Werewolf of London

After the success of Guy Endore’s 1933 novel The Werewolf of Paris Universal missed the opportunity to hire the author as a screenwriter (MGM beat them to it - he went on to work on Mark of the Vampire, Mad Love, and Devil Doll for them), so they set about putting together their own wolf-man story, 1935's Werewolf of London. Appearing several years before the more commercially viable The Wolf Man the first real lycanthrope outing for the studio brought in Cornish actor Henry Hull as botanist Wilfred Glendon in search of a rare moonlight driven plant in Tibet. The scientist is mauled in an attack that occurs during an excursion through a valley that’s populated, as locally hypothesised, by demons - actually people that turn into wolves under moonlight. Having brought the plant back to England and now recovered from the vicious attack with only scars apparently remaining, everything seems back to normal as he goes about studying the nature of his unusual find. Soon London is in the grip of terror as a series of murders and monster sightings threaten the safety of its inhabitants - Wilfred himself is afflicted with the Tibetan curse, transforming into a homicidal wolf-like man under full moon.

This is quite a different beast (excuse the pun) compared to Universal’s Larry Talbot series. It didn’t have any major stars, though reportedly there was to be a werewolf film around this time starring Karloff - something that was ultimately abandoned. Hull had the opportunity to wear make-up similar to what Chaney would later adopt in The Wolf Man, but found the process arduous and too uncomfortable to endure so a modified version was developed by make-up artist Jack Pierce. The creature as a result is quite unusual, sort of a less monstrous cousin of Oliver Reed’s titular monster in Curse of the Werewolf. One thing that’s quite unique to this film is the fact that the transformed beast actually resembles its human alias to a point where it can be recognised by those who know him, such is the similarity of facial features. Also, the werewolf here is less animal-like than is often the case: this creature doesn’t so much as shed clothing as he does actually getting dressed up to go out - leaving home after one transformation the werewolf grabs his hat and coat on the way out! At a glance the roaming monster could be mistaken for Mr Hyde and even utters some words later on during the film’s closing sequence. One nifty little idea comes when Wilfred begins realising there’s a problem: experimenting with simulated moonlight in attempts to stimulate the Tibetan plant into growth his hand gets caught under the lamp and promptly begins growing hair.

It’s difficult to say whether Hull’s monster would have been more effective with Pierce’s full blown make-up as I never thought Chaney’s equivalent looked exactly threatening, but neither is Hull the most ferocious werewolf to be put on screen. He is, however, quite an eccentric creation and very eloquent along the way. A nice plus is the presence of the beautiful Valerie Hobson as his wife. She played alongside Colin Clive as the baron’s wife in Bride of Frankenstein and a notably different character too - while in Whale’s film she was of a slightly melancholic disposition here she is bubbly and perpetually effervescent. She brings some unwanted complexity to Wilfred’s life when she begins flirting and going out with an old flame, a situation that possibly evokes some of the darker feelings that reside within Wilfred. The engendering anger beneath the surface of his personality seeps through, bringing an air of tragedy to the character as his wife finds something 'better'. The werewolf myth has always seemed like an expression of the cathartic manifestation of man’s less desirable emotions and thoughts - the literal revelation of the primordial animal that’s buried beneath evolutionary layers to the point of almost complete suppression, at least in those of us that generally abide by the law. Thus there is much going on underneath Wilfred’s uptight exterior that can be contributing towards the creation of a beast.  Werewolf of London is well written, competently acted, and features some unique ideas that elevate its value as a movie, despite the fact that it’s not especially frightening or challenging.

Son of Dracula

Yes, not only did Dracula have a daughter, but apparently a son too…  Disregarding any potential continuation of a story from Dracula’s Daughter this one introduces us to migrating Count Alucard (no!) who appears on the scene somewhere in the deep south to sweep a young woman, hot Katherine, off her feet, one who also happens to be engaged to somebody else.  She’s immediately ensnared by the count’s mystical nature, a man who seems to have ulterior economic motivations for his infiltration of the family who owns a plantation - the father of said family becomes deceased almost immediately upon the Hungarian man’s arrival.  Katherine’s fiancée Frank wonders what activities are going on between the count and the woman he loves, so he traces her to a house where the residing count reveals that they’ve just married each other.  In anger Frank attempts to shoot Alucard, but the bullets inexplicably seem to pass right through him killing Katherine instead, who was standing behind Alucard under the misconception that she would be shielded.  A distraught Frank breaks free of the house and makes a run for it but Alucard transforms into a bat to follow him with the intention of permanently resolving any issues between the two, only to be thwarted by the silhouette of the cross cast by a gravestone as the chase ends in a cemetery.  Elsewhere a couple of scientists-turned amateur sleuths begin to suspect that Alucard is a descendant of Dracula and set about destroying the undead wanderer.

