Can you tell me about your first experience seeing The Vanishing?
I was first aware of the film when I was very young. I caught a snippet of it on a programme by Channel Four in 2004 or 2005, called the Top 100 Scariest Moments.
That’s exactly where I learned about it as well.
I think there’s a bit of a generational thing . I was probably too young to be watching it. I was in my early teens, but I was at the point in my teens where I was binge-watching horror and really getting into the genre, so this was the perfect programme for me. The ending of The Vanishing was one of the top scariest moments, so I saw the film knowing what happened at the end, and that may have influenced my experience of it, but once I actually watched the film in its entirety, the ending stuck with me, and I remembered it for many, many years afterwards.
It’s a really haunting and hard-to-classify film. It’s part crime film (it’s based on a short crime novel), and it’s part psychological thriller and part horror, with some elements of Gothic Horror. Once I got past the searing terror of the ending, I was really interested in the different layers within the film; the character development, and the gender politics of it. It’s a really interesting one to critique because it’s about a woman who goes missing, but the woman isn’t in the film for the majority of it, and so the dynamics between the characters are really interesting. They’re dated in a way that, in how we talk about women in horror now, is really thought-provoking. You can really like the film, but be uncomfortable with its politics and its gender politics. It makes you uncomfortable in different ways.
I always get something new or see something new every time I watch it. It’s just one of those ambiguous films that really lingers and gets under your skin. So that was my very visceral emotional reaction to the film, which I still have, and that led to the book.
Were you watching it on your own, on home media?
Yes, I saw the original programme with the clip on TV, then eventually streamed it somewhere, and then bought it on DVD or Blu-ray. It was very much a solo viewing experience, and I haven’t actually seen it in the cinema yet, so that’s going to be a new thing for me when it’s actually screened at the media museum this next week; actually watching it with a group of people in the cinema.
What do you think that might add to it?
It’ll depend very much on whether people have actually seen the film before. If there are people who don’t know what’s coming and what the actual ending is, that will be really unusual to perhaps hear the shock in the audience and to get a sense of how the ending could still have an impact. I think I’ve almost forgotten how certain elements of the film may appear to people who are watching it for the first time. So I think that’ll bring back some of that more visceral shock.
But if there are people who have seen the film before, knowing what to expect, I think that will be interesting to see whether they get something new from it by watching it in the big screen. We’re doing something quite special and unusual even trying to bring it to the cinema.
I think there is a chance that, very much like our experience, and with the coming of social media and online lists, people might well come in knowing how the movie ends. How do you think that will shape their experience?
It is probably more likely that they will know what the ending is, and I do wonder whether they will have heard of the ending but not seen the film in’s entirety. When you look on film websites or forums, a lot of people talk about the film and talk about the impact that the ending had. But then there are some people who find the actual film slightly underwhelming in a way; expecting the entire film to offer more tension or obvious thrills. Hopefully, my talk will add some of the context of why this is a really important film. It’ll be interesting to hear what some of their responses are to the entirety of the film.
How was the process of researching and writing the book? Were there any big surprises?
Yeah, it was a really fruitful and enjoyable process. When you’re able to write something about just one film, you can really delve into the different layers, and I think it’s always going to be interesting thinking about a low-budget independent film that succeeded without the backing or investment of a major studio. I was able to talk to one of the producers of the film who was also the director’s (George Sluizer) widow. He died in 2014. I also talked to the cinematographer behind the film, who kindly gave me permission to feature some of his own stills and images for the book. There are a lot of urban myths about the film, so it was interesting to trace some of those back to their origin. I think Sluizer, as a director, was quite mischievous, and probably knew how to drum up anticipation and mystique around the film. He talked about the mafia having funded some of the film, and having to go to really dark, ominous places to actually get the budget together. It turned out maybe not to be true.
And then there’s a famous quote from Stanley Kubrick talking about it being a terrifying film, and that was said in a conversation with the producer. Finding out that that was actually a valid quote, and that was something that he had actually said about the film was really interesting, because it often can get a little bit murky when you’re hearing about certain famous people who has have said things.
