‘Firebite’ Is A Vampire Story I Can Actually Get Behind
'Firebite' makes Blakfellas, our fight, and our 80,000-year old knack for survival the beating heart of a kickass vampire slaying tale.
People who know me will know that I am not a fan of vampires.
The reasons I dislike them are legion. But growing up with a family who couldn’t (and still can’t) get enough of Anne Rice novels, Twilight certainly didn’t help endear these pasty, moody sun haters to my heart. I’m also in my 20s and came of age during the Twilight movie fanaticism of the ’00s, an era of time that remains semi-traumatic for any self-respecting vampire-hater (or anyone who held even mild critiques of Stephanie Meyer’s magnum opus).
But there’s more to my dislike of bloodsuckers than residual teenage contrarianism. For starters, the vampire archetype originally derived from Bram Stoker’s 1897 classic, Dracula, is deeply rooted in antisemitism, which was a reaction to the influx of Jewish migrants to England in the 1890s.
According to Jewish critic and playwright Rob Silverman-Ascher, Dracula traditionally embodied stereotypical Jewish facial features like a hook nose and thick eyebrows. The vampire’s taste for blood also heavily correlates to the anti-semitic “blood libel” myth which alleged Jewish people consumed the blood of virgins and children. Stoker also took inspiration from the popular 1894 novel Trilby, which chronicled the horror of a rich Jewish villain who seduces and murders young European women.
Of course, there are cultures across time and continents that have included blood-sucking monsters in their stories. But modern depictions of vampires continue to be drawn from Stoker’s depiction. The vampire may have evolved into a more sympathetic figure and even a cult-symbol of sexual freedom for women and LGBTIQ viewers, but clear remnants of its racist origins remain.
More modern iterations of vampires have not quite managed to shake this bigoted foundation. And when they’re not stand-ins for vilified minorities, they’re weirdly sympathetic portraits of white supremacists. Anne Rice’s iconic vampire Louis de Pointe du Lac is a literal slave master and plantation owner, yet is still the romanticised protagonist of a best-selling book series. The fact that there have been multiple iterations of the Confederate Vampire trope in Twilight, The Vampire Diaries, and True Blood proves that even when vampires aren’t consciously written as fear-mongering stereotypes of marginalised people, they’re depicted as the tortured victims of their own racist past.
For all these reasons and more, I would rather eat concrete than engage with the great majority of vampire stories. So when I tell you that there exists a vampire story that I actively love? It’s a day so momentous as to be marked as a public holiday.
Let me tell you about Firebite.
A Vampire Story That Flips The Script
Created by award-winning Kaytej director Warwick Thornton and Brendan Fletcher, Firebite is a Blak vampire story like no other. The series follows father-daughter duo, Tyson (Rob Collins) and Shanika (Shantae Barnes-Cowan). They’re blood hunters: Blakfellas trained especially in the tradition of killing ancient monsters. In Firebite, vampires are parasites who stowed away on the First Fleet and became addicted to Aboriginal blood after being set on Blakfellas by the British.
Set in remote South Australia, Opal City is a small mining town realised with the unique, sunburned Australian gothic quality that Thornton perfected in Sweet Country and The New Boy. Thornton, who directs most of the episodes as well as writing and producing, portrays the vast desserts and dark tunnels with a respectful eye that is both beautiful and menacing in its understanding of the land’s power. Opal Town itself, of course, is tiny but with a big enough Aboriginal population to be a magnet for vampires, especially since the old mining tunnels make the perfect hideout. So when one of the original 11 Fleet vampires arrives in Opal City, Tyson and Shanika face their biggest challenge yet.
The old vampire is not a romantic figure; merely a monstrous one, ruthless in his pursuit of sustaining his power with the blood of Aboriginal people. Firebite makes the vampire into a near-perfect allegory for the merciless, undying violence of colonialism that’s also a kick ass vampire hunter story. And not to make too fine point on it, but who’s even out here crushing on a scrawny colonial vampire when Tyson, played with nuclear levels of charm and smarm by Rob Collins, is out here as the karaoke-singing DILF vampire assassin of my dreams?
After so many years of tortured, romantic, and weirdly high-school obsessed vampires who were often indirectly racist, it was powerful to see vampires in a story that empowers oppressed people.
The vampire has often represented the dominant society’s greatest fears. Fear of migrants, female sexuality, and disillusionment with the Church have always been at the heart of the modern vampire myth. In Firebite, that myth is subverted.
It’s a fun, thoughtful, and bloody good ride that makes Blakfellas, our fight, and our 80,000-year old knack for survival the beating heart of a kickass vampire slaying tale. Move over, Buffy — you can sit this one out.
Firebite is streaming on SBS On Demand.
Merryana Salem is a proud Wonnarua and Lebanese–Australian writer, critic, teacher and podcaster. Follow them on Twitter.