In The Velvet Vampire (1971), Rothman broke genre conventions by reversing masculine and feminine roles, catering to the female gaze, depicting overt queerness.
In many exploitation films, women are the unsuspecting victims of ruthless men. The genre relies on nudity and gruesome murders to shock and entertain audiences. This is exemplified in the following clip:
Oftentimes, the powerful characters are men. In vampire films, men are the heroes and victims who fight back, while women passively succumb to their deaths. Rothman decided to reverse this trope in The Velvet Vampire.
The movie begins with a shot of Diane, the vampire and primary antagonist, being attacked and nearly raped by an anonymous man (3:07). In her bright, red dress, she gives off the seductive air of the femme fatale whose only role is to look sexy and please men. At first, it seems like she will be the movie's first victim. However, she quickly stabs her attacker, killing him and saving herself. Immediately, Rothman asserts that women can and will fight back. This scene is shown below:
Diane is attacked by a knifeman.
Diane takes the knife and stabs her aggressor.
A similar reversal occurs when Diane attacks an innocent mechanic, who she lures into her garage by asking him to fix her ATV. This is already unusual for a genre film because women are not usually shown to be interested in motor sports. Diane lunges for her victim. In a typical vampire film, the audience would expect him fight back, perhaps dying, but only after a valiant struggle. Instead, the mechanic runs away, terrified. He dies not by fighting Diane, but by accidentally impaling his groin on a rake. The resulting imagery is phallic, effectively emasculating the mechanic and reinforcing Diane's power.
Coming to pick up her soon-to-be victims, Diane flies into view on her ATV.
The mechanic is struck through with a rake.
Throughout the movie, Diane reinforces her physical, psychological, and sexual power. Whereas the tendency might be to masculinize her in order to represent her superiority, Rothman never does. Even while taking on masculine roles such as exploring abandoned mining shafts and digging graves, Diane is depicted as being sensual and feminine. In this way, Rothman reinforces that women can be dominant without conforming to society's stereotypic notion of power and authority.
Rothman maintains Diane's feminine forcefulness through formal elements such as cinematography, mise-en-scène, and costuming.
Medium shots allow Diane to look directly at the audience, breaking the fourth wall and drawing us into her gaze. When Diane watches her victims sleep, controlling Lee's and Susan's dreams, she occupies the majority of the frame and is placed just off-center, a skull her only adornment. In these moments, she is also positioned at a slight high angle, giving her a dominant aura. At these moments, Diane commands the audience's attention, when this role would normally be reserved for a man.
Diane spies on Lee and Susan while they sleep.
The following two images show how costuming effectively emphasizes Diane's femininity. Her extravagant robes command the audience's audience's attention, making the setting and other characters feel drab by comparison. The red and pink hues are colors typically associated with women and sexuality. Rothman forces the audience to internalize Diane's femininity – she is powerful without being masculinized.
Diane's bold dress stands out from the drab background.
In one of the more bizarre scenes, Diane eats raw chicken liver while dressed in a fluffy robe.
Though Diane is powerful, she isn't infallible. At the end of the movie, Susan convinces a crowd to mob Diane with crosses. Exposed to the sun for too long and overshadowed by crucifixes, Diane dies. Her positioning and costuming make her seem vulnerable. Additionally, her high leather boots, black pantyhose, and revealing top are are something you might expect a seductress to wear. It is only here, at the film's finale, that Rothman runs the risk of reinforcing misogynistic attitudes that seductresses must be defeated and that women are weak to men.
I believe that in this scene, Rothman wanted the audience to sympathize with Diane – it is the only time we see her as vulnerable. Her suffering is emphasized with close-ups and lens flares. Instead of the ending feeling triumphant, it is nearly tragic. The audience is invited to identify with Diane and choose for themselves whether she is villain or victim.
Additionally, her defeat is initiated by Susan, another woman character to fights back, rather than a man. At the beginning of The Velvet Vampire, Susan is portrayed as being ditzy and subservient, the stereotypical "dumb blond". As Lee's masculinity grows increasingly fragile, Susan gains dominance and independence. Susan's overpowering of Diane allows her to challenge misogynistic stereotypes.
Diane dies at the hands of a Christian mob.
