I'm a fan of Hammer horror films in general, but my acquaintance was born from late-night rarities seen in black and white: neither their famous "Dracula" nor "Frankenstein" have managed to live up to expectations created by their later work. Not only did I not think this was the greatest horror film ever made, I discovered to my disappointment that it didn't even seem to be an especially good Hammer film.
The colour balance of the new BFI-sponsored print seems to be a bit off, which is a shame after all the trouble of getting fresh prints made. The one made in the 1980s apparently now has very serious fading issues, having developed a strong red cast; the new version still manages to have the Eastmancolor 'look'. The colour lacks Technicolor intensity, but doesn't look naturalistic either: I'm not sure if this is an issue with the original negative or a decision made while tweaking the separations for the restoration. But this really isn't a significant problem for the film as such, which has other issues.
"Dracula" actually starts off quite promisingly. The plot is changed significantly from the Bram Stoker version -- more or less a Hammer trademark: witness their take on "The Hound of the Baskervilles" -- as Jonathan Harker first encounters a damsel in distress who is not what he (and the audience) initially assumes, and then is revealed, in a strangely jolting moment, to be rather less of an innocent abroad than Stoker would have had him. With the revelation that Harker is deliberately running his head into the noose, preceding scenes take on a different resonance and the audience is dislodged from its comfort zone: we literally don't know what's going to happen next.
For my money, Christopher Lee is used best in these castle scenes. For the rest of the film he's barely a character at all, just an off-stage plot mechanic. In these scenes he actually gets to react to events, whether he is playing the suave host or dragging his vampire bride off the throat of his guest (who, in a movement of confused chivalry, tries to intervene in her favour). And he is very fast and dangerous. The effect whereby Lee's footsteps were brushed out of the soundtrack -- so that we see two men walking together but hear the footsteps of only one -- is subtle but well worthy of note.
But after this I felt the film went downhill. The villagers' acting in the inn scene didn't seem that good, and the whole scene has little bearing on the remainder of the plot: there is no apparent significance to the fact that the locals seem to be shielding the Count. And Michael Gough as Arthur Holmwood manages to be plain annoying; I suppose the character is a bit of a prig in the novel, but Gough combines that with sheer bad acting. Perhaps he simply wasn't comfortable with 'slumming' in a Hammer production? In the scenes he shares with Cushing, the contrast is all too obvious: Cushing makes his lines sound credible and natural, while Gough sounds as if he's forcing an over-reaction -- with the episode in Lucy's crypt a particular case in point.
The ladies are largely Hammer stock types: there's an awful lot of running around in filmy night-dresses in this film, and the characters have a very obviously 'period' look. Unfortunately it's the period in which the film was made rather than the one in which it's intended to be set...
More seriously, some aspects of the plot are far from clear: we naturally assume that the Holmwoods are based in England (especially given Harker's long and arduous journey), but it is suddenly implied at a very late stage that they are apparently living in Switzerland and somehow only a few hours' travel away from Castle Dracula itself! The status of the little girl who calls Lucy 'aunt' and is on familiar terms with Mina is also unclear for a long time -- the obvious conclusion is that she is the daughter of the house with Gerda as her governess, but eventually we are told for some reason that she is the servant's child. These points are neither explained nor made plain.
Peter Cushing is excellent throughout, and supplies almost all the subtlety in the film. Memorable is the scene where he steels himself to stake his own colleague, and the instant cut to the Holmwoods' house where he is understandably reluctant to admit just how Harker died; the line where Arthur points out that the supporting death certificate has been signed by Dr van Helsing himself gains a far more worthwhile laugh than the rather tedious clowning later on. Cushing has a good deal of exposition to get through, and always delivers it naturally and convincingly. There is no hint of blood-lust in him; he has no liking for what he has to do, but he does not shrink from it either. The scene where he is comforting the little girl in the graveyard has been rightly cited as an exemplar of sensitivity and intelligence.
Alas, the much-trumpeted death scene at the end is a masterpiece of over-reliance on special effects to the detriment of pacing. Dracula thrashes around losing limbs one by one -- first a foot goes, then an arm -- until I was reminded of Monty Python's Black Knight: and the final scene, where his face is supposed to crumble away, is largely undermined by a penultimate shot showing a pair of bright plastic eyeballs sticking out of a dust-plastered mask. Frankly, more effective horror in my opinion would have been to start with the scene where he is on the floor covering his face in agony, and then cut straight to the image of the trouser-leg collapsing into dust in close-up. The rest could be left far more unpleasantly to the viewer's imagination.
