Horror of Dracula (
1958
)
½

Directed By:
Runtime:
1h 22m

Hammer horror films were essentially frozen in amber for much of the company's active period. Just compare today's film to The Vampire Lovers (1970), a film that came out a decade and change later. The two films feature similar subject matter, with both being loose adaptations of a Gothic novel about blood-sucking monsters (Bram Stoker's Dracula and Sheriden Le Fanu's Carmilla respectively). Horror of Dracula and The Vampire Lovers (1970) even jumble up the names of a few characters, possible for copyright reasons. Both feature about the same level of blood and gore, though I'll admit that the later film does dial up the sex appeal by a considerable factor (an advantage of waning regulations and a lead actress as voluptuous as Ingrid Pitt). Indeed, both films star Peter Cushing as a heroic vampire slayer and are shot on many of the same sets! On a deeper level though, the two films share a common cosmology; they take place in a world full of evil predators that lust after hapless young women. A world where virtue and safety are one-in-the-same and both are under the watchful aegis of gray-headed men-of-action. The difference is that one was released in 1958, where it must have seemed like a revelation, the vanguard of a new more violent form of the classic Gothic horror format, while the other came out in 1970 when it could only appear as a tired and derivative hold-over from an earlier era. Horror of Dracula was one of the studios' first forays into neo-gothic horror, being predated only by the seminal Curse of Frankenstein (1957), yet already the signature Hammer style seems fully established. Throughout the late 1950s, 1960s and early 1970s, no studio's output was more consistent than Hammer. This would inevitably prove to be their downfall, as even the best formula turns stale after a while. But it's a great boon to us living in later days, as it means when the craving for a Hammer horror movie arises, literally any one of them will scratch the itch. These guys are more consistent than Shaw Brother's action movies!

Now, a key part of the Hammer formula was subtly reworking and twisting the classic stories, and while Horror of Dracula is not as inventive as The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) in this department, it nonetheless tinkers with the original story in some interesting ways. Most apparent from the beginning is that Johnathan Harker has not come to Castle Dracula simply to act as the count's solicitor, but instead he's come packing a few crosses and a bag full of stakes with every intention of slaying the undead abomination. As far as changes to the formula go, it's a welcome one because it saves us the tedious routine of watching through Harker's eyes as he slowly realizes that his host is an inhuman monster. This was surprising in 1897 when Stoker's first novel was published (and perhaps a bit in Nosferatu (1922) for those that hadn't read the book), but by 1958 with a couple of dozen screen adaptations floating around, any suspense that could be gleaned from the sequence was effectively diluted. Naturally, Harker fails in his attempt on Dracula, but he does kill the count's negligee-clad bride. Dracula is not one to take such a slight laying down, so after killing Harker he quickly departs for Harker's own hometown of Klausenburg and begins the gradual process of stalking and drinking the blood of Johnathan's fiance, Lucy. A bride for a bride, Dracula is honorable, for a remorseless monster anyway.

It's at this point that Harker's mentor, Van Helsing arrives on the scene, and puts together the pieces of what's been going on in his absence. That's considerably easier for the good doctor than convincing anyone else of what is going on, as Harker's bourgeoisie relations Mina and Arthur Holmwood are not the sort to blindly accept stories of ghouls and goblins. Still, even Arthur can't completely discount Van Helsing's story when his sister Lucy dies from a bizarre case of anemia and then after three days (possibly a heretical joke at the expense of Christ) reanimates and begins to feed on local children. Though to his credit, once presented with irrefutable proof, Arthur is fully on board with any and all vampire slaying. His only qualm is that Lucy be put to rest rather than maintained in her undead state and used as a tool to track down Dracula's lair. This is a pretty foolish decision in hindsight because not only will Dracula now turn his attention to Mina but as the ending will reveal the vampires in this movie are the kind that regains their humanity when the Head Vampire is slain.

