Article: Going Gothic - Dracula (1958)

Even though January is nearing its end, the days have remained gloomy. The night sky still appears to be darker than usual. In this cold, dark month I decided to watch a small collection of gothic features. These films are designed to chill the spines of those who watch them. However, I hope the films I picked, warmed my typing fingers as the cold nights set in. The first film is one I’ve never seen before. One I should have perhaps seen by now. Hammer Horror’s first Dracula entry.

Shockingly, I had seen Gerard Butler’s unremarkable display as Drac in the regrettable Dracula 2000 (2000) before I’d seen any of Christopher Lee’s iconic turns in the role. More fool me. The bigger surprise came when I realised the number of creative liberties the Hammer adaptation takes with the material. Terrence Fisher’s Dracula is abridged and truncated in ways that would make modern fanboys lose their mind. Budget limitations and time constraints ensured that canon was not the main concern. Because of this, Dracula, or Horror of Dracula as it was retitled in America, becomes a rather lean revenge thriller. Having a similar affected production situation as a Marc Forster Bond film, one could call this version of Dracula A Quantum of Coffins. Not like that makes a lick of sense, but then again did Quantum of Solace?

Bad jokes aside, this Dracula rendition feels streamlined because it's leaner than turkey. Many of the bones of Stoker's original story remain. However, the changes implemented in the story alter the fabric of the narrative substantially. One example occurs right at the beginning of the movie in which Johnathan Harker travels to see Count Dracula in the guise of a commercial venture. Unlike Bram Stoker's original story where Harker is rather innocently heading to Dracula Transylvania for real estate matters, in this Hammer rendition, Harker is travelling to Klausenburg intending to kill Dracula already on his mind. Harker’s already-acquired knowledge about vampires is a startling twist. So also, is his fate in which Harker is dispatched early in the film. This sets forth an altered arrangement of the sequences and characters from the original narrative. Here Dracula feels like a strongly concentrated vendetta upon the Harker and his kin.

Of course, Dracula‘s hunting and stalking have always been predatory. But there’s a joyless, tragic nature to proceedings here that’s not always sensed in other renditions of Dracula. In John L Flynn’s Cinematic Vampires: The Living Dead on Film and Television, Christopher Lee states how he saw the character: "I've always tried to put an element of sadness, which I've termed the loneliness of evil, into his character.” Lee’s Dracula seems hellbent on dragging Harker and those around him down. The loneliness that Lee considers can be felt after the film when you realise that Dracula only has sixteen lines in the whole picture. He’s said all of them by the 10-minute mark. Most if not all of them are shared between himself and Harker, the man who has set his sights on killing him. Lee also says of his development of the character “Dracula doesn't want to live, but he's got to! He doesn't want to go on existing as the undead, but he has no choice." This brings a strange underlying tension to the narrative. Nothing is shocking about a vampire with a death wish, fighting to survive. However, in fighting against Harker and embarking on an aggressive attack on everyone he loves, the “plague” of Dracula feels concentrated in a way that differs from other versions.

It’s a stark contrast to Francis Ford Coppola’s 90s overblown adaptation of the material which focuses heavily on the idea of Dracula being so deeply bereft of love that his need of Mina is a love that bleeds through the ages. Coppola’s OTT interpretation of the material is extremely on the nose. In one of its more memorable sequences, a literal beast ravishes a young woman during a storm. The '58 Dracula, despite its bold colour palette, honking score and dramatic performances, is more subtle in its design, and more controlled in its metaphors. This can be considered in the aftermath of the first attack on Mina by Dracula. Van Helsing has Mina’s husband Arthur give her a transfusion due to the amount of blood loss. The process is straightforward and clinical in its execution. Drained of cinematic flair or fancy. The procedure also feels unemotional given the relationship between the two patients. This sexlessness in the operation helps distinguish the eroticism given by Lee’s Dracula. Fisher believed that Dracula preyed upon the sexual frustrations of his female victims. And felt that the relationship between Arthur and Mina was a sexually frustrated one. Mina, much like Lucy earlier on in the film, never hides the anticipation of her and Dracula's encounters.