1943's Son of Dracula plot kicks off in quite a feeble manner with little justification for Katherine’s initial fixation with the count and his arrival.  Generally what follows is what seems like simply an excuse to continue the series whilst taking advantage of Universal’s newfound star or terror, Lon Chaney’s son (this genre stardom arising primarily as a result of The Wolfman, but his most acclaimed role overall was Of Mice and Men prior to that).  One of the most prominent problems is that, aside from a Hungarian with an American accent, Chaney Junior doesn’t make a particularly good count, though I did like the way he handled the sequence where he’s being shot at; similarly later on his realisation that his coffin is burning is quite pronounced.  One scene where things get a little silly occurs when some woman brings in her blood-drained boy to the doctor: already aware of Alucard’s local vampiric threat, the doctor immediately treats the neck bite by painting two small crosses over the wounds and promising that the boy will make a full recovery - first time I’ve seen that one!  The score is very typical of how a composer of the period would define genre music and is likable and corny in almost equal measure.  As far as special effects are concerned, the bouncing bat has improved marginally since the 1931 Dracula and there’s also a little animation helping Chaney transform from human to bat and back again.

Black levels on the now quite old DVD transfer were good, as was detail and sharpness, however the image was sometimes plagued by flickering and contrast instability which slightly spoiled what would otherwise have been an excellent picture.  Audio is fine.  The later Blu-ray presented an improved and more stable image that is now the preferred way to view.  Whilst not complete rubbish, Son of Dracula is not an exceptional film in any sense and its creation seems to have been derived almost purely from commercial decision-making.  Having said that, the film’s downbeat conclusion is quite surprising, and there are moments of amusement to be had along the way (whether intentional or not).

Dracula's Daughter

I‘ve heard varying stories about Lugosi‘s meagre involvement with the first sequel to Dracula, which hails from 1936 and was directed by Lambert Hillyer.  One suggests that he was paid several thousand pounds to appear in publicity stills following the film’s completion, while another reports that he was actually drafted in to star until script revisions excluded his presence but contractual obligations required him to be paid anyway.  Either way, it’s not that Lugosi probably minded too much but his absence here is a shame (depending on whether you enjoyed him in the first movie or not!), and dragging someone else to ‘stand in’ for his dead body was a bit pointless (it actually looks like a dummy to me anyway).  Dracula’s Daughter takes up directly from the end of the first film, with Van (here entitled ‘Von’ in the credits) Helsing emerging from the tomb having staked the vampire, while Renfield lies dead at the foot of the stairs.  Two policemen apprehend the homicidal professor and bring him in for questioning.  After the body of Dracula is shipped back to a secure unit a mysterious Hungarian woman called Countess Zaleska appears, hypnotises the guard and minutes later the dead count’s body has vanished.  Revealing herself to be under the same curse as her father, she cremates the corpse to altruistically release his soul.  However, her own soul remains tortured as she spends the remainder of the story attempting to convince the eminent Doctor Jeffrey Garth to help her overcome her major hindrance.  Meanwhile ‘Von’ Helsing maintains his innocence (argument: you can’t kill someone who’s already technically dead) to generally sceptical ears as the same Doctor Garth steps up to defend him, having been one of the professor’s most prized students years earlier.  Then people start showing up drained of blood…

Surprisingly, this outing went way over budget though that probably wasn’t helped by the action quite suddenly shifting to Transylvania for the last eight minutes of the film (up until that point everything had taken place in England), requiring different sets, costumes, actors, etc.  A spattering of scenes throughout the film rely a little on typical comedy of the period but once the story gets going, alternating between V. Helsing’s legal predicament and Zaleska’s fight against the vampire curse, it becomes quite interesting if a little low-key.  There’s not a great deal of terror going on here though a few injections of gothic overtones remind us that we’re watching a genre film.  One touch I liked was the reiteration of one of Lugosi’s beautifully executed lines from the first film - “I never drink… wine” - this time spoken by Zaleska.  Zaleska herself is a confused character: impelled to carry out the horrific deeds of her bloodline whilst simultaneously begging for help to be released from her existential prison before finally resigning herself to eternal torment.  A fairly fascinating psychological dichotomy results.  Whilst I’m not one to jump on homosexuality bandwagons there’s a good chance she’s also bisexual due to her apparent disregard for someone’s gender when showing them interest (for example, at one point her servant brings back a woman to pose semi-nude for the countess).  The man she wants to settle for is clearly attracted to another woman so even when craving a normal life Zaleska seems tragically doomed.  It’s nice that Edward Van Sloan returns to reprise his role as V. Helsing from the first film, offering cohesive narrative continuity, though he seems a little less energetic here despite a retained eloquence.

Looking a little better on DVD than the preceding film, the image from the Monster Legacy set was quite pleasing taking its antiquity into consideration - there was a fair amount of detail for the format. Sound comes across well though there are no modern alterations to be had here. The later Blu-ray was a step up, presenting a more refined image and audio that demonstrated diminished hiss (this may or may not be seen as a good thing, depending on your perspective).  Despite not qualifying itself as a great movie I found Dracula’s Daughter ticked away an hour or so quite comfortably.

