Arthouse vampires

Vampire films don’t come much artier or Afrocentric than Ganja & Hess, the 1973 independent horror-drama film written and directed by Bill Gunn. Celebrated as a groundbreaking work of Black American cinema that transforms the vampire myth into an allegory of addiction, spirituality, and race, the narrative concerns Dr. Hess Green (played by Duane Jones), a wealthy anthropologist who becomes immortal and addicted to blood after being stabbed with an ancient African ceremonial dagger by his troubled assistant George Meda (Bill Gunn). When George’s wife Ganja Meda (Marlene Clark) arrives searching for her husband, she and Hess fall into a passionate, destructive relationship that culminates in her sharing his cursed condition.

To hear a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of Ganja & Hess, conducted last week, click here (if you encounter an error, simply try refreshing the page).

This picture is surprising, memorable, and innovative in several ways. It serves as a captivating sensory experience, using what the critics call “haptic visualization,” in which we are meant to imagine the tactile sensations the characters feel. What’s more, the three main characters – Hess, Ganja, and Meda – aren’t predictable or conventional. We can’t always guess their motivations or intentions. And it’s not a typical Blaxploitation film from this era in which the filmmakers employ ample titillation, violence, and stereotypical characters.

The narrative is fragmented, with unconventional editing, disjointed visuals, unresolved plot points, and avant-garde sensibilities. The story is also segmented into different chapters with titles. The sound design is quite unique, employing an unsettling home as well as an African sung chant that signifies Hess’s thirst for blood.

There’s a strong focus on sexuality, “but Gunn avoids portraying Black sexuality as carnal or primal, as many Hollywood and even Blacksploitation films did at the time. He presents Ganja and Hess as what scholar Marlowe D. David calls erratic subjects free of Otherness,” according to Deep Focus Review essayist Brian Eggert. The lovemaking scenes are visually interesting, artistically executed, and affectingly sensual without being exploitative. Recall how the coupling between Ganja and her younger victim is often presented out of focus (it’s noteworthy that, with his work on this film, cinematographer James Hinton became the first Black cinematographer to shoot a theatrically released American movie).

Ganja & Hess also pushed the envelope in the early 1970s for displaying full frontal male nudity as well as toe fetishism. Consider that the writer/director, Bill Gunn, was a gay Black man attempting to make a movie at a time when that combination was exceedingly rare.

Interestingly, it’s the word “vampire” is never uttered, and typical vampiric clichés and conventions are not followed. For example, these bloodsuckers can survive in broad daylight and cast reflections in mirrors, and they don’t turn into bats or other animals.

Spiritual and cultural conflict are at the core of this film. Gunn continuously compares and contrasts ancient African culture (the fictional Myrthians, known for drinking blood) with modern Christianity. This narrative suggests a symbolic battle between the two for the soul of Dr. Green, who ultimately chooses to abandon the former for the latter. Ponder how scenes involving Reverend William are much more linear and narratively simple, while scenes depicting Hess, Ganja, and Meda convey a much stronger Black aesthetic and arthouse vibe.

According to Eggert, “Hess’ interest in pagan African civilizations, sexual desire, and ultimately blood represent him straying from a Christian worldview. But Hess gravitates back to Christianity when he visits Luther and is absolved in the end. This allows him to expel the so-called evil in himself by standing in the shadow of a crucifix, once again accepting a Christian ideology, and dying with some measure of peace. And while Hess’ conclusion would seem to bring a certain moralizing shape to the film, Gunn’s last few moments identify with Ganja, who does not feel the same weight of Christian guilt that Hess does.” Meanwhile, essayist Donato Totaro wrote: “There are two narratives that seem to survive in the end: the Minister’s Christian linear view of life (since he remains alive) and Ganja’s more selfish (“Always look out for Ganja”) queer Afrocentric existence. This would explain how she has literally taken over Hess’ space, her gaze lingering out from his window. The clash from Church to Myrthian past exemplifies a theme noted by Gunn of the way Blacks are consumed between these two different historical positions: pre slavery African roots and their post slavery Christian roots.”

Additionally, the filmmakers explore addiction and compulsion. Ganja & Hess is a metaphor, in some eyes, for illicit drug dependence. But they also examine self-actualization, empowerment, identity, and personal freedom. Consider how Ganja is a strong, independent Black woman who rejects conformity and subservience. She tells of how she came to defy her mother and create her own identity. Ultimately, she does not choose suicide like Hess; instead, she embraces her vampiric immortality and superiority as a proud, intelligent predator and sensory being.

Similar works

• The Velvet Vampire (1971, Stephanie Rothman) – A surreal, sensual vampire film with experimental visuals and themes of desire and death similar to Gunn’s.
• Lemora: A Child’s Tale of the Supernatural (1973, Richard Blackburn) – Uses horror tropes to explore repression, transformation, and spiritual corruption.
• Touki Bouki (1973, Djibril Diop Mambéty) – Shares Gunn’s avant-garde structure and exploration of identity, alienation, and freedom within African diasporic experience.
• Sugar Hill (1974, Paul Maslansky) – A blaxploitation horror film like Ganja & Hess, but with a more traditional revenge plot and voodoo elements.
• The House on Skull Mountain (1974, Ron Honthaner) – Another Black-centered gothic horror from the same era, though more conventional in its storytelling.
• Losing Ground (1982, Kathleen Collins) – Explores Black intellectual and emotional life with the same introspective, artful approach found in Gunn’s work.
• The Hunger (1983, Tony Scott) – A stylized, existential vampire story that treats immortality and addiction as metaphors for loneliness and decay.
• Daughters of the Dust (1991, Julie Dash) – Shares Gunn’s poetic, nonlinear style and focus on Black spirituality, identity, and ancestral memory.
• Candyman (1992, Bernard Rose) – Revisits race, myth, and horror with social critique, much as Gunn’s film reframes the vampire myth through a Black lens.
• Eve’s Bayou (1997, Kasi Lemmons) – Blends gothic atmosphere and themes of mysticism, class, and race in the Black American South, echoing Gunn’s mood and symbolism.
• Da Sweet Blood of Jesus (2014) – Directed by Spike Lee, this is a direct remake of Ganja & Hess. It closely follows Gunn’s story about an anthropologist who becomes immortal after being pierced by an ancient dagger, exploring themes of addiction, desire, and Black spirituality through Lee’s modern lens.

Other films by Bill Gunn

• Stop! (1970)
• Personal Problems (1980)