Frostbite

Anders Banke’s Frostbite has plenty of gushing blood, out-of-control teenage vampires and a massacred family pet, or two.

Photo credit NonStop Sales

The opening scene takes place in the Ukrainian wilds, toward the end of World War II. Swedish, Finnish and German soldiers fighting together as SS volunteers, march aimlessly through snow and ice, fleeing the Red Army. They take refuge in a cabin that turns out to house something they can’t fight with guns.

Next we are in present times, in a small town in the north of Sweden, during the polar night, when the sun doesn’t rise for a month. Vampires, demons from the past, darkness, you see where this is going, no?

A young girl and her mother have recently moved to this small town. The mother is a doctor, set to work at the local hospital. It soon becomes clear that strange things are afoot. At the hospital the sinister head doctor has a mystery “private patient” in a coma. And something undead seems to lurk in the bushes. When an intern at the hospital steals a box of mysterious blood-red pills, all hell breaks loose. Literally.

There are some great visual puns, and a few verbal ones too, in this good old-fashioned gore fest. I could go on about fears of uncontrollable teenage sexuality and unprocessed Swedish war guilt, or something along those lines. But then perhaps sometimes a vampire is just a vampire.