How to be the Best Villain Possible: A Read[ing] of Vampires vs the Bronx, Blade, and Shadowshaper
Sarah Bruno
If 2020 gave us anything it was an Afro-Latinx vampire movie. I can write about the dembow or the garlic adobo being used as weaponry or the timb flying through the air, but I want these gifts to remain untouched. I do, however, want to think through the villains in these fantastic worlds.
Vampires vs The Bronx movie poster
Since I was a young girl, I was fascinated by mythology, fantasy, sci-fi--basically anything that allowed me to imagine being a part of something extraordinary. Where I could imagine being somewhere other than in a church pew sneaking Twilight in my bible case or sneak reading Harry Potter. These fantastic worlds led me to love reading, adventure, and writing. In these worlds I learned about love and grief and courage, but I feel like I had to imagine a bit harder because these fantastic dimensions of vampires, the whimsical, and wizardry didn’t hold space for Latinxs, let alone Afro-Latinxs. Who knows? Maybe I am better for it.
So when Vampires vs the Bronx gave us arguably a new classic spooky season film, I was elated and as time passes and I return to writing my dissertation, I am called back to how the fantasy of the Vampires in the Bronx allows the fantastic to incorporate itself into urban Caribbean landscapes for several reasons. One, the community of the Bronx actually stays in their realm but uses their imagination and belief of the supernatural to propel their fight against the villains. This is due to Afro-Latinx Caribbean culture already existing in and believing in metaphysical spaces. The community, while not supernatural beings, are still heroes of the film, which is important for various representational reasons. Two, the villains are vampires who impose themselves to influence and impact the neighborhood under the guise of urban renewal. Gentrification and the liberal do-gooders become implicated in the grandiose scheme of vampires to feed on and displace the marginalized community. Three, there are no non-white vampires in the movie besides Blade (one of my favorite movies), who is supposed to be the people’s champion and serves as a study guide for the young protagonists who wage a winning battle defending their neighborhood. The lack of a person of color as a vampire in the movie made sense for the greater metaphor, but as more “buy the block back” discourse abounds, I thought about who I realistically would be aligned with. I was excited about the thought of being aligned with the supernatural, but less so with villains. My generation is one that champions buying the block back. Young professionals and entrepreneurs return as landlords to their neighborhoods and purchase the buildings that were once owned by other entities and rented to their families. Buying the block back can be empowering as means of owning property and generating familial generational wealth, but oftentimes it is with intention to rent it out again. The idea is that people from the block would be more compassionate landlords, but it is one that is not always realized.
How often does empowering oneself or family hide behind the rhetoric of community betterment? What is the difference in paying an amorphous entity that owns where you house your memories vs a childhood friend made entity? Is it a better system, or a more sinister one that sounds better?
Vampires vs The Bronx movie poster
Blade movie poster
“The truth is many junior academics might perceive themselves to be aligned with protagonists or the underdog but the fact is that we might be closer to villains than we think.”
Vampires vs The Bronx still
The truth is many junior academics might perceive themselves to be aligned with protagonists or the underdog but the fact is that we might be closer to villains than we think. I am an anthropologist, one of the most extractive and violent disciplines and an accelerant of colonialism, and if I am using Vampires vs the Bronx as a departure for how to be the “best villain,” Blade becomes the example of how to be empowered but not be consumed by power. Blade takes his serum and is surrounded by Whistler, his community who holds him accountable. But, to still enter in this magical realistic realm and be less metaphoric about the villainy of academics as vectors of power, I look towards Shadowshapers by David José Older, where the actual villain is a white academic who studies Afro-Caribbean religions and spirituality.
