'Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter' denies origin and legacy of slavery
The film wishes away responsibility for America鈥檚 most horrific events, because no one is to blame for these tragedies but vampires. America should examine its appetite for this fantasy, when Hollywood transforms the most eloquent statesmen into an axe-wielding action hero.
Anthony Mackie portrays Will Johnson, left, and Benjamin Walker portrays Abraham Lincoln in a scene from "Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter." Op-ed contributor Jackie Hogan says the film 'may not have been designed to teach us much about history, but it reveals uncomfortable truths about the present state of our nation 鈥� its smack-down politics...its unwillingness to tackle issues too complex to be solved by a silver bullet.'
Alan Markfield/20th Century Fox/AP/File
Peoria, Ill.
Reviews of the would-be summer blockbuster 鈥�Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter鈥� have been as chilly as a vampire鈥檚 embrace. While most criticisms focus on the film鈥檚 humorless, disjointed script, its over-the-top computer-generated effects, its patchy production values, and its fetishized carnage, there has been little discussion of the film鈥檚 narrative substance.
At first glance, the film鈥檚 central premise 鈥� that Honest Abe was actually our nation鈥檚 foremost slayer of the undead 鈥� appears merely silly, harmless, maybe even clever. Certainly Seth Grahame-Smith鈥檚 novel and script weave fact and fantasy together in inventive and entertaining ways. But on closer inspection, the film鈥檚 themes are more deeply disturbing than its slow-mo decapitations and blood-soaked action sequences.
At its heart, the film wishes away responsibility for some of America鈥檚 most tragic and horrific chapters 鈥� the frontier slaughter of Native Americans, the abomination of slavery, the anguished violence of the Civil War. In the alternative reality created by the filmmakers, no one is to blame for these horrors 鈥� at least no human is to blame 鈥� because vampires actually orchestrated all of these bloody episodes and more.
In this imaginative reworking of history, the Civil War isn鈥檛 about abolishing slavery or preserving the union or even states鈥� rights. Rather, it is Lincoln鈥檚 heroic effort to prevent slave-trading vampires from turning America into an empire of the undead. And when the 16th president signs the Emancipation Proclamation, it is not so much to set an enslaved people free as it is to deprive the Confederate vampire soldiers of their sustenance, the blood of their captives. Slavery is only a secondary injustice here, a convenient, if unfortunate, means to the vampires鈥� more sinister ends.
Let me say that I realize that 鈥淎braham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter鈥� is a work of fantastical fiction, and we aren鈥檛 meant to take it literally. Yet fiction is so powerful precisely because it taps into our deepest desires and fears. So what does it say about us, as an audience, as a nation, that we have an appetite for films that deny both the origins of slavery and its enduring legacy? What does it say when our popular culture trivializes the brutal trade in human flesh? (鈥淲e鈥檙e all slaves to something,鈥� as Lincoln鈥檚 vampire nemesis reminds us.)
What does it say about society that Hollywood transforms one of the most eloquent statesmen in our nation鈥檚 history into a brawny, axe-wielding action hero with kung fu moves to rival Bruce Lee鈥檚? And what does it say that such a film has grossed more than $36.8 million?
鈥淎braham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter鈥� may not have been designed to teach us much about history, but it reveals uncomfortable truths about the present state of our nation 鈥� its smack-down politics, its embrace of bellicosity, its impatience with measured argument, and its unwillingness to tackle issues too complex to be solved by a silver bullet.
Jackie Hogan is chair of the sociology department at Bradley University in Peoria, Ill. and author of 鈥淟incoln, Inc.: Selling the Sixteenth President in Contemporary America.鈥