Dir: Terence Fisher. Cast: Peter Cushing, Michael Gough, Melissa Stribling, Christopher Lee, Carol Marsh, John Van Eyssen, Valerie Gaunt, Olga Dickie & Janina Faye. 1958
Revisiting the 2012 Hammer Films restoration of Dracula, which includes additional footage from its initial Japanese/Eastern European release, I was reminded of how Jimmy Sangster’s script streamlines what’s found in the source novel, and keeps the proceedings fresh and unpredictable for viewers familiar with author Bram Stoker’s most famous work, and from earlier screen adaptations.
Sangster’s script also nicely deals with (or eliminates) several moments that, even by the late 1950s, had become vampire/horror movie cliches, such as the coachman refusing to take Jonathan Harker (John Van Eyssen) all the way to Castle Dracula, the arrogant sneering at local traditions found in most other iterations of the story, and Dracula’s (Christopher Lee) barely contained, bug-eyed hunger at the sight of Harker cutting his finger. Even the fascinating, but difficult to convey without camp, character of Renfield is nowhere to be seen. It's apparent that Hammer had something very serious on its mind here.
And although it’s been written about ad nauseam, the emphasis, for the first time, on the eroticism inherent in the Dracula story is (in)famously clear and present.
On the latter note, something interesting I picked up on this time, whether it was intentional or not, is that, as Count Dracula makes his way to Harker to feed upon him, Dracula seems positioned as a sexual predator rather than as a creature solely intent on blood. To drive the point home, the scene ends with a fade to black, a transition that was frequently used to indicate a sexual moment that, based on era-specific sensibilities, the filmmakers would be unable to show on screen.
Later, as Doctor Van Helsing (Peter Cushing) searches Castle Dracula for his companion, Harker, he makes his way into Dracula’s bed chamber. There, we’re shown the corpse of the Count’s recently staked “bride” as well as, in another nearby coffin, the dormant and now vampiric Jonathan Harker. It’s as if Harker has replaced Dracula’s bride as bedroom companion. Again, it’s hard not to read this in some sort of sexual context.
Dracula was the second pairing of Cushing and Lee after The Curse of Frankenstein, the previous year’s box office hit for Hammer. The duo's continued shared screen appearances would become one of the hallmarks of what would be known as Hammer Horror.
Here, Cushing gives us a more contemporary take on Van Helsing than we’re used to. He’s solid, caring, and well versed in both science and superstition. His Van Helsing is a man of both compassion and action.
As for Lee… With all apologies to the great Bela Lugosi, who truly established the way that we see and understand Count Dracula, Christopher Lee has always been my favourite incarnation of the Count. Watching again, I was struck by the way Lee’s Dracula is so matter of fact as opposed to coy or arch, the speedy and agile manner in which he ascends and descends Castle Dracula’s main staircase, and the way he turns absolutely feral when his anger or feeding instincts are aroused.
In fact, it's one of the great moments in horror cinema the first time we see Lee as an enraged vampire. We've previously met him as a debonair and somewhat aloof nobleman, but here, we're wrapped up in a hurried conversation between Harker and the "Vampire Woman" (Carol Marsh), who is begging Harker to take her away from Castle Dracula.
Suddenly, in a shock cut, we find that Dracula has returned from feeding, and he's not having any of it. In light of our earlier introduction to the Count, we’re not prepared for the sight of the red-eyed, bloody-mouthed monster, shot in medium close up, and accompanied by the clash of cymbals on the soundtrack. It is perhaps the most effective introduction of the Count as vampire in cinema history. Perhaps the same can be said for the film itself. Dracula, or Horror of Dracula, is a bonafide classic.
