voice sounds heavily medicated, to be perfectly frank. But all the voices in this film are a little zany — maybe the dubbing artists were sending the whole thing up. There are also hints that, in its original language, the film may have been more of a sex comedy spoof giallo than a sincere gothic melo — but somebody forgot to translate any jokes or write new ones.
But you’d have to admit I have reason to be uncheerful. As a count in a horror film, especially one called BLOODSUCKER LEADS THE DANCE, I naturally fall under suspicion after inviting a theatre troupe to my island castle, when someone starts decapitating them. Not all counts are vampires, okay? Let’s at least question that stereotype. I may have lots of sepulchral stories about my family members killing each other with a special dagger, and then leaping to their deaths from the highest tower in the castle (the second highest would be just as likely to result in fatality, if you ask me). That doesn’t mean I’m the killer. Heredity doesn’t usually apply to murder, if you actually investigate these things. Not that I’ve investigated these things. I don’t actually spend all my time thinking about murder.
And I’m sincerely sorry that I’ve been unable to alert the authorities after the first killing. The fact that the sea has been whipped to a deadly foment by a raging thunderstorm prevents all contact with the mainland. If it were a regular storm it would be bad enough, but it’s a black and white storm. No way I’m taking the boat out in that. If it were tinted blue, at least, maybe. But have you seen the size of that grain?
I don’t know. I try to be nice, I take in a bunch of bed-hopping indigent hams, and just because somebody starts hacking their heads off, suddenly I’m the bad guy?