Dracula (1931)

Taking the theatrical play of the late twenties (of which Lugosi himself was also the star) as a template Universal Studios put together a script that was more faithful to the stage version than it was Stoker’s book.  Nevertheless, it was their biggest financial success of the year and really was to change the future as it almost single-handedly sparked a whole generation of films, primarily from the studio itself but also from those influenced by their output, whether directly or indirectly.  From the opening it’s clear that there are liberal differences to the original literature as Renfield (yes, Renfield) is travelling with a group of passengers with the intention of making his way to the count’s castle in Transylvania, the objective being to offer him property in London.  Parting company with the group he is taken by carriage to the rather derelict castle which is occupied by an offbeat count (who is revealed to sleep in a coffin from the opening scenes) and three mysterious women.  Dracula soon enslaves the estate agent, turning him mad and using him as a servant.  Both of them return via ship to London where Renfield is imprisoned for his insanity and Dracula continues his quest to ensnare a woman who has attracted his attention: Mina.  John Harker does make an appearance but it’s later on in London, his position in the film being much less prominent than in the book (or, indeed, other filmed versions).  On to the scene comes Van Helsing, naturally, the man who recognises that several of the people in the vicinity are in the grip of a vampire curse, the cause of which is the count himself.  From there onwards Van Helsing attempts to persuade the most relevant people of the count’s true undead nature in order to despatch him forever, although such proposals are not unanimously welcomed of course.

The feel of this movie compared to Universal’s subsequent chillers is closer to that of silent cinema, despite it being quite talky - I’m really thinking about Browning’s filming techniques, plus Dwight Frye’s very old-fashioned performance of Renfield.  His exaggerated expressions and movements remind me of something from the silent era (though, aside from a small appearance in one film, Frye’s only work was in ‘talkies’, whereas Browning was very experienced with the silents), however his distinctively insane laugh is something of a spectacle.  There are two actors that really strengthen the proceedings: Edward Van Sloan is captivating as Van Helsing, his recital of lines being emphatic, deliberate, and authoritative.  He could feasibly convince anyone that vampires exist, so serious and articulate is his delivery of words.  Then of course there is Bela Lugosi as the count.  Aside from hinting at a possible lack of versatility his portrayal is quite domineering thanks to his incredible accent and odd way of expressing vocal emphasis; it’s difficult to take your eyes (and ears) away from him.  The other actors are generally quite conventional and service the picture adequately without standing out (though really, it’s difficult to stand out next to the likes of Van Sloan and Lugosi).  The first fifteen or twenty minutes of the film features Renfield’s trip to the castle, the introduction of the count, and Renfield’s succumbing to madness, and this is the best segment of the whole film.  The creepiness is laid on quite effectively and the ruined castle is an incredible piece of gloomy, ancient architecture, its huge stones broken with massive cobwebs ubiquitous.  Actually, there is one nice little sequence involving a cobweb where Dracula appears to walk right through it (much to Renfield’s understandable shock), something achieved with no special effects whatsoever and all the more potent for it.  The three brides make a brief appearance, almost token but welcome they are nonetheless.

After the return to England things become very dialogue driven and not as gripping as the Transylvania-bound act, with the exception of certain sequences generally involving Lugosi and Van Sloan.  For the final segment the movie gets back to great production design with a beautiful underground crypt and what must be one of the stunning gothic staircases ever seen.  Speaking of crypts, I love the introduction of the count at the beginning where we see first him climb from his coffin, followed by his bride climbing from hers, then a cockroach crawling out of its own small box - nice touch.  Another humorous aspect is Renfield’s persistent ability to escape from his cell, even turning up at one point to engage in a discussion with Van Helsing in Dr Seward’s office - they can’t seem to keep the slippery man imprisoned long before he finds a way of wandering off somewhere.  The use of bats in this film is pretty hopeless with them bouncing up and down remarkably like rubber on string (indeed, on the discs you can actually see the string in at least one scene).  Unfortunately Hammer were insistent on using this same effect some forty years later - surely it didn’t convince audiences even in 1931?  So, Dracula is of course a classic; it was highly successful, formed the catalyst for a whole sub-genre and was generally influential, but it’s not wall-to-wall excitement, more so an average film with a number of high points that make it worth watching. Tod Browning himself was to go on to much more notoriety a year later with Freaks.

Universal get some mileage out of these films, with several DVD incarnations across the globe having been in existence hitherto, followed by various Blu-rays.  From the beautiful Monster Legacy collection containing carefully painted busts of the three main creatures, the DVD I have features a transfer that fluctuates between very good in some shots, to very awful in others.  The 75th anniversary disc (later released in the US) is reportedly an improvement.  A couple of instances of censored audio exist in my print unfortunately (again, corrected for the 75th anniversary): Dracula’s death moans, and some screams from Renfield. There’s a choice between two soundtracks on the DVD - the original mono track of course and a score composed a few years ago by Philip Glass, presented in surround while the dialogue and effects remain centred.  It’s something that purists probably can’t accept (the original track is almost completely music-less) but it’s a great score and very reminiscent of the period (possibly earlier) so it fits well.  It is a little overly present but there are occasions when it enhances the film just like any great score should, my favourite being the scene where Dracula almost hypnotises Van Helsing - the music here embellishes the moment exquisitely.  Despite the rough print used the package (including commentary and documentary) is a very good one.  I do intend to upgrade at some stage to the Blu-ray of course.