Supernatural Media Making a Comeback
By: Gabrielle Bernabe
Question: Team Jacob or Team Edward?
If you answered “neither” or “Jacob” because “why would I want a love interest that glitters in the sun and the author had to butcher his character in a way that made Edward more palatable because the gap is weird,” then—high five!
Too controversial? Fine.
Here’s another one: Team Stefan or Team Damon?
If you also answered “neither” because the real life dating of the characters Elena and Damon ruined the on-screen relationship—and they had much more chemistry with other characters—then I’d say you know what you’re talking about.
How about a third: Are you waiting on the second season of My Babysitter’s a Vampire?
We’ll probably be waiting for the rest of our lives—but honesty, I’d be satisfied with a reboot at this point.
All of this media comes straight from the 2010s and was a formative piece of my preteen years. While I am more of a werewolf girl myself, this opinion piece aims to answer the question: why has vampiric media made such a comeback in pop culture?
In these shows—and the recent movie Sinners—vampirism often acts as a metaphor for control, or lack thereof. In some versions, characters who feel powerless in their human lives gain a sense of control once they become vampires. In others, it’s the opposite: vampirism becomes a raw, unfiltered manifestation of bloodlust and power, something characters spend seasons trying to manage—or that we, as viewers, recoil from when someone can’t “control their urges.”
That feeling of losing control is universal. It hits hardest during that weird, in-between space between childhood and the teenage years—but honestly, it never really goes away. Even as adults, we still feel like we should have all the answers.
Stefan’s inability to control his bloodlust at points in his vampirism earns him the name “The Ripper”, a merciless killer who cannot even enjoy the blood of his victims because (a) there are so many, and (b) he enjoys the kills more than the act itself. This becomes clear when he relapses during the show. Stefan tries so hard to separate “The Reaper” with what he sees as his real, more passive, not-soquick-to-kill personality.
Damon, on the other hand, is more controlled with his bloodlust and doesn’t care much about human lives beyond using them to satisfy his various urges. This “nonchalance,” as we come to learn, isn’t very real. It is what drives him to turn his brother—and the main character, Elena—into vampires: not wanting to lose his brother to the world, no matter how much they claim to dislike each other, and wanting to finally win over the doppelgänger of the woman they both love. Damon’s lack of control stems from vulnerability—vulnerability he does not want to have or show—and the series follows his self-centeredness and the people he ends up confiding and taking solace with.
Taking a step away from the vamps who had hundreds of years to learn themselves—and towards more student-like mindsets—Sarah, Rory, and Erica are all vampires from the series My Babysitter is a Vampire, and they deal with typical teenage sitcom issues with a wacky twist. Each of the vampire characters has a different reaction to their vampirism. Sarah doesn’t like it and wants to live as “human” as she possibly can, while Erica embraces her vampirism because it has given her a newfound confidence that she didn’t have in her human life. Rory falls somewhere in the middle and their outlook on life—and how they handle the various problems of the show—relies on whether they view their vampirism as a gift or a curse.
Now to the most popular form of vampiric media known to the last few generations (aside from Buffy the Vampire Slayer): Twilight.—a book and movie series that transcended the dystopian field and whose initiative inspired some of my favorite preteen media. While I don’t personally know much about the series—the younger, more cynical version of myself preferred blood and gore to shining emo vampires with CGI babies who have entire books dedicated to their thoughts—a recent song made me think back to this era with a brand new appreciation.
The Cullen family is full of characters, who I assume, are more explored in the books (as they always are) but whose personalities, powers, and backstories are all equally interesting in how they influence their motivations and feelings towards Bella. My favorite example is Alice Cullen, the sister in this family whose promonitions allowed her to develop a loving relationship with Bella before even knowing her—something that was desperately needed.
Bella is another character I’d call a flawed main character, as was par for the course in this area of media, and someone whose perception of the world is so clearly skewed from the reality that it made it hard to immerse myself in the story with her. I do, however, understand her motivations to become a vampire. She wanted to feel powerful—to feel better than she did in her human body. She was a teen girl who, in hindsight, was so relatable because she was in her head so much. I wish that she found friends who could help her out of her shell. Maybe college would have been that for her—but instead, and in a lovely way, vampirism and the Cullen family provided that friendship and freedom: a version of reality in which she finally felt like her “true self.”
To the newest summer blockbuster—one whose underlying message is that music transcends time, and through the power it holds, there are people who can weaponize their voices in ways that seem highly unnatural—the story also carries a vampiric element that pushes it forward.
In a completely biased take, I absolutely loved Sinners. It made me laugh, cry, pray, and constantly reflect throughout the entire movie. The characters and their individual stories are so raw and real that it hurts to part with them and leave the theater. When it comes to how my friends and I would handle a supernatural-level threat, I’d hope they’d let me lean into my expertise (a full preteen of supernatural media plus all 15 seasons of Supernatural) and let me be their Annie.
Seeing Preacher Boy in the car with Smoke and Stack reminded me all too well of hanging out with my older cousins and feeling “cool” for a moment or two. Even Remment’s motives—why he wanted the gift so badly—make sense after understanding his backstory and why that power is so sought after. Critiques of the church, selfishness, and what you would do for your kids are all points that I intend to use in a class paper sooner rather than later.
The ending scenes—both at the jukejoint with Annie and Smoke, the church with Preacher Boy and his father, and the final moment with Preacher Boy himself—were pure tear jerkers. The way I was sobbing in that theater, they should have had half a mind to kick me out, but most of the theater was crying with me. Without spoilers, (though I hope that you’ve seen it by now) if not, maybe this piece convinced you to.
The reason why vampirism has returned to our media is clear it’s a good way to express certain ideas and values in a way that is palatable and entertaining. Through objectively great, complex, and flawed characters, we see how vampirism is a parallel to addiction and to the lack of control many of us feel in our own lives, pushing us to rely on comfort characters.
While yes, the lives of these characters are highly dramatized and fictional, I implore everyone to revisit the media of our preteens—and feel a little bad for the next generations who will not have that luxury—to see what these stories really represent.
