Nosferatu Phantom of The Night. Dir. Werner Herzog. 1979
In the village where I live, we are surrounded by tortilla chips. In the many, many Mexican restaurants, the servers drop hot bowls of the golden triangles and say to you as you sit down, “Welcome ¡Estás en tu casa!”
There are row after row of Doritos in the shops. There is even an unguarded bag of tortilla chips at work today. So it is possible here to eat corn chips every day at almost every meal and in between. And I suffer from the corn chip curse—once I start eating them, I don't stop until they are all gone. Afterward I always experience guilt and indigestion. But that hot salty crunch.
Since the chips in the office kitchen are not mine, and I know I cannot eat one without eating them all—cursed curse—I hiss, I bite a knuckle, and I turn away. This is for the best. It is definitely not a good thing to eat all the corn chips. They are loaded with empty calories and if you eat all of them every day, before long you will surely die.
But there are worse things than death. What if you are a vampire who cannot not die? Then one day you see a photo of your real estate broker's wife, Lucy. She has such a beautiful neck. You know that if you cannot die perhaps your condition would be a little easier if at least you could love her and she would love you back.
That is what this movie is about.