Spellbinder (1988)

Modern urban life is a thing of alienation. We walk the city streets, and the squalid demands of the beggars lining the sidewalks are blocked out as if they do not exist. An old woman struggles with an armload of groceries, but we sense there is a risk in getting involved. If we go to this woman’s aid, she might present some further request upon our time and generosity. What makes us so stingy with our vitality and good fortune? What are we afraid of? The reason we don’t extend ourselves to strangers, according to Spellbinder (1988), is that, for all we know, they could be the property of a blood-sucking cult. By tampering with the cult’s next gush of hot hemoglobin, we become prey ourselves. Sound unlikely? That’s what the hero of Spellbinder thought, until he paused one day to assist a beautiful woman being accosted by demented attackers.