The Invitation
Ever since Bram Stoker’s Dracula entered the public domain in the early ‘60s, all kinds of artists tried to transform and adapt the epistolary novel to the modern age: whether the count is fighting Britain’s most famous detective in Sherlock Holmes vs Dracula, sucking on hippies and Satanists in Dracula A.D. 1972, or getting his own revised origin story in the video game duology Dracula: Origin and Dracula: Love Kills. There are all manners of different takes on one of literature’s most iconic characters. However, the versions that tend to fail are those that take him away from his setting. There is a reason why Steven Moffat’s and Mark Gatiss’ three-episode Netflix show works when it takes place in 1890s’ Transylvania and not in 2020s’ London, where Claes Bang’s count uses dating apps to lure new victims.
While saying that Jessica M. Thompson’s new film, The Invitation, is a new take on Stoker’s novel could be seen as a major spoiler, it is the only truly interesting and unique thing the film has going for it. The marketing team is well aware too, since they spoiled the entire movie from the first trailer onward. In its first half, The Invitation plays like a vampiric version of Get Out: Evie Alexander, a young black woman (Nathalie Emmanuel), is invited by an unknown cousin to attend a wedding in the English countryside. Surrounded by pale white men, creepy white women, and people of color designated as the help, she soon finds herself at the centre of everyone’s attention, especially the charming and seductive owner of the mansion, Walter De Ville (Thomas Doherty). All throughout, Evie stays in touch with her best friend Grace (Courtney Taylor), the main comic relief and clear female version of Lil Rel Howery from Jordan Peele’s award-winning thriller.
Right from that premise, and knowing that The Invitation is a vampire tale, there is little to no real mystery to uncover. A crying shame, considering that the film lives and dies on this reveal, despite barely trying to conceal what is going on from the very opening scene. There is nothing subtle in the script, from the derivative use of the surname De Ville – as banal as “Louis Cyphre” in 1987’s Angel Heart – to predictable scenes of Evie cutting her finger and someone licking the blood off it. The attempts at straightforward horror ring hollow, with silhouettes hidden away in the darkness that pull unsuspecting victims in lacking any sort of originality to the way they are tackled.
The Invitation is a classic example of a film that should have embraced the consequences of its twist more than the set-up. Once the central conspiracy is made clear, the film turns dark and bloody very quickly, injecting new-found life into its narrative that is exhilarating to watch unfold. This is when Nathalie Emmanuel gets to have more agency, to actually flex her acting muscles rather than spouting faux-clever dialogue. This is also when the film shows how much potential its themes held, weaving elements of British colonialism and cultural heritage that, unfortunately, never really amount to anything.
What ultimately saves The Invitation from being a total failure, and something worth watching for fans of the bloodsucking creatures of the night, is its atmosphere. The Neo-Gothic castle of Nádasdy in Hungary serves as a great exterior for the action, and the interiors are beautifully detailed and finely crafted, a throwback to Universal horror films that intentionally makes Evie’s journey feel like a trip to the past. Once the main horror is revealed is also when more grotesque imagery, complex costumes, and creepy rooms are unveiled. There are also some truly bizarre connections to Stoker’s Dracula that reach the level of fan fiction, something that will definitely appeal to a minority of viewers but enrage others.
Overall, The Invitation is a mild disappointment and a wasted opportunity. It takes much too long to get to what the writer-director actually cared about, and once it does it is all over way too quickly. Nathalie Emmanuel is a solid lead and her romantic chemistry with Thomas Doherty salvages some of the duller sequences, though the angle of gothic romance – a love letter to Stoker’s book – is drawn too thin for its own good. If possible, the Unrated version is the recommended method of viewing, as it restores some deliciously gory moments that add much-needed impact to its final act. A compelling enough viewing experience for those that love vampire literature but do not particularly like scary cinema.