Review: The original Dracula

Dracula, 1931, 75 minutes, Universal, black and white. Directed by Tod Browning. Starring Bela Lugosi as Count Dracula, Helen Chandler as Mina Seward, Dwight Frye as Renfield, David Manners as Jonathan Harker and Edward Van Sloan as Dr. Van Helsing. Schlock-Meter rating: 9 and 1/2 stars out of 10.

As a film, Dracula too often appears like a stage play. Most of the actors aren't particularly strong, and the climax of the film (Dracula's death) foolishly takes place off screen. Nevertheless, thanks to Bela Lugosi -- and to a lesser extent Dwight Frye -- the film remains a classic, a true cult film that brings viewers back for repeat visits to Transylvania, foggy London and Carfax Abbey, the lair of the Count. The plot: Dracula prepares for a move to London. He drives Renfield (a Londoner in Transylvania to help him move), mad, and then arrives in London. He soon ingratiates himself with the Seward family, and lusts for the blood of two ladies. He is foiled when a family friend (Van Sloan) suspects he is a vampire, and pretty Mina Seward (Chandler) is saved when Dracula is destroyed.

Lugosi's performance is magnificent. He is truly the Count, with his urbane charm, his sly humor (I never drink ... wine.), his greedy eyes sighting blood, his melodramatic answers to questions, and his artful fencing with vampire hunter Van Helsing. However, few critics capture another personality of Lugosi's Dracula: His desire to die. In a poignant scene at an opera, Dracula expounds in melodramatic fashion the peace of death. One realizes in that scene the Count wants to die, that he's as much a prisoner of fate as his victims. He simply lacks the will power to end his long existence.

Frye's Renfield is marvelous. He succeeds in convincing viewers that the secret of the Count -- discovered first hand -- is so horrible that it would drive anyone insane. His mad chuckles when discovered on a deserted ship are chilling. Frye also conveys terror and adoration when pleading with Dracula late in the film. Manners and Chandler are barely adequate as two lovers threatened by Lugosi's Dracula, but Van Sloan is pretty strong as Van Helsing. He manages a sense of humor despite the seriousness of his task, and reminds me of Donald Pleasance's slightly crazy psychiatrist who pursued monster Michael Meyers in Halloween.

Lugosi's eyes, used to seduce victims, are hypnotic. He knew this character -- he'd played Dracula on Broadway. Director Browning conveys atmosphere early in the film with scenes of a coach in the wilds of Transylvania and a ship tossed at sea. Unfortunately, the last two-thirds of the film is often too static and talky. But every scene with Lugosi is a pleasure, and he turns an ordinary film into a classic of the genre.

-- Doug Gibson

Review: Dracula's Daughter

Dracula's Daughter, 1936, Black and White, Universal, 71 minutes. Directed by Lambert Hillyer. Starring Gloria Holden as Countess Marya Zaleska, Otto Kruger as Dr. Jeffrey Garth, Marguerite Churchill as Janet Blake, Edward Van Sloan as Professor Van Helsing, Gilbert Emery as Sir Basil Humphrey and Irving Pichel as Sandor. Schlock-meter rating: Nine stars out of 10.

Dracula's Daughter was not a box office success when released in 1936. It seems that a lady villain who sucked blood failed to grasp audiences. That was the 1930s' loss. Dracula's Daughter is a magnificent sequel. It can even be argued that it is superior to the original Dracula. Gloria Holden, as the doomed daughter of the Count, radiates feral sensuality. She bemoans her fate, yet eagery succumbs to its temptations. Her mannerisms, her facial gestures, all her personality are filled with the needy arrogance of a vampire. Still, like her father, she longs to be free of the undead curse. Holden's countess is a lonely woman. Her eyes do a wonderful job of expressing that lust for companionship.

Here's the plot: Dracula's death has been discovered. Van Helsing is under suspicion by London's finest. Countess Zaleska (Holden) arrives to take the Count's remains, claiming to be his daughter. With her is a creepy servant named Sandor (Pichel). Zaleska rejoices, believing that Dracula's death has freed her from vampirism. She is wrong, of course, and continues to seek blood from the living. In one scene, she bleeds a young prostitute named Lili. Many critics claim there's strong overtones of lesbianism in that scene. While the scene is slightly erotic, I doubt that was in the minds of the filmmakers.

Zaleska soon seeks help from Dr. Jeffrey Garth, a semi-irritable psychiatrist. This belief that vampirism could be cured through medicine and psychology was a theme of several 1940s Universal horror films. The countess receives little help from psychiatry, but gets the hots for the doctor. He rebuffs her advances, so she takes off for Transylvania with his fiance (Churchill). The doctor, Van Helsing and policeman Sir Basil Humphrey (Emery) take off in pursuit.

I haven't said much about Pichel's role as Sandor, Zaleska's evil servant. He is brilliant, with his white pasty face, eerie accent, and silent grin that seems to know more than he's supposed to. He knows the countess is doomed to continue her undead existence and subtly taunts her throughout the film. Old horror film fans will love this movie, and it's worth owning.

-- Doug Gibson