The colour balance of the new BFI-sponsored print seems to be a bit off, which is a shame after all the trouble of getting fresh prints made. The one made in the 1980s apparently now has very serious fading issues, having developed a strong red cast; the new version still manages to have the Eastmancolor 'look'. The colour lacks Technicolor intensity, but doesn't look naturalistic either: I'm not sure if this is an issue with the original negative or a decision made while tweaking the separations for the restoration. But this really isn't a significant problem for the film as such, which has other issues.
"Dracula" actually starts off quite promisingly. The plot is changed significantly from the Bram Stoker version -- more or less a Hammer trademark: witness their take on "The Hound of the Baskervilles" -- as Jonathan Harker first encounters a damsel in distress who is not what he (and the audience) initially assumes, and then is revealed, in a strangely jolting moment, to be rather less of an innocent abroad than Stoker would have had him. With the revelation that Harker is deliberately running his head into the noose, preceding scenes take on a different resonance and the audience is dislodged from its comfort zone: we literally don't know what's going to happen next.
For my money, Christopher Lee is used best in these castle scenes. For the rest of the film he's barely a character at all, just an off-stage plot mechanic. In these scenes he actually gets to react to events, whether he is playing the suave host or dragging his vampire bride off the throat of his guest (who, in a movement of confused chivalry, tries to intervene in her favour). And he is very fast and dangerous. The effect whereby Lee's footsteps were brushed out of the soundtrack -- so that we see two men walking together but hear the footsteps of only one -- is subtle but well worthy of note.
But after this I felt the film went downhill. The villagers' acting in the inn scene didn't seem that good, and the whole scene has little bearing on the remainder of the plot: there is no apparent significance to the fact that the locals seem to be shielding the Count. And Michael Gough as Arthur Holmwood manages to be plain annoying; I suppose the character is a bit of a prig in the novel, but Gough combines that with sheer bad acting. Perhaps he simply wasn't comfortable with 'slumming' in a Hammer production? In the scenes he shares with Cushing, the contrast is all too obvious: Cushing makes his lines sound credible and natural, while Gough sounds as if he's forcing an over-reaction -- with the episode in Lucy's crypt a particular case in point.
The ladies are largely Hammer stock types: there's an awful lot of running around in filmy night-dresses in this film, and the characters have a very obviously 'period' look. Unfortunately it's the period in which the film was made rather than the one in which it's intended to be set...
More seriously, some aspects of the plot are far from clear: we naturally assume that the Holmwoods are based in England (especially given Harker's long and arduous journey), but it is suddenly implied at a very late stage that they are apparently living in Switzerland and somehow only a few hours' travel away from Castle Dracula itself! The status of the little girl who calls Lucy 'aunt' and is on familiar terms with Mina is also unclear for a long time -- the obvious conclusion is that she is the daughter of the house with Gerda as her governess, but eventually we are told for some reason that she is the servant's child. These points are neither explained nor made plain.
Peter Cushing is excellent throughout, and supplies almost all the subtlety in the film. Memorable is the scene where he steels himself to stake his own colleague, and the instant cut to the Holmwoods' house where he is understandably reluctant to admit just how Harker died; the line where Arthur points out that the supporting death certificate has been signed by Dr van Helsing himself gains a far more worthwhile laugh than the rather tedious clowning later on. Cushing has a good deal of exposition to get through, and always delivers it naturally and convincingly. There is no hint of blood-lust in him; he has no liking for what he has to do, but he does not shrink from it either. The scene where he is comforting the little girl in the graveyard has been rightly cited as an exemplar of sensitivity and intelligence.
Alas, the much-trumpeted death scene at the end is a masterpiece of over-reliance on special effects to the detriment of pacing. Dracula thrashes around losing limbs one by one -- first a foot goes, then an arm -- until I was reminded of Monty Python's Black Knight: and the final scene, where his face is supposed to crumble away, is largely undermined by a penultimate shot showing a pair of bright plastic eyeballs sticking out of a dust-plastered mask. Frankly, more effective horror in my opinion would have been to start with the scene where he is on the floor covering his face in agony, and then cut straight to the image of the trouser-leg collapsing into dust in close-up. The rest could be left far more unpleasantly to the viewer's imagination.