I also drew on materials from the BFI in London, but also the Film Institute in Amsterdam, and it was interesting comparing the reception in the Dutch press when it first came out to the English speaking press. A lot of the comparisons to Hitchcock came from the Dutch press. I think that they wanted to publicise that there was a Dutch director who could make an impact in global filmmaking. And that’s completely understandable, because it’s not as potentially well-known as other strands of European cinema, like French cinema and Italian cinema.
A lot of the reviews referred to another Dutch film, which was released the same year, called Amsterdam. It’s a slasher thriller film, and a really good film in its own right. It leans into the tropes of blood and guts. It’s about this serial killer stalking victims through the streets of Amsterdam, but it was seen as quite low-brow. I think some of the critics in the Dutch press didn’t like that and this was a film that was held up as an example of Dutch cinema. So I think they were really keen when The Vanishing came out to claim it as this sophisticated film, which shows what Dutch filmmakers can do.
It’s interesting that this film would resonate with Kubrick. There might be similarities in world-view there. Do you think it’s a cynical film?
Yes, it is, and I think deliberately so. I think Sluizer is on record as wanting to make his audiences uncomfortable and make them reflect on their perceptions of darkness and violence. The ending reminds me of directors like Michael Haneke, the Austrian director who made Funny Games, though obviously his films are a lot more violent and visceral. But there’s certainly a deliberate sense of wanting to shock the audience in a way which doesn’t just entertain them. It makes them reflect on existential themes like human obsession and the dark side of human nature. An example of this would be his 1979 film called Twice a Woman, which is about a very complicated, dark love triangle that features Anthony Perkins. I’m not saying it’s one of his best or most well-known films, but it shows Sluizer had a growing interest in psychological horror.
There’s certainly a bleakness to The Vanishing, but it is also interesting in how it interrogates layers of grief. We see the pathos of the film, and how Rex, as a central character, after the disappearance of Saska, is unable to let go or accept that she has gone and so there’s a pathos which isn’t cynical or nihilistic. There’s the symbolism within the film of the golden egg, which is the title of the original book and a very obvious metaphor for how we can enclose ourselves within certain emotions like intense grief. So I do think it is a deeply existential film. It’s philosophical and shows the frailty of human psychology.
You mentioned Haneke having a similar approach, but being more overtly violent and also you mentioned earlier that audiences might expect a more overtly tense experience. Is there a sense that Sluizer is withholding the catharsis that might come from the break into violence or into traditional horror movie elements?
Oh, certainly. I think that is deliberate, and I think that it doesn’t at all offer that catharsis that you would expect in a more obvious, entertainment film. Another part of The Vanishing‘s history is the remake of the film from 1993 only a few years later, which completely reverses all of that. The remake really withdraws or undermines the appeal and impact of the original. And I think that’s important, because you can see how the Hollywood studio system interacted with something quite original from a European context, and then tried to make it more palatable to American, or English speaking audiences in quite a patronising way. But the original film is supposed to deliberately withhold catharsis and make audiences question how they perceive violence and how they want certain violent stories to end on screen.
Thinking about that American instinct to remake the film and fill it full of catharsis; in chapter five of your book, you address the label of post-horror, and also the much more controversial label of “elevated horror”. Do you think maybe The Vanishing was ahead of its time, and that maybe now it’s better situated within the current state of horror movies?
I can certainly see that. I wouldn’t ever say a film is ahead of its time, but I think in that chapter in the book, I wanted to make the point that a lot of the talk around the horror that has come out of A24 and all those studios… the popular press tends to see certain trends or phases of horror development as unprecedented, as really reinventing the horror genre in a way that hasn’t been done before. And I think we’ve seen this time and time again, but it’s currently at its peak with the post-horror dialogue around those more existential films that tap into deeper themes of human grief and loss and have much more complex, layered narratives. And I wanted to show that The Vanishing really captures some of that already and really foreshadowed some of those films that came later. And it certainly wouldn’t be the only one that did that throughout the 70s and 80s, as examples from different strands of European horror reflect some of these themes. I wouldn’t necessarily say The Vanishing could be mapped on to post-horror or any of the themes in these “elevated horror” films as they are called, but it certainly shows that the the horror genre is a very versatile genre that overlaps with many other kinds of films. I think it showed that the genre was appealing to people and drawing on rather deeper themes in a way that perhaps critics weren’t picking up on, as they should have done in the 70s, 80s and 90s.
