“The Hunger” is so ’80s,
I felt like popping over to MTV for a full night of music videos and the Moon
Man. Drenched in equal parts German
techno rock and blood, with sex on top, Tony Scott’s gothic thriller follows a
love triangle between a vampire (Catherine Denevue), her undead boy toy (David
Bowie), and a NYC doc (Susan Sarandon) who studies aging disorders, ironic as
Denevue’s blood-sucker won’t age and Bowie’s poor sap is dying fast no matter
how much young blood he drinks. (The couple tutors a neighbor girl on violin;
let’s just say Mom and dad deserve a refund.) I won’t dive too much into plot
or fates, but I can’t let go the bat-shit-crazy WTF studio-demanded epilogue that
takes a stake and a blowtorch to every nuance and act of violence that came
before it, all for the hope of a sequel. (Why!?!) It does not help that Scott,
being Scott, overloads on smash edits, hellish strobe lights, and making
everything so serious. A sex scene with Denevue and Sarandon should not be
boring. Scott makes it boring. Hunger is overstuffed from the start. Often,
being left hungry for more is better. Is it not? C+
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