Bloodless Countess

The legend of Countess Erzésbet Báthory holds a special place in the hearts of Goths, metal-heads, and vampire enthusiasts alike, with only Vlad Draculea being more revered. The 16^th century noblewoman was one of the most powerful aristocrats in Hungary, and reportedly harboured a dark secret. In 1610 she was accused of the murder of over 600 young women and bricked up in a room of her castle until her death in 1614. Since then legends have sprung up detailing the countess’ penchant for bathing in the blood of virgins, an attempt to keep her young and beautiful forever. Historically speaking the evidence of this, and even the murders, is pretty slim, but that hasn’t stopped her from entering the pop cultural as a Vampiric serial killer, with Hammer Studios reinventing her as Countess Dracula in 1971, and the black metal band Cradle of Filth dedicating their 1998 concept album Cruelty and the Beast to her legend.

Juraj Jakubisko’s movie Bathory (2008) initially sets out to readdress the balance with a historically accurate retelling of the countess’ life, however this soon goes out the window in favour of a picturesquely gothic tragedy. In the film, Bathory (played, with a sexy eastern European accent, by Anna Friel) is a benevolent renaissance woman, with a talent for healing, and an interest in anatomy. While her brutish husband is away fighting the Turks, she protects the chastity of her maids and household from overenthusiastic soldiers. So far, so plausible. However things quickly take a turn for the ridiculous. A romantic subplot is introduced where the blood countess has an affair with an imprisoned Milanese painter, who then turns out to be Caravaggio.

Jakubisko decides to throw all pretence of historical accuracy to the wind, and we end up with a film with all the factual merit of its Hammer predecessor. The story is narrated by a Catholic monk, who posits that the religious and political establishments turn against Erzésbet to seize control of her land and wealth, but that isn’t really important when the film is also asserting that the Countess was an early surgeon and coroner, and that the Church invented the photograph several hundred years before the French did.

If the films plot is weak (and it is) it does at least make up for it a bit with the visuals. The films lush cinematography highlights the baroque set pieces, the sumptuous gothic costumes (which includes a gorgeous Venetian ball scene), and the stunning Hungarian countryside (although in actuality it was filmed in Slovakia and the Czech Republic).

Bathory isn’t going to change people’s perceptions of the supposed serial killer; it will at least prove a guilty pleasure for fans of Goth melodrama and so-called bodice rippers.