Over the weekend we watched a bunch of Dracula versions, spin-offs, and sequels. Some we had seen before, some we hadn't. The best surprise was Dracula's Daughter (1936), which I had never seen before, but it's really good. The script is strong (often stronger than the 1931 original -- shh, don't tell anyone) and the story is fascinating. Among other things, it introduces the concept of the reluctant vampire.

(Anne Rice named it as an influence for Interview with the Vampire. By the way, I suppose I should be shocked that Anne Rice has rediscovered her childhood Catholicism and is now writing a book starring young Jesus, but I really wasn't shocked. Because, in spite of this article that calls her "queen of the occult" I would have called her "best-selling gothic fantasist." And, let's face it, the New Testament is the primary originator of all gothic fiction. Of course she liked The Passion of the Christ. It's about a lovely golden-eyed Jesus getting flayed almost to death.

You see where I'm going with this.)

Also, I swear Billy Wilder based the brilliant black comedy Sunset Boulevard (1950) on it. The relationship between an isolated, melodramatic woman out of touch with the modern world and her faithful, disappointed, enabling assistant? Who she tries to throw over for a younger, prettier man?

There's also a definite Carmilla-esque vibe to the scenes where Gloria Holden's Countess struggles with the temptations offered by the bare shoulders of pretty young girls.

I suspect the implicit bisexuality of this film is a bit of an accident -- a byproduct of the old-school idea that only women can really be menaced by a vampire, therefore, if you have a female vampire she, too, has to menace females. But it works anyway.

It was interesting to watch the way certain vampire movie tropes change over time. For example, the earliest death-by-sunlight is probably the one in Nosferatu (in the original Dracula, sunlight is not fatal to vampires) -- this notion caught on quickly, and over time vampires became more and more combustible, until, by the time of Fright Night, they appear to be made out of rocket fuel.

Crosses seem strangely hard to come by in vampire movies. I suspect that is because, if they were made to seem as easy to come by as they are in real life, the vampire wouldn't seem a very big threat. Many modern vampire tales abandon sensitivity to holy objects altogether, although I like the Fright Night take on it -- that it is a strength of purpose in the wielder that actually makes the cross work, at least on mature vampires.

In film versions of Dracula, Dracula is the star of the picture. In the book, he is offstage for most of the story. I don't mind Dracula being the star, but it changes the story quite a bit to structure it that way. Stephen Dietz wrote a marvellous stage version where he recaptures this aspect of the story.

From 1931 to 1992 (Coppola's version) there are about a million flying bat effects. They look cheesy and stupid in 1931, and they never get any better. I don't know why this is. You'd think that at some point somebody would figure out a way to simulate a convincing bat, or film a real bat, or notice that the effects are terrible and decide to use bat SHADOWS instead, or something...but no. It's almost like, in some perverse way, people are looking forward to the terrible bat effects. The 1979 Langella Dracula has some real bats, too. Enormous, adorable, flying foxes which have somehow taken up residence in tunnels under graveyards in England. The poor things. They're tropical, so of course, they are probably going to freeze to death.

Bats, rats, and wolves are not creepy. I don't think I'm alone in this -- the instant there's something furry on screen, I think "awww....cute!" But this doesn't bother me the way bad bat effects do. I mean, if I'm thinking "cute!" and I'm supposed to be afraid, this doesn't ruin the moment. But thinking, "wires! rubber! stupid!" does ruin the moment.

I notice that modern vampire movies have to make things ugly for you to be afraid of them. I don't really like this trend, although it does serve a purpose -- it allows the heroes to avoid killing something that looks human, and it allows for a scary reveal when somebody turns out to be a vampire (much-used on Buffy). But -- I'll pull out Fright Night again -- there is a scene where the heroes are running away from the scary handsome vampire played by Chris Sarandon, and it's incredibly creepy the way they run and run, and he just saunters with a measured arrogance, and yet somehow he's always right behind them. And his little snarky smile is very creepy. But his monster face? Not creepy at all. Repeat after me...

Latex is never scary.

This is the biggest flaw in the Coppola version. They decided to make Dracula too sympathetic, so then they had to make him scary again, and they tried to do it with overwrought latex monsters. Which doesn't work at all. (Also, the reincarnation plot is a complete uncredited ripoff of House of Dark Shadows, which is annoying and stupid. Look, you're filming DRACULA, it's a long book, lots of stuff happens -- you don't have to just make stuff up, okay?)

The Coppola version and the Langella version both give Mina (although the Langella version switches the names so it's Lucy) a bona-fide, apparently freely chosen, romance with Dracula. Which is interesting. But then they sort of pull back from the full implications of that, and make it seem like she's really under a spell after all -- mixed signals that make the story murky.

The Langella version has a great scene where Van Helsing (here, Mina's father, where Mina has Lucy's role from the book) discovers Mina is a baby-eating vampire and stakes her. The scene works except that Mina looks really awful, with white skin falling off and everything, and there's no indication of why she looks so bad. Then, later, for no adequately explored reason, they unearth her again in order to cut out her heart, and she looks perfect.

The 1931 Dracula at least, doesn't have any major lapses in logic. There are some pretty good scenes, gorgeous design choices, and of course, Lugosi -- who is a great Dracula, and actually seems like the character from the book. Sort of compelling and repellent at the same time. Not too old or unattractive, nor too young and pretty -- I mean, I would totally cast him as Dracula. But I do have some problems with the dialogue. Dracula keeps saying things that, while poetic, make not one bit of sense for the character to be saying. (Unless he wants everybody to think he's a vampire right off, and this whole affair is some sort of elaborate suicide.) Also, I don't like the way Van Helsing is played. Very low-energy. The scenes between Lugosi and the guy playing Van Helsing are frustrating, they seem to be happening in slow motion. Lugosi is doing his best to be menacing, and .. is just ...reciting his lines. Oh, well. Renfield and Mina are good.

One thing that stays true, from 1931 onward, is that the vampire is always the best dressed character.

Note: reposted from the old Parlour.