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We all know folks who have gone into the family business, claiming that their careers are "in their blood." Does science to support the notion that one's career path can be influenced by genetics? The vampires in the 1962 film "Samson vs. The Vampire Women" seem to think so. Propelled by a prophesy (and their Vampire Queen), they're determined to promote Diana from piano-playing ingénue to evil incarnate on the basis of her lineage. Fortunately, the good guys can pass down their talents too, and masked wrestler Samson is marked to join his forebears in guarding the innocent from the damned.
In the original Spanish-language version, "Santos vs. Los Mujeres Vampiro," Samson is El Santo – the Saint. The Mexican horror film taps into the popularity of lucho libre ("free fight"), the style of professional wrestling in which contenders battle for two out of three falls, often while wearing colorful masks. The film's hero is none other than a real-life luchador named El Santo, also known as the Silver Maskman. He first appeared in the early Forties and wore his mask both in and out of the ring until the Eighties. (It's said that no one ever saw him without the mask and that he even wore it into his grave.) Indeed, El Santo was a popular folk hero whose noble, if fanciful, exploits were depicted in comic books as well as movies.
The juxtapositioning of Samson's glittering cape and tightly fitted mask with the gothic horror props (bats, torches hanging on castle walls, cobweb draperies, etc.) is part of this film's delightful quirkiness, though if we're tempted to laugh at how the villains fight like luchadores, we might consider it a glimpse into how today's kickboxing heroes and villains are likely to be perceived by generations to come. It's worth noting that "Vampire Women" was directed by award-winner Alfonso Corona Blake. He followed "Vampire Women" with "Samson In The Wax Museum" shortly after.
Folks with an interest in Gender and Cultural Studies may watch "Samson and the Vampire Women" with particular interest for the gender-charged morality at which this narrative gestures. The spooky undead vampires are granted the illusion of beauty for more successful luring of men to their dooms. Tandra (Ofelia Montesco), right-hand vamp to the Queen herself, intones in the beginning: "All men are addicted to corruption…they have permitted us all to awaken and call out the monsters that reside in the depths." At the end, we are to believe it is Samson's nobility as much as his wrestling prowess that has enabled him to defeat the minions of hell—but what of the innocent Diana and the ancestor who was also rescued from an unwanted career in depth-dwelling? She trances or faints whenever Tandra's corrupting influence draws too near. Thank heavens she has big, strong, goodguy Samson around!
