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Horror Movies

FRIGHT NIGHT Explained: A Look Back at Tom Holland’s Horror

Fright Night, a horror comedy that became a box office hit, where traditional vampire traits clash with modern suburban values.

Krzysztof Walecki

5 February 2025

FRIGHT NIGHT Explained: A Look Back at Tom Holland's Horror

Before Tom Holland (not to be confused with the actor portraying Disney’s Spider-Man) became a director—today known above all as the creator of the original Chucky doll (and Fright Night)—he made a name for himself as a talented screenwriter of horror films and thrillers. In the first half of the 1980s, he wrote The Incubus, a dark story reminiscent of Lovecraft, Class of 1984, a brutal tale of a deadly conflict between a teacher and punk students, and Psycho II, a surprisingly successful sequel to Hitchcock’s masterpiece. In the latter film, we were left unsure whether we could truly trust the supposedly cured Norman Bates, who still felt the presence of his “mother” and around whom people once again started to die—it was easier to attribute this to his mental illness than to the actions of third parties. In the less popular Cloak & Dagger, Scream for Help, and the later horror film about a psychopathic doll, Holland also chose protagonists who had access to certain secrets but whom no one believed. It is no surprise that he used this same framework in his directorial debut.

Fright Night, Amanda Bearse, William Ragsdale

A teenage boy, Charley Brewster, discovers that his new neighbor is a vampire—this is the basic premise of Fright Night, the wildly popular horror comedy that became a summer box office hit in 1985. Of course, at first, no one believes the boy (played by William Ragsdale as a likable everyman), especially after meeting the handsome and charming Jerry Dandrige (a delightfully playful Chris Sarandon), a distant echo of the bald Nosferatu or the cape-clad Dracula. As more victims of the bloodsucker pile up and the danger to Charley grows, he turns for help to… a television host, a former star of gothic horror films, Peter Vincent (Roddy McDowall, playing the role with the perfect mix of warmth, irony, and fear).

Fright Night, Amanda Bearse, Chris Sarandon

In a decade dominated by an endless stream of slashers, when vampire cinema had all but disappeared (the now-cult The Hunger, released just two years earlier, had flopped in theaters), the success of Holland’s film was significant. One only has to recall that throughout the 1970s, vampires had been relegated to the margins of the genre—it was difficult to take seriously the increasingly bizarre horror films from Hammer Studios, the Blaxploitation take Blacula, or the outright parody Love at First Bite. George A. Romero’s Martin was too niche to make an impression on audiences, while the well-received Dracula starring Frank Langella only reinforced the belief that the vampire was a relic of the past. Fright Night, however, brought vampires back into fashion, and most importantly, successfully placed them in the contemporary world of its creators.

Fright Night, Roddy McDowall, Chris Sarandon

Dandrige is not exactly a modern monster we have never seen before. In fact, the more we get to know him, the more his traditional traits stand out—he sleeps in a coffin, casts no reflection, transforms into a bat, and is vulnerable to holy water, wooden stakes, and sunlight. Dressed in a gray leather coat and a red scarf, he evokes the image of an aristocratic vampire incarnation, but once he removes these garments, he transforms into a middle-aged yuppie who indulges in luxury prostitutes and shares a home with another man (Jonathan Stark as Billy Cole, neither fully vampire nor fully human) with whom he has a relationship that is never explicitly named. The arrival of such a figure in a typical American suburb—a place that upholds traditional values—naturally creates tension. It is somewhat unfortunate that Holland introduces Dandrige as a vampire almost immediately. One could argue that even if Jerry weren’t a bloodsucker, he would still be an intriguing neighbor for the teenage Charley.

Fright Night, Amanda Bearse

It is no wonder that, next to a character like Jerry, the young protagonists are not as interesting, though they gain some depth precisely because of their interactions with the vampire. When we first meet Charley, he is on the verge of sleeping with his girlfriend, Amy. Initially, she hesitates, but just when she finally undresses and waits in bed for him, he becomes more engrossed in watching his new neighbors carry a coffin into their house in the middle of the night. The interplay of love and death is even more pronounced by the horror movie playing in the background, inspired by Dracula (we hear the names of the characters—Jonathan and Nina), with Peter Vincent as the vampire hunter. Charley is not particularly interested in the film as long as he can fool around with his girlfriend, but when faced with a choice between her and a real horror unfolding outside, Amy is pushed aside. Only when Dandrige becomes interested in her—seeing her as the reincarnation of his lost love—does Charley realize his mistake.

