Yo, sucker: Cult Dracula
The Cannes Film Festival last night got its teeth into a re-release of the classic Hammer version of Bram Stoker's work - complete with scenes judged too gory for audiences in 1958. Ed Caesar and Arifa Akbar report on the premiere, while John Walsh profiles the men who will be forever associated with the vampire count
Friday, 18 May 2007
In one scene, a beautiful young woman is ravished to a bloodcurdling soundtrack of grunts and groans. In another, a stake is driven through the heart of a vampire in a crescendo of gore, guts and copious splatterings of luridly red blood. There are no polite cutaways and this is not for the faint-hearted. Welcome to Dracula: Uncut.
The news that the classic Hammer Horror filmCount Dracula is to be re-released confirms what we've known for a long time: that British audiences are still suckers for the Translyvanian vampire. Indeed, the British Film Institute has spent months restoring groans, blood and hammer blows from Christopher Lee's 1958 gothfest that the British Board of Film Censors originally considered too risqué.
The re-edited Dracula, which had its world premiere last night at Cannes and is planned to be shown in Britain in the near future, features several deleted scenes which were originally considered too risqué or downright disturbing by the censors at the time. And fans cannot wait to get their hands on it.
But why? What could there be in this hammy tale of an eastern European count and his adventures with the undead that could still interest a modern audience? In 110 years since the Irish novelist Bram Stoker first published Dracula, there have been hundreds of further books, films and programmes made featuring the fang-toothed haemoglobin junkie. Why dredge up another one?
The truth is that Dracula is to entertainment what blood is to vampires: once you've had your first taste, you just want more. Indeed, when Stoker released Dracula, the book enjoyed lukewarm interest from the public, even if the newspapers were enthusiastic in their reviews. British readers had been conditioned through the populist Gothic literature of the 19th century to take strange European aristocrats and supernatural activity in their stride. Dracula, for the first few years of its life at least, was no different to any number of 19th-century shockers.
After Stoker's death in 1912, though, came the adaptations. In 1922, the director F W Murnau made an unauthorised silent film version of the story entitled Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror - in which the lead character's name was changed to Nosferatu - and was subsequently sued by the Stoker estate. But several authorised versions followed.
A stage play, featuring its writer and director, Hamilton Deane, as Van Helsing, opened to acclaim in 1924. Three years later, a revised version appeared on Broadway, starring the Hungarian-born actor Bela Lugosi as Dracula. Universal Studios were so impressed with Lugosi's spooky performance of the count, they cast him in their 1931 feature, Dracula.
It would be the start of an unbroken love affair between Bram Stoker's villain and Hollywood. Between Lugosi's Dracula and the disappointing 2004 flick Van Helsing, the Count has appeared in no less than eight Universal Studios pictures. Between 1958 and 1974, meanwhile, the Hammer Horror stable released nine Dracula films, most starring Christopher Lee. The adaptations have continued to come thick and fast. Last Christmas, a new version of Dracula - featuring Marc Warren in the lead role - appeared on BBC1.
What is the appeal? Academics who have sought to pin down Dracula's continuing hold over us, often cite the erotic overtones. "What has become clearer and clearer," writes Leonard Wolf in the introduction to the 1992 edition, "is that the novel's power has its source in the sexual implications of the blood exchange between the vampire and his victims." Indeed, Brian Robinson, from the BFI's archive and heritage department, has said that when Lee's Dracula was first released, it was decidedly racy fare. "You're made to believe that Dracula is this sinister but very seductive figure," he said. "It was considered to be very adult entertainment."
But our fascination with Dracula is more than a desire to see maidens bitten. Somewhere along the line, Dracula stopped being a novel, or a film, and became a fetish - shorthand for the whole horror genre itself. Stakes, crosses and blood on the neck have become the features not just of a single work of fiction but of an entire industry designed to appal, terrify and delight its audiences. We still love Dracula, it seems, not because it scares us, but because it has become part of the furniture.
To horror fans, then, the BFI's announcement must have sounded sweet indeed. For, just as they have spent hours in the past discussing the relative merits of different Draculas down the ages, they can now argue whether a few more drops of blood have improved, or detracted from, one of the most beloved incarnations of their favourite story.
Christopher Lee, The Hammer Dracula
Tall, handsome, suave, and burning-eyed, Lee is the post-war audience's classic Dracula, the aristocratic bloodsucker gorging himself on bosomy local girls in drawstring blouses. He starred in Dracula, the first (1958) Hammer remake of the Tod Browning original; he makes a striking entrance, gliding down the stairs in a single long take. Thereafter, Lee reprised the role five times, in Dracula Prince of Darkness (1965), Dracula Has Risen From the Grave (1968), Taste the Blood of Dracula (1969) Scars of Dracula (1970) and the disastrously trashy Dracula AD1972 (guess). In the last-named, the Count materialises in the middle of a party of groovy London swingers after one Johnny Alucard suggests a little recreational devil-worship. Fans of anagrams should have seen that coming a mile away.