Removing precautions and defences to ensure his presence. And while Dracula’s encounters are never explicit, we see the profound desire he creates with his victims in the aftermath.  Mina’s transfusion with Arthur is as mannered and stiff as their interactions. The irony is that the lifesaving operation involving her husband holds no allure as opposed to becoming Dracula’s undead bride. Lee places a stamp on this in an interview with Leonard Wolf:

 "He had also to have an erotic element about him (and not because he sank his teeth into women) ... It's a mysterious matter and has something to do with the physical appeal of the person who's draining your life. It's like being a sexual blood donor... Women are attracted to men for any of hundreds of reasons. One of them is a response to the demand to give oneself, and what greater evidence of giving is there than your blood flowing literally from your own bloodstream? It's the complete abandonment of a woman to the power of a man."

Arthur and Dracula might be both doing the same thing. But when it comes to one of them, things just hit differently.

What makes the 1958 Dracula stand out is the remarkable way that it is still quite startling. Today’s audiences may perhaps have a more sophisticated palette and are less scared of repressed sexuality in technicolour. However, Lee’s Dracula brings a varied distillation to the vampire templates set by Bela Lugosi in Tod Browning’s Dracula (1931) and Max Scheck in Nosferatu (1919). His tall, dominating presence is something other incarnations of Dracula don’t necessarily have. His charming, British manner early on is in stark contrast to the “foreign” persona of Lugosi and Gary Oldman in Coppola’s 90s rendition. The othering that inhabits some versions of the character could now be seen as kitsch. It’s not surprising that Lugosi’s version is still ripe for parody. But the elaborate politeness from Lee in the few scenes in which he has lines, disorient the viewer for when Dracula acts. The most shocking moment is when Dracula reveals himself to Harker early on. The shot switches unexpectedly from a typical mid shot to an extreme, shocking close of Dracula’s face. Blood is dripping from his mouth.  His eyes are bulging and bloodshot. His smile is manic and unhinged. It’s difficult to believe it’s the same person smattering Harker a few scenes ago. Fisher and editor Bill Lenny use a similar tactic when Lucy tries to lure Tania, daughter of the Holmwood’s maid, to a graveyard. Both close-ups of Dracula and Lucy emphasise the drastic change undertaken by the characters and how uncanny and removed they now are from society. For all the lavish art direction and effects in Coppola’s version of the story, nothing in it captures the simple sinisterness found here. From the narrative change involving Harker to the very simple scares that are found in the movie. This Dracula is the most unsettling of the versions I’ve seen.

There’s a boldness in the film’s presentation which sets Dracula ’58 apart from its counterparts. Its narrative changes help maintain a sense of loss and tragedy. Its colour and eroticism set itself apart from what came before it. The simplicity of the storytelling makes it more memorable than the films that come after it. Christopher would become Dracula 6 more times for Hammer and was Dracula ten times in total. It was a role that, while perhaps his most iconic, one that he never truly relished, despite what he infused into it. He may not have necessarily enjoyed the work, but he is perhaps the person who wanted to understand the assignment best. Funny how these things happen.

 

I caught Dracula streaming on Amazon Prime.

Dug what you read? Support me on Ko-fi

 

 

Article - A quick look back at Interview with a Vampire

Neil Jordan’s film Interview with a Vampire has reached 30 years old this year. A discovery I made when I decided to watch my DVD copy to overcome the near-daily paralysis by film choice. Like so many of my peers, I have to forcibly stick with an immediate film choice or else be cursed to doomscroll for the rest of the evening. So camp, beautiful, depressed vampires abound! Interview with a Vampire is one of those films I always didn’t mind watching. However, narrative fragments fall out of my head despite multiple viewings. This time, I tried to reconcile my issues with a film I enjoyed most of despite holding it at arm's length.

Based on the 1976 Anne Rice novel of the same name, Interview with a Vampire tells the angsty story of Louis (Brad Pitt), a previously widowed slave owner who chronicles his centuries-long life as a creature of the undead. From his transformation by malicious vampire Lestat (Tom Cruise) to his parental relationship with Claudia (Kirsten Dunst), a young girl who has turned into a vampire through unfortunate circumstances.