Christopher Lee makes a fine Dracula, though one that is quite different from the more famous Bela Lugosi portrayal. Sure the costume, including the iconic cape, is the same but in terms of mannerisms, Lee's Dracula has more in common with Max Shreck's performance in Nosferatu (1922). He barely speaks, save for the occasional utterance, and instead projects a steady aura of menace. Part of this is just the fact that Christopher Lee is a hulking figure, just shy of two meters tall, and has the look (in his youth anyway) of the sort of man who could tear you apart without breaking a sweat. Certainly, director Terence Fisher was aware of Lee's stage-presence, why else would he cast him as so many taciturn monsters (Lee would play Frankenstein's monster in the Curse of Frankenstein (1957) a year earlier and the titular monster in The Mummy (1959) a year later). As for Cushing, I always have trouble unseeing Grand Moff Tarkin whenever I look at him, and consequently I can never fully trust him in a heroic role. It's quite the accomplishment for the actor then, that when I was watching the film I never once thought of the villainous imperial commander (the fact that Cushing was still 20 years away from acquiring the gaunt, almost corpse-like appearance that made Tarkin so visually distinct helped somewhat). The film can also boast a performance by Michael Gough as Arthur Holmwood, though here he is nowhere near as unhinged (and consequently as entertaining) as he was in Horrors of the Black Museum (1959) or Konga (1961). There's only so much one can do with a character like Holmwood, maybe the filmmakers would have had better luck casting him as Renfield.

The action scenes, particularly the final confrontation between Van Helsing and Dracula, are dreadful. You didn't really need me to tell you that, this is, after all, a Western horror film (not even an adventure movie) made in 1958. It would be more shocking if the fight scenes were anything other than a tedious bore. Indeed, both Cushing and Lee are athletic actors who throw themselves into the action with a zest and energy that I cannot fault. Still, when the film devotes so much time to a physical confrontation, to have it turn out to be this lame is just frustrating. There's also a false sense of urgency immediately before the scene that adds to the central absurdity of the confrontation. Van Helsing warns that if Dracula makes it back to his castle, he will be able to hide and slumber for an age. Just how big are we suppose to think this castle is? Surely it can't be so vast that a huge vampire will be able to hide inside it for more than a month while Arthur and Van Helsing search the place. Surely it would have been better to make Mina's transformation into a full-fledged blood-sucker the ticking clock for why they have to confront Dracula as soon as possible.

The violence, for 1958 and for Britain especially, must have seemed downright atrocious when it was released. Unlike a lot of mid-century horror films, Horror of Dracula is not afraid to show us a bit of blood. The scene where Johnathan Harker stakes Dracula's bride is particularly graphic, to the point where I was genuinely surprised that Hammer was able to sneak so much gore by stuffed shirts at the British Board of Film Classification. The blood stands out pretty sharply because despite being a color film, Horror of Dracula is a lot drabber than its American or continental rivals (The Fall of the House of Usher (1960) and Black Sabbath (1963), respectively). The bright crimson of the blood leaps off the screen, and it's unmistakable when you see it dripping from the corner's of Dracula's mouth, or covering Van Helsing's hands after a staking. Less obvious, but even more surprising than the violence is the sexuality. The women being preyed on by Count Dracula seldom give the impression of anything less than complete, thrilling excitement at the prospect. Lucy, in particular, prepares for the Count's nightly visits with the air of a girl getting her room ready for her parents' out-of-town business trip.

Horror of Dracula is, to a certain extent, a victim of Hammer's early string of successes. On its own merits it would stand out as an innovative, bloody and finely-crafted vampire film, but in the shadow of such giants as The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958), and The Mummy (1959) it comes across as lacking. It mixes up the characters of the original novel, and plays with a few roles (most notably in making Harker an aspiring vampire slayer) but compared to the revolutionary work done in Hammer's Frankenstein movies (which upended the whole framework of the story by making Frankenstein himself the real monster and his undead abominations into pathetic victims) it can't help but come up short. Nor is it the near-perfect synthesis of a whole disparate cinematic heritage, like the way that The Mummy (1959) manages to draw on, and improve upon a whole series of old Hollywood horror movies. It's merely a damn good vampire story.