A long-overlooked oddity of Czech cinema is getting its due. Ferat Vampire (Upír z Feratu), Juraj Herz’s surreal 1982 horror-sci-fi satire, will be released on Blu-ray in the United States for the first time this summer. Severin Films, known for reviving cult cinema, partnered with the Czech National Film Archive to produce a new restoration of the film as well as over five hours of special features.
The film stars famed Czech director Jiří Menzel and former first lady Dagmar Havlová in a deeply stylized story about a race car that may—or may not—run on human blood. Combining elements of horror, science fiction, and psychological drama, Ferat Vampire has remained a underseen entry in Herz’s filmography, now finally accessible to North American audiences in high definition.
A twisted tale of blood-fueled obsession
Ferat Vampire follows Mima Veberová (Havlová), an ambulance driver drawn into the orbit of a mysterious foreign car company, Ferat Motors. Her thrill-seeking instincts lead her behind the wheel of a sinister race car that leaves its drivers pale, anemic, and dependent—raising suspicions from her colleague, Dr. Marek (Menzel). As Marek attempts to uncover the truth, the film builds tension around the ambiguous nature of the car: Is it a biomechanical vampire, or a figment of paranoia?
The screenplay, adapted by Jan Fleischer from Josef Nesvadba’s short story Vampire Ltd., leans into psychological horror and allegory rather than outright supernatural terror. Director Herz, best known for The Cremator and Morgiana, described the film as a satire on automotive fetishism, exploring society’s irrational obsession with speed, machines, and consumerism.
While Ferat Vampire shares some thematic DNA with body horror works by David Cronenberg, its tone is distinctively Central European—bleakly comic, ambiguous, and visually surreal. Cinematographer Richard Valenta and composer Petr Hapka contribute to the eerie atmosphere, with stylized dream sequences and unnerving musical cues heightening the sense of unease.
A standout scene involves Marek’s nightmarish vision of the Ferat vehicle devouring its driver—a sequence brought to life by Jan Švankmajer, who was then working at Barrandov Studio. Švankmajer, later famed for his stop-motion surrealism, crafted a grotesque biomechanical system using real organs sourced from Prague slaughterhouses, evoking both horror and absurdity.
A major point of fascination in Ferat Vampire is the vehicle itself: a redesigned Škoda 110 Super Sport prototype transformed into a cinematic icon of menace. The car’s sinister exterior—black paint, oversized spoiler, and altered lights—was conceptualized by Theodor Pištěk, who would later win an Academy Award for his costume design on Amadeus.
New blu-ray with extensive extras
The new blu-ray release of Ferat Vampire includes multiple audio commentaries: one by British film historian Michael Brooke and another archival track by German critic Lars Dreyer-Winkelmann, re-recorded in English for this edition. A selection of new and archival interviews adds further depth, including reflections from director Herz, actress Jana Břežková, actor Vít Olmer, and engineer Stanislav Cinkl, who helped develop the car prototype.
Additional featurettes explore various aspects of the production and legacy. A newly produced video essay by filmmaker Stephen Broomer, Eat Up the Road: Upír z Feratu and the Legend of the Blood Car, situates the film within a broader cinematic and cultural context.
One of the most substantial extras is Strange Airlines, a 59-minute Czech television film from 1992, based on Nesvadba’s short story Mordair and starring Jana Brejchová. The inclusion provides a rare example of another adaptation of the author’s speculative fiction, expanding the scope of the release.
A printed booklet rounds out the package, featuring the original short story Vampire Ltd. in English translation, along with a new introduction by Czech science fiction historian Ivan Adamovič. Severin’s Blu-ray marks a rare opportunity for international audiences to rediscover one of Herz’s most audacious and underappreciated films.