Interview with A Vampire perhaps was infamously known for Anne Rice’s anger at Cruise being picked for the role of Lestat. Her anger quickly quelled after watching the performance by Cruise. A turn that is still considered as one of his most memorable. Lestat always felt like a landmark role for Cruise. It marks the first time the actor toyed with the role of anti-hero. But it’s also significant that while the homoeroticism of Top Gun was more of a byproduct than a necessity of that film, it is baked into Interview with a Vampire in a way that can't be ignored. Being the early 90s an element of brevity can be seen in one of Hollywood's notable golden boys playing a character who is so against type. In looking at Cruise’s filmography, his most alluring performances are when he decides to go against the grain. His roles that play against or challenge his more typical masculinity are almost always more interesting than when he embraces it. Give me Eyes Wide Shut (1999), Magnolia (1999), or this over the ongoing Mission Impossible movies he’s seemingly resigned to do. Cruise’s Lestat is one of the few times he unlocks the sociopathic side. It worked so well that Rice took out a two-page spread in Variety praising his performance and admitting she was wrong.

Cruise’s brash Lestat dampers Brad Pitt’s turn as Louis formidably. The contrast is palpable and possibly stems from Pitt’s depression when working on the film. The long dark days of a six-month stint in London had got to him so badly that he asked producer David Geffen how much it would cost to get out of the movie. The price? $40 million. Pitt’s passive Louis is a cypher, with none of the visual tics that the actor became known for. Interview with a Vampire trades in on his beauty, but none of the viral sexuality or energy that made him interesting in his earlier 90s films and beyond. It’s an overly mannered performance which comes off as flat and laboured. All the industry goes to Tom.

While an unevenness between the two leads exists, Interview is still an interesting artefact in that the homoeroticism still simmers under the lid. To see these now Hollywood heavyweights play out petty, catty arguments with each other like a middle-aged couple feels radical. As does the unconventional family unit between two male vampires and Claudia (a fantastically firey Kirsten Dunst), the child sired almost out of pity by Lestat. And we must remember Antonio Banderas, an Almodóvar fave, turning up in the latter stages. The film has more than a little queer credential. Allegedly Anne Rice’s fear of Hollywood’s homophobia was so great that at one point, she turned in a rewritten version of the film with a female Louis, with Cher in consideration for the role. By sticking to their guns Neil Jordan creates a far more engaging piece. It’s something you didn’t see a ton of in the 90s: a highly budgeted, queer horror film with Hollywood A-Listers. The only thing that comes close is perhaps one of Jordan’s influences on the film: Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula (1992) which came two years before it. Although Coppola’s film outdoes Interview for out and out horniness.

Were the dark, gothic Vampires the perfect creatures for the cynical 90s era? Interview with a Vampire and Dracula suggest this. Both films were not only large in scale, and rich in detail. They were also big on existential malaise and deep-seated longing. In Interview, this is perhaps best exhibited in the unfortunate character of Claudia. Growing older in mind, but never in physicality, Claudia is possibly the saddest string in Interview’s bow. Along with the idea that vampires must keep in touch with the world as it changes and evolves. A latter scene involving Lestat alludes to a feeling of immortal senility as it is shown that he has not kept up with the changing times of the world.

It's perhaps fitting that Interview with a Vampire also feels trapped in a cocoon of its era despite its then-progressive handling of sexuality. In the latter half of the decade, Bloodsuckers had somewhat shed the angst brought on by Coppola and Jordan. Instead, vampire films began to get their bite back. With films which seemed more in tune with the grubby grit of Kathryn Bigalow’s Near Dark (1987) or even Joel Schumacher’s The Lost Boys (1987).  People seemed less interested in seeing vampires as mopey sad bois on film. The latter section of the 90s gave us From Dusk Till Dawn (1996), Vampires (1998) and Blade (1998). Although the Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV series (1997) managed to keep brooding, gothic guys alive until Twilight (2009). That said, even creator Joss Wheadon had an innate desire to subvert elements of the gothic vampire tropes when looking back at his first attempt at the Buffy universe as a feature film.

The edgy vamps of the latter end of the decade illustrate one of Interview's weaknesses. After a while, these haunted sad sacks stop being engaging. Looking back at the film during this rewatch, I found the inner turmoil of Louis rather bland. Cruise’s Lestat, the driving force behind all the most entertaining aspects of the film, goes missing for most of the film's second half. While the film’s narrative dissipates once the action moves to Paris. The introduction of Antonio Banderas and Stephen Rea should be a boon for the story. Both actors put in decent turns. But the problem is that Louis remains uniquely unsympathetic throughout. It’s easy to feel like Lestat; infuriated with Louis's supposed “goodness” despite there being very little to him. One suspects the novel's success lies in how Rice rounds out the character. If any book fans stumble on this piece, let me know.