Fright Night, Chris Sarandon

The best scenes in the film are those where the vampire teases the teenagers, exploiting their sexual curiosity. First, he tempts Charley with a scene straight out of Body Double (I intentionally reference De Palma’s film rather than Hitchcock’s Rear Window due to its erotic boldness), staging a peep-show for the boy. This is not what Brewster expected when he began spying on his neighbor, and when he sees Jerry undressing a prostitute, he is visibly aroused. His excitement quickly fades, however, when Jerry flashes his fangs while grinning directly at him. Accompanied by Brad Fiedel’s atmospheric music, this scene portrays the vampire as someone who understands what the teenager desires—even better than the boy himself.

Fright Night, Amanda Bearse, Stephen Geoffreys

The same dynamic applies to Amy and Evil Ed, Charley’s schoolmate. Dandrige treats Amy as a real woman in the most quintessentially ’80s moment of the film—fleeing from the vampire, the young characters take refuge in a nightclub (the same set where Frankie Goes to Hollywood filmed the Relax music video in Body Double), where Jerry, now coatless and scarf-free, steps onto the dance floor in a sweatshirt, exposing his neck and pulling Amy into a dance. At one point, she takes the lead, despite being in a seemingly hypnotized state (raising the question of whether this is a realization of her desires or something more sinister—though, to be fair, vampires never play fair). From this moment onward, Amanda Bearse’s performance comes to life, making Amy seem less juvenile.

Fright Night, Stephen Geoffreys

Ed, on the other hand, is transformed by Jerry into one of his own, convinced that he no longer has to be the outcast at school. Holland never provides earlier indications that Ed is bullied, but thanks to Stephen Geoffreys’ convincing performance, I can believe that he willingly accepts Dandrige’s offer rather than being forced into it. Geoffreys, throughout the film, exudes manic energy, bringing humor simply through his presence (a decade later, Matthew Lillard would achieve a similar effect in Scream). Strangely, Jerry never considers turning Charley into a vampire—this idea would only come up in the sequel, released three years later and directed by Tommy Lee Wallace.

Fright Night, Amanda Bearse, Chris Sarandon, Stephen Geoffreys, William Ragsdale

Holland struggled for a long time with the direction of his script until the character of Peter Vincent was born in his mind. Even his name suggests a connection to two horror icons—Peter Cushing and Vincent Price. However, Fright Night’s Vincent was never a true star, and now, as the host of a television show, he is merely a parody of his former self. An aging actor who took on the pseudonym of his own character, forever dressed in a costume from his past films, desperately trying to hide the fact that he no longer matters. He agrees to help Charley for money, as even television has cast him aside (“People prefer watching lunatics chasing virgins”). And yet, this phony vampire hunter—brilliantly played by the perpetually pale McDowall—ends up being the right man for the job in the battle against a very real bloodsucker.

Fright Night, Amanda Bearse

Thus, Holland ultimately embraces tradition—it offers security, tames fear, and unites Charley and Amy (it is no coincidence that Vincent’s show is always playing in the background during their romantic moments). Ultimately, it provides the answer to everything—including how to kill a vampire. Ironically, every classic cinematic method proves effective.

All these elements come together to create one of the most satisfying horror films of the 1980s, a film that made vampires fashionable again—just look at The Lost Boys, Near Dark, and later, the 1990s productions Bram Stoker’s Dracula and Interview with the Vampire. I enjoy returning to Fright Night because even 40 years after its release, it still surprises with its fresh approach to the subject. It takes the figure of the vampire, places it in an unusual setting, equips it with characteristics that make the bloodsucker feel contemporary, and then, in a manner typical of that decade—through extensive use of practical effects, most notably the superbly crafted demonic grin that also adorns the film’s poster—ensures that there is never a dull moment.

Fright Night, Chris Sarandon

Above all, it is the Sarandon and McDowall show—the former exudes (or rather dominates with) eroticism and menace, while the latter provides an unexpected counterbalance, offering nervous comedic energy and aiming for a sentimental tone. This was missing in the decent 2011 remake, where Vincent’s character is reimagined as a Las Vegas showman; I must admit, that would not be my first choice of where to seek help in fighting a vampire. On the other hand, even Holland’s original film asks us to suspend disbelief multiple times, including the moment when Charley is convinced that a TV show host might actually know something about killing a real-life bloodsucker. But then again, the 1980s in American cinema had a very different mentality.

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