In The Velvet Vampire, Rothman privileges the female gaze over the male gaze, challenging the notion that exploitation films are primarily aimed at pleasing a male audience. Traditionally, women's bodies are put on full display for the benefit of a male character, whether he is hero or villain. In horror movies, voyeurism is one of the most common ways this is demonstrated. This is exemplified in the follow clip from Dracula (Browning and Freund, 1931), in which the use of a tracking shot makes the viewer feel as if they are spying on Dracula's gorgeous wife as she emerges from her chamber. Rothman uses a similar technique just before Diane is attacked at the beginning of The Velvet Vampire. Taking advantage of the audience's expectations, Rothman tricks viewers into believing that Diane will be the victim. When Diane is revealed to be the powerful and alluring antagonist, this is shocking and challenges the horror genre's reliance on violence against women for entertainment.
The use of a tacking shot is voyeuristic.
Rothman continues to make obvious use of voyeurism. As Diane draws Lee and Susan further into her grasp, she spies on them – in Rothman's film, the woman is the peeping tom, rather than as a man as you would typically expect from a horror movie. The use of voyeurism has an unsettling effect on the audience, adding to the movie's horror. Thus, Rothman adheres to genre conventions while still challenging audience expectations, adding to the shock that makes this movie entertaining.
Toward the end of the movie, Susan discovers Diane's one-way mirror and confronts her. The following dialogue ensues:
SUSAN: You've been watching us through that room, haven't you?
DIANE: Yes.
SUSAN: Why?
DIANE: Don't you know?
SUSAN (offscreen): No.
DIANE: You should. You did the same thing the other night.
SUSAN: That was different. It was an accident.
DIANE: You could've turned away. But you didn't.
In this dialogue, Rothman points out that that voyeurism isn't limited to men. Women also enjoying watching things they aren't supposed to see, subverting expectations that women should be pure and innocent.
Top Left: Juan's dead body watches Susan, heightening the scary mood and adding humor.
Bottom Left: A high-angle shot, tight framing, and handheld camera add to the effect that Susan is being watched.
Right: Diane watches Lee and Susan through a one-way mirror.
Oftentimes, sexual desire is a key feature of voyeurism. In the standard horror movie, men watch women to fulfill their sexual desires. The audience is presumed to be male, so women are fetishized and objectified. For example, in the above clip from Dracula, the female vampire is nicely made-up, whereas Dracula is somewhat bland and fully covered. When this trope is used in horror films, they lose their entertainment value for women viewers, who may not derive pleasure from nude women or who do not want to be portrayed in degrading ways.
In The Velvet Vampire, however, Rothman privileges female desire. Diane is sensuous, but oftentimes remains fully covered. Her clothing accentuates her curves and allows her to be sexy without turning her into an object of display. Adhering to typical vampire tropes, Diane is a seductress and must shield herself from the sun, but her sexuality exhibits her own power and desire rather than displaying her for men's benefit.
Diane is alluring even while fully covered.
Rothman also privileges the female gaze by allowing her women characters to express their desires and initiate intimacy, actions that are normally reserved for men. Diane freely asserts her wants and needs, unlimited by men.
Lying on top of Lee, Diane expresses her sexuality.
Rothman uses Susan's character development to emphasize this further. In the beginning of The Velvet Vampire, Susan is submissive to Lee, giving in when he pressures her. When Susan expresses herself Lee ignores her, brushing off his fears in favor of what he prefers. For example, when they first arrive at Diane's home, she feeds them steak tartare. Susan's not a fan, but Lee brushes aside her tastes even when Diane offers to have her servant, Juan, make Susan a salad. Immediately afterward, Diane and Lee exchange conspicuous innuendo, to Susan's chagrin. In this scene, Lee ignores Susan's most basic preferences, preferring instead to fulfill his own at her expense.
By the end of the movie, Diane successfully entices Lee, drawing him away from his wife. While this causes Susan heartbreak and frustration, it also gives her greater autonomy. Lee becomes angry as his wants fall to the wayside, allowing for Susan to have greater freedom to fulfill her own desires. Subtly encouraged by Diane, Susan grows increasingly assertive and learns to stand up against Lee. Thus, The Velvet Vampire becomes a feminist statement in which Rothman gives visual representation to women's desires.