This movie is cult for so many reasons. One, it's a vampire movie. Not a
swampy costume drama, but an attempt to bring Nosferatu into the living
daylight – or here, nightlife. Two, it marks the apex of Bowie's
self-definition via movies, playing as he does an androgynous,
strangely youthful two-hundred year old European with a taste for the
New World. Three, though boom-bang director Scott was just spicing
things up by casting nubile Sarandon as Bowie/Deneuve's love
interest/dinner, he put a sexy spin on the lesbian vampire myth.
Finally, it's a better Eighties satire than Wall Street.
