Universal’s "Dracula" And Hammer’s "Horror of Dracula"
By Renfield
("Dracula"/1931/Universal/Dir: Tod Browning; "Horror of Dracula/1957/Hammer/Dir: Terence Fisher)
Mention the term, "classic horror films," and two examples that most fans immediately think of are the two renowned treatments of late-nineteenth-century author Abraham Stoker’s undead Transylvanian count: Universal Studio’s "Dracula" and Hammer Film’s "Horror Of Dracula" ("Dracula" outside the US).
Both films advanced the fortunes of their respective studios and horror filmdon in general in remarkably similar ways. Universal’s "Dracula" helped rescue the studio that Carl Laemmle built from financial woes, established the legitimacy and profitability of film treatments of horror (we have horror films today largely due to the success of "Dracula"), and made it’s lead a star. Similarly, "Horror of Dracula" filled Hammer’s coffers when they urgently needed filling, re-established the legitimacy and profitability of horror films (the Sixties wave of horror films from Italy, England, and the US was spurred by the one-two box-office punch of "Curse of Frankenstein" and "Horror of Dracula"), and made its two leads into international stars.
Produced many decades apart, the two films also differ enormously, of course. Watching them one after the other—which we recommend highly—the US and British versions of Dracula would seem to have only the basic storyline in common. Fans and critics agree that, of the two cinematic "Draculas," the Hammer version has far more for a modern fan of the genre to sink his fangs into.
It’s certainly understandable; compare and contrast the 1931 Universal Dracula with its stagy sets and immobile camera, its exaggerated theatrical acting and off-screen action, its talky, set-bound script, and its now somewhat grainy black and white photography and lack of music score (aside from the title sequence where "Swan Lake" booms ominously) with Hammer’s florid, fleshy Technicolor terror-treat.
Some critics do find worth in Universal’s "Dracula," but only as a gothic set piece with Bela Lugosi’s over-the-top (gloriously, immortally over-the-top) performance alone worthy of note. (Dwight Frye’s delightfully demented Renfield and Edward Van Sloan’s stolidly heroic Van Helsing sometimes receive honorable mention.) On the other hand, "Horror Of Dracula" is a real movie, with grand, stirring music, professional yet bravura performances, gorgeous set design, and action—lots of action—and blood—well, only a few dollops of blood, really, and only if you don’t own the TV-censored version of the film.
Critical snipping aside, it’s true—Universal’s Dracula is a gothic piece—but so is "Horror of Dracula."
"Dracula" is a staged, mannered Gothic production—a sort of "Wuthering Heights" with fangs. "Horror of Dracula" is a penny-dreadful, fire-and-brimstone Gothic production, a filmed "Varney The Vampire." Compared to the proper and even prim "Dracula," "Horror Of Dracula" is a real bodice-ripper, seething with human terror, forbidden desires, and vampiric lust. It is, in fact, a far more faithful rendering of the muted undercurrents that made Stoker’s book a hit in late Victorian England than the 1931 film. Simply put, it’s just a heck of a lot more enjoyable than Universal’s filmed stage play. I prefer Hammer’s Dracula to Universal’s and I really haven’t met anyone who doesn’t.
But, on this Halloween month, let’s give Universal’s Dracula it’s due. Certainly, the first reel, with its wonderfully creepy depiction of Castle Dracula, the dusty tomb, spiderwebbed staircase, and huge ruined hall, not to mention Lugosi’s Dracula rising majestically yet eerily from his coffin with his three vampiric wives in close attendance are first-rate. If only Director Tod Browning could have kept that atmosphere, that flavor, to the reels that followed. Alas, Browning took the easy, comfortable route, confident that the mere filming of the stage play would galvanize movie audiences just as the theatrical version had. He was right, of course; but time has not been kind to the latter two-thirds of his cinematic vampire tale. Once we and Dracula leave Transylvanian and the doomed ship that carries him to England, "Dracula" becomes a drawing-room drama with lots of dialogue, very little action (and most of it off-screen), and a minimum of genuine chills. Of the supporting cast, only Frye’s Renfield and Van Sloan’s Van Helsing lift the production above pure tedium.
But then, there’s Lugosi—hammy but arresting, melodramatic but compelling. Certainly, his rendition of Dracula has become a joke to generations; yet he so indelibly made the part his own that his interpretation of the Count is instantly recognizable world-wide, over 65 years after it flickered on movie screens. This is a quantum achievement, equaled only perhaps (ironically) by Boris Karloff’s Frankenstein and Basil Rathbone’s Sherlock Holmes. Snicker if you wish, but Lugosi’s Dracula is not forgotten and likely never will be.
Of course, it’s much easier to howl the praises of Hammer’s "Dracula." From the quiet, well-mannered beginning (very much like the novel with Jonathan Harker taking coach to Castle Dracula) to Christopher Lee’s cool, calm initial portrayal of Count Dracula, to his almost literal transformation from well-mannered man into snarling beast when his vampiric squeeze puts the bite on Harker, it’s a cinematic roller coaster ride, one worth taking again and again. The introduction of Peter Cushing’s athletic, clinical, yet kindly Van Helsing adds another rich layer to an already sumptuous feast of color, action, and chills. The memorable, pounding music score, the almost non-stop action and then that finale—Van Helsing running on top of the long table in Dracula’s castle, leaping for the heavy drapes through which the risen sun is peeking, tearing them down, and then, as Dracula writhes in agony as the sun sears him, forming the cross with candlesticks to force the Prince of Darkness back, back, back into the light and a still effective meltdown. Check your pulse at the conclusion of this final scene; if it isn’t elevated despite the number of times you’ve already seen the film, you're deader than, well, poor old Drac himself.
This Halloween, forget about the one-upmanship costume party or bodyguarding the kids whilst they loot the neighbors. Instead, stay at home, set the candy outside so the kiddies can help themselves, settle back and pop these two horror classics one after the other into your VCR. They are both not only required horror viewing but also extremely enjoyable horror viewing. Trust me—you’ll "fang" me for it, or my moniker isn’t Renfield.
Review (c) Joe Meadows. Animated posters and gifs (c) www.matineetoday.com . Used with permission.