Bela Lugosi, The Hollywood Dracula
The original, prototypical, hammy-as-hell Dracula, he was born Bela Ferenc Dezso Blasko in Lugos, then Austria-Hungary in 1882. Exiled for union activity, he went to Germany and began appearing in films. He emigrated to America and found work in Hungarian-American theatre circles, where he was approached by Broadway producers and asked to appear in a stage play of Dracula. Despite his heavy accent (that "Goot eeefnink" was no affectation), he was a huge hit, and went on to star in Tod Browning's seminal 1931 film. Typecast forever after as a sinister eastern European, he appeared in The Raven, Son of Frankenstein, The Murders in the Rue Morgue and The Black Cat. His career revived under Ed Wood, the world's worst director, and he appeared (posthumously) in the world's worst-ever film, Plan 9 From Outer Space. When he died in 1956, he was buried wearing Dracula's cape.
Nosferatu, The German Dracula
When the great German director F W Murnau came to make this film in 1922, the producers found they couldn't obtain the rights to film Dracula. Undeterred, they cheekily altered some minor plot details and characters' names and came up with Nosferatu, Eine Symphonie des Grauens. Bram Stoker's widow filed for copyright infringement and most prints of the film were destroyed, but some survived and were seen after her death. The best thing about this silent film is Max Schreck as the vampire, a genuinely scary apparition with a wizened face, long ears, pointy fingers and hunched back. He's a potent threat to scientific rationalism as much to maidenly throats. This version was re-made in 1979 by Werner Herzog, the German visionary, with a freakish, rat-toothed Klaus Kinski as Nosferatu, and a consignment of 30,000 real-life rats among the cast.
George Hamilton IV, The Comic Dracula, in 'Love At First Bite'
Ridiculous but very funny 1979 spoof starring the smooth, orange-complexioned George Hamilton as Dracula. The toothy count flees his native, but now Communist, Transylvania rather share a cell with "12 dissidents and one toilet." He fetches up in modern New York and romances Susan Saint James. Magnificently be-cloaked and heroic, Hamilton achieves a certain ludicrous dignity. When the dawn light makes him hurry away from Saint James's bed, she says: "You gotta go? You don't have time for a little... quickie?" He replies from the doorway: "Viz you, nevair a qvickie. Always a longie."
Vlad the Impaler, The Inspiration For Dracula
Vlad Draculea, prince of 15th-century Wallachia, a state or "polity" of Romania,gave Bram Stoker the idea for his creation . Born in Sigisoara, Transylvania, to the north of Wallachia, he was historically significant for defending his territory again the expanding Ottoman Empire, but nobody remembers that now. Culturally significant as Vlad III the Impaler, notorious for the cruelty of his punishments, eg, spiking the (living) bodies of captives upon long spikes and letting the writhing victims gradually slide down in agony. When the Turks invaded Wallachia, he was imprisoned for 12 years. While incarcerated, he kept up his favourite pastime, torturing birds and mice and impaling them on tiny spikes. His long imprisonment led to his eyes and skin became abnormally sensitive to light - and that's where the night-loving vampire myth originated.
Gary Oldman, The Francis Ford Coppola Dracula
Francis Ford Coppola, the bearded genius behind The Godfather and Apocalypse Now, returned to the story's source to make Bram Stoker's Dracula in 1992. The result was fantastically stylish, ravishingly photographed and extremely erotic: among other things, it's Sadie Frost's finest hour, playing the bourgeois sexpot Lucy Westenra. Gary Oldman reimagines Dracula as a voluptuary, rapturously running across his tongue a razor bloodied by Keanu Reeves's inept shaving. The most significant part of the film is the prologue, which offers (for once) the spectacle of Vlad the Impaler hearing the news of his wife's suicide, after hearing false reports that he died in the recent Turkish invasion. Realising that, as a suicide, her soul is damned to hell, he renounces God and says he will return from the grave to avenge her death. A spectacular dramatisation of the myth behind the myth.
Bram Stoker, Author of 'Dracula'
Bram was short for Abraham Stoker, born in Dublin 1847. He had a dull existence as a civil servant until he discovered the theatre. At 31 he became secretary and touring manager for the great actor/manager Henry Irving, with whom he stayed for 27 years and whom he immortalised in volumes of fond reminiscence. Wrote some stories and (wholly forgotten) novels, but only hit the jackpot with Dracula, published in 1897. Apart from his researches into Romanian royalty, spikes, bats, prison, etc, he was also influenced by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, the Irish horror writer. One of the stories in the collection In a Glass Darkly concerns "Carmilla", a lesbian vampire.