And it’s with this that I realised my issue with Interview with a Vampire. Despite the lavish detail and exciting, over-the-top performances from Cruise, Rea and Banderas, Louis is just a dull interviewee. Even with everything being told to an excited Christian Slater. In addition to the later stages' lack of narrative propulsion, Pitt's central performance highlights the trouble I now find with this gothic drama. But I can never be too harsh on it. Looking back on its release 30 years ago, what I also see is the kind of gateway drug to overblown, gothic horror that is always warmly welcomed by myself. Despite my issues with the material. Which is why I probably still own the DVD.    

(4

Review: Foxcatcher

Year: 2014 (2015 U.K release)

Director: Bennett Miller

Screenplay: E. Max Frye, Dan Futterman

Starring: Channing Tatum, Steve Carrell, Mark Ruffalo

Synopsis is here

There’s a mordant sense of humour running through Miller’s Foxcatcher that creeps up from time to time. Something you shouldn’t think should appear and yet is quite welcoming when it does. Watching protagonist (Tatum) strain his reasons on why winning Olympic gold is important, to a bunch of wide eyed, befuddled children has a quiet drollness to it. As is the twisted matter of Bennet Miller’s American true crime drama is ultimately a Greek Tragedy of dysfunctional families, set within the world of competitive wresting, which of course became prominent in Ancient Greece.

It’s too bad that despite having such a sense of self, Foxcatcher is such a distancing slog to get through. It’s a film which is competently crafted and features a trio of performances which, with their differing areas of physicality, do raise an eyebrow from scene to scene. The first, awkward engagement between Tatum’s Mark Schultz and his brother Dave (Ruffalo) is such an interesting jumbled mess of sibling tension and force I had high hopes for where the rest of the film was heading. Unfortunately, two considerably long hours later, I found myself still no deeper than the scratches that may have been caused during this first grapple. The tragedy between these brothers is indeed upsetting, but Miller’s remarkably static film did little to stir.

The film is understandably meant to be a little cold, as the characters we follow the most are not only unlikely bedfellows, but difficult people to engage with due to their simmering tensions between class and family. The scene in which Steve Carrell’s John E du Pont first meets Dave and his family is one of the more potent moments. Miller’s simple blocking of the scene easily show the division between the blue collar yet connected family, and the isolated aristocrat trying to purchase his way into such a warm relationship. Such moments highlight the discomfort accordingly.

Despite this, I found myself so alienated by the films blunt, matter of fact approach, I struggled to identify fully with the proceedings. This is obviously not a film to “enjoy” in the typical sense, yet at no point did my own defences go down for what was happening on the screen. The films immensely dour approach and turgid pace overshadowed the films main attractions: The cast.

Channing Tatum’s Mark is brusque and stoic creature. His jutted out jaw, furrowed brow and physical stature, hides his character’s naïve ideals which slowly seep through as the film pushes on. The roles help show the actor’s ability to corrupt the dumb, man child nature that many have known him for when cast the amusing Jump Street films. Mark Ruffalo; ever the effective character actor, morphs his poise beautifully as he becomes the film’s heart. He makes being the film only emotional link look far too easy for his own good. The intensely creepy Du Pont has Carrell channeling his inner Bela Lugosi to good measure. However, observing the real Du Pont, makes the clipped mannerisms of Carrell feel a tad overblown. There’s also a feeling that delving into the grey matter of such a troubled being is a step too far. As such, Du Pont feels a lot like a cartoon boogeyman stuck in a high class crime reconstruction. The heavy makeup doesn’t help matters.

Between this and Moneyball, Bennett Miller is locating fascinating subject matter within modern sports to focus his energies on. Foxcatcher however, does little to make me delve into the backstories of this unfortunate event in the same way that Moneyball opened my eyes to the modern ideas that lay within America’s favourite pastime. If I saw myself viewing this film again, there’s a good chance I’d be tapping out early.