I was wanting to connect The Vanishing to current films that are being produced and which are gaining a lot of hype. I tried to puncture some of that hype and show that there’s a much deeper relationship that’s still evolving in the genre, and that often a lot of modern films are drawing on and echoing films from the past like The Vanishing.
Rex is motivated by grief as he goes further and deeper into what exactly happened to Saskia. We, meanwhile, as a viewer, are motivated by curiosity. Considering the emergence of social media, which brings real life horrors into our lives daily, and the popularity of true crime media, are there new elements to this commentary on morbid obsession?
Oh, certainly. That’s a really interesting angle that you put on it there with the social media, and also the viral effect of how certain snippets of true crime stories are shared. That’s really important. But it’s a continuation of how people and audiences have always interacted with these stories. And I talk about in the book the figure of the serial killer, which the antagonist in this film fits into, and the way that the serial killer has been, has become, or has evolved into this sort of Machiavelli and sophisticated figure in popular culture that defies the establishment and is able to evade them. It’s a glamorisation of them and The Vanishing in its depiction of Raymond is a really interesting development. Sluiza presents him as an ordinary person. And we’ve seen that characterisation before. Anything from Norman Bates and Psycho to Silence of the Lambs. So we’ve seen the ordinary man before, but he’s a buffoon as well. He’s a very clumsy person, and so he’s able to commit a horrible deed, but whilst being a person that we don’t hold in awe.
I think The Vanishing was part of a group of films that were pushing back or critiquing this obvious glamorisation of the serial killer, and we’ve certainly seen that continuation today with Netflix dramas about true crime cases and how they represent killers like Ted Bundy. There’s an ambivalent relationship that films like The Vanishing will have there, because the horror in them draws on our fear of certain people or individuals operating in a certain way in the world. But they’re also wary of the glamorisation of these people and the almost non-human way they’re represented in popular culture. It doesn’t play up to the obvious tropes that make serial killer narratives entertaining, and I think that will always be relevant and have new resonance in the way that you’ve described as the representation of the serial killer evolved through Netflix dramas, through streaming and, as you say, through social media.
The Vanishing plays on and denies those same emotions in a way that continues to be interesting in contemporary popular culture. It slows down and de-accelerates the pacing of the film to really highlight the mundanity, the ordinariness of these people, and the boring foundation beneath the facade of evil and I think that’s a very important side to this strand of European horror, which contests the high octane glamorisation of these people. There’s never any dramatic chase sequence in these films. It’s not heart-pumping music. The audience are immersed in the wrong details of their life, not in that really perverse psychology that you might want to be. You’re immersed in their day-to-day domestic routines, which are very dysfunctional in a way that isn’t interesting. It plays with humour; you can see the clownish side of them. And that’s certainly something that’s brought about in The Vanishing.
You’ll be introducing the film on Thursday, the 24th of April at the gorgeous Pictureville cinema in Bradford. Have you been to the cinema before?
Yes, I have, and I love it there. It’s an amazing cinema. Bradford is incredibly lucky to have it. And the variety of stuff they screen there is fantastic. To see old classics like The Vanishing alongside newer releases, it’s an amazing place.
It really is. This is part of the new Cine Spotlight strand that seeks to dive deep into important films with experts who deliver illustrated introductions. What can audiences expect from this screening?
Well, they can expect an illustrated talk. I’ll be providing just a general introduction to the film about why it’s important and what they should expect, but also giving them a sample of some of the material that’s in my book. As part of the research for this book, I was able to get some behind-the-scenes nuggets about how the film was made and its production history. They’ll get a taste of what the critics actually said about the film when it first came out, both in the English-speaking press and in the Dutch press as well. And I’ll be talking about the themes in the film, the focus on grief and the representation of horror in the film. I’ll also talk about its legacy and how it’s stayed with audiences long after they’ve watched it.
Dr. Christina Brennan is introducing The Vanishing at the Pictureville Cinema on Thursday the 24th of April. You can buy tickets here: https://www.scienceandmediamuseum.org.uk/cinema/vanishing-intro . You can purchase Dr. Brennan’s book about The Vanishing and find out more about her work here: https://www.christinabrennan.net/