There were several good visual scenes, but all in all it was pretty boring. I'm not used to such eyelashy anime; I'm accustomed to more cartoony stuff, like your Tenchi and your Gundam Wing and your Cowboy Bebop -- all that Toonami stuff. This shit was too -- dare I say -- gothic. Oh, and the lead vampire hunter that wasn't D reminded me of Jet Black, and the main vampire sounded suspiciously like Trevor Goodchild.
But as I said, there were a few shots, especially in the endgame (denouement?), that were pretty cool-looking. Lots of blood and whatnot. So right after the movie, we go to bed. So I'm laying there, thinking about nothing. And then an image of the Homestar Runner pops into my head (I had finally gotten around to watching the new Homestar cartoon yesterday, so this is not weird.) What IS weird is this: okay, the picture I had in my head was Homestar in 3/4 profile, right? Suddenly his eyes pop out like real eyes (big white balls with black pupils), and then they go bloodshot, and then blood spurts out from behind them and his eyes pop out of his head and his head splits open down the center and all this blood shoots out like someone hit him from behind with an axe. All in my head -- and I'm awake this whole time. I know, "Ah!", right? So I'm laying there thinking "what the fuck?" and then Mitch says something to me, conversationally, and I respond, and meanwhile I can't stop these images from appearing to me, now it's just random images of anime heads being destroyed, with blood eveywhere, in quick succession, boom boom boom. I think of saying something to him, but I know how crazy it would sound, so I don't mention it. I lay there trying to think of something that CAN'T be destroyed by an axe, so I think "Homestar!" but no, there he goes again. Splat. So I try to think of sex, or something, and I guess it works, because eventually I fall asleep.
But here's the weird part (that wasn't the weird part!): none of this was very disturbing. I mean, it disturbed me that these images were coming to mind so vividly, without my consent; but the images themselves didn't bother me. And I didn't have any bad dreams, didn't wake up screaming, didn't even wake up with a feeling of dread. Nothing.
This type of thing doesn't happen to me; I can't remember the last time something so cliche scary happened to me at night. Usually my bad dreams are more abstract or absurd than that. But it reminded me of this time when I was real young -- maybe five or six -- and I had a nightmare that in my bedroom, in the dark, were myriad eyes, angry eyes, glaring at me. Only they were cartoon eyes -- like how in cartoons, all you can see in the darkness are eyes? And I knew they were cartoons, and therefore couldn't be real; but whether I closed my own eyes or opened them, there they were, and I didn't know what to do. I can't remember what I eventually did in that situation, whether I went to my parents or not -- I don't think I did, I think I just eventually fell asleep.
But so there it is again -- dreams whose subject matters are totally disconnected from the emotions they evoke. Man, that human brain. Never ceases to amaze.