Shadowshaper also takes up gentrification but instead of vampires who are gentrifying, the supernatural villains are spirits called The Sorrows who empower an anthropologist Dr. Wick who begins to kill off shadowshapers one by one. Shadowshapers are Caribbean (descended) people who use expressive art like painting or music to connect with ancestral spirits and can be empowered by these spirits to enhance their abilities and senses. Not only does Dr. Wick wage war on shadowshapers but also is committing harm in the spiritual realm against the ancestral spirits from which Shadowshapers draw their strength.The protagonists are youth are Afro-Caribbean teens with an Afro-Boricua shorty as their champion, Sierra Santiago. It is once again another world I escaped to and I felt the tension between the protagonist and the villain and I am still detangling it. Dr. Wick had once interviewed Sierra’s grandpa for his own research, and then at the prodding of The Sorrows began working towards his goal of becoming the most powerful shadowshaper through what could be a metaphor for genocidal violence. Dr. Wick is obviously an agent of the academy but so is the librarian who becomes a resource for Sierra and her crew. The librarian is a Puerto Rican woman, Nadia, who empowers Sierra with historical framing and information that leads her to accept her destiny as a shadowshaper.* Stay with me, ok. I want to say I am a Nadia, but I cannot ignore the example Dr. Wick sets. The authoritative expert in his field and wanting to gatekeep his position for more and more prestige, Dr. Wick is a villain both in the supernatural realm and in the real world via my perspective. More than that, I think Dr. Wick or becoming Dr. Wick is my greatest fear.
Bomba is an oral tradition and most studies aside from very few and exceptional ones**, exist to document bomba and survey its origins while sidestepping the people or theoretical value it offers to the world beyond Puerto Rico. As an Afro-Puerto Rican I am not sure Dr. Wick is someone I could be, if anything I would probably be a villain that is someone more sinister. Someone who is a part of the community and still commits violence and that is downright terrifying. In studying bomba as an Afro-Puerto Rican, I look to it with an entirely different perspective. Bomba is the oldest genre of music in the oldest colony in the world, and if we centered it’s history the landscape of Puerto Rican history changes, suddenly Black Puerto Ricans and migrants from other Caribbean countries become centered in its story. Anthropology has already harmed Puerto Ricans in more ways than one, and I do not want to be a part of that violence but I am inheriting it, whether I want to or not. For me, this looks like being the best villain I can be.
I mustered up the courage to write this blog post because of my love for vampires, yes. But, also because I was reviewing my interview transcripts and one of the bomberas said bomba is our act of magical realism that connects us with Mother Earth and our ancestors. It’s an incredible point of departure for this blog and in my work, but I realize that thoroughly explaining all the various factors involved in that statement and analyses is a villainous act. So, how might these villains serve as a model of what is ethical or not as researchers?
How can I be empowered by an institution and make a living that honors my own discipline and investment while not displacing the elders in bomba? I refuse to document some history because it’s not meant to be that accessible, I do not teach people how to dance, and I always defer to my own elders. How can I use my power as leverage and not as a gatekeeping tool? I can help bomberxs with grants for their current efforts and advise those who want to enter academia. But, how can I be the best villain possible? Because even in the fantasy realm where Black Latinxs exist, I am still probably not a hero as long as I am within the academy. So, how can I be a Blade?
By surrounding myself with my community, because true empowerment does not come from an institution. It comes from those who walk into a room with you. It comes from those who both celebrate and critique you.
Blade also took his daily serum.
*In Decolonizing Diasporas (2020) Dr. Yomaira Figueroa-Vásquez centers Shadowshapers in elucidating her theoretical framework of the otherwise. Figueroa-Vásquez emphasizes Puerto Rico as the oldest colony in the world and I’d be remiss to not state that I just finished reading the Decolonizing Diasporas in its entirety while thinking through bomba and the last chapter of my dissertation. It was because of her framing of Shadowshapers that I thought to think through vampires and villains.
**I mention exceptional bomba studies that do more than documentation but use bomba as a rigorous site thick with theoretical analyses and interventions. I am thinking specifically of Dr. Barbara Abadia-Rexach’s work on bomba as a site of racialization for Puerto Ricans who also bombear (Musicalizando la raza 2012). CENTRO Journal’s latest edition on bomba also engages in showcasing the burgeoning school of thought of bomba scholars who are actively trying to put a halt to the ways that bomba has been extractively framed throughout history, scholars like Dr. Jade Power Sotomayor, Melanie Maldonado, Ashley Coleman Taylor, Mónica C. Lladó Ortega, Juan Gudiño Cabrera, Noel Allende-Goitía)