If Curse of Frankenstein was the film that put
Hammer Films on the map, then Dracula (US title: Horror of Dracula) was
the film that made them a sensation - it confirmed that Curse was no
fluke, and it helped to make Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee into the
British film industry’s first full fledged horror stars since the
barnstorming days of Tod Slaughter. It was a new found reputation both
men accepted with mixed blessings; for Cushing, the sudden financial
prosperity at least enabled him to properly look after his ailing wife,
while for Lee he hoped to use it as a stepping stone to bigger and
better things. Hammer had wasted no time in rushing a sequel to Curse
into production, but when it came to their biggest cash cow, the
transition wasn’t so smooth. The end result would prove to have been
worth the wait, however.
The Brides of Dracula remains one of Hammer’s most
celebrated yet oft debated titles. There’s no denying that the
screenplay is a problematic patchwork of ideas, and this can be
explained quite logically by the fact that it underwent so many rewrites
and reincarnations before going before the cameras. One of the big
points of contention is its status as a proper Dracula film, given that
neither the count nor Christopher Lee are anywhere to be glimpsed.
Quite why this is, nobody can say for sure. Christopher Lee has
insisted that he was never asked to appear. Others, including the
film’s first screenwriter, Jimmy Sangster, maintain that he was never
intended to be a part of the picture. Afterall, at that time, Peter
Cushing was the company’s established star property - he had come to
Hammer after years of distinguished work on stage, screen and TV, and in
the UK at least, he was a household name. Dracula had helped to make
Lee
visible, but he was still a little ways from becoming a true box office
commodity. It is also no secret that relations between Hammer and Lee
were a bit frayed at times, and if he had allowed the success of Dracula
to go to his head, it’s conceivable that he was making demands that
were simply unrealistic at that stage in the game. On the other hand,
the actor did continue to appear in numerous films for them - invariably
in a supporting capacity, excepting his turn as The Mummy (1959) - so
the issue remains a little muddy at best. Speculation to one side, The
Brides of Dracula was marketed as a Dracula film - but in fact, it
focuses on the exploits of one of his disciples, Baron Meinster (David
Peel).
A recap for those who haven’t seen it yet (and if
not, what’s your excuse?): a young school teacher, Marianne (Yvonne
Monlaur) is summoned to teach French at a girl’s school in Transylvania.
Near the end of her journey, she is abandoned at a local inn by her
frightened coach driver (the marvelous Michael Ripper). The mysterious
Baroness Meinster (Martita Hunt) happens upon the scene and offers to
put the young girl up for the night at her ancestral castle. While
there, Marianna makes the acquaintance of the dashing and seemingly
victimized Baron Meinster, who talks the naïve young woman into setting
him free from the chains which bind him to his room. Once freed, the
Baron shows his true colors as a vampire, and he sets his sights - and
fangs - upon his mother. Marianne flees in horror, only to be rescued
by Dr. Van Helsing (Peter Cushing), who has come to the area to
investigate the Baron and his nefarious activities. The
intrepid vampire hunter then sets out to destroy the vampire, though
inevitably more victims are claimed before he is able to do so…
So much has been written for and against this
film, and much of it comes down to how forgiving one is of its many
faults. As noted above, Sangster’s original script was heavily
reworked, first by Peter Bryan and then by play write Edward Percy, who
was apparently engaged at Cushing’s behest to do a final polish. There
are elements of the story that simply don’t make any sense: the
mysterious man in black (played by the cadaverous Michael Mulcaster, who
previously appeared with Cushing in both Curse and Revenge of
Frankenstein, 1958) who is glimpsed at the beginning, for example,
simply disappears early on without any clarification; Marianne is
stranded at the inn without her luggage, yet the luggage is waiting for
her at Castle Meinster - it’s no a great stretch to imagine that the
mysterious man in black bribed to coachman to deliver her possessions to
the castle, but why is it that Marianne doesn’t even bat an eye at
this?; the
Baron is able to transform into a bat, yet he is kept prisoner by a
chain - why not simply change form and escape?; and so forth.
Impassioned fans have argued in favor of a dreamlike tone where logic
plays no significant function, but this never really was the way of
Hammer horror. Compared to the Italian horror films of the same period,
many of which truly did eschew logic in favor of a kind of fever dream
state, Hammer’s writers and directors were more concerned with keeping
their fantasy rooted in as much logic and realism as possible.
It could
be that some of these deficits were originally explained, but in the
film as it stands, they seem vague and sloppy. Even if one can accept
that the chain possesses some magical property, for example, it’s not
consistent with Hammer’s M.O. to simply leave such a crucial plot point
unexplained. What’s most likely is that, in the rush to get the script
finished and filmed, some connecting pieces of
material were pushed aside - and then forgotten. For some viewers,
these inconsistencies prove ruinous; I would say that allowing these
gaffes to ruin the film is a bit much, however.
Another, more damaging issue comes out of the
script’s decision to reinstate a piece of vampire folklore which
Sangster had wisely removed from the script of Dracula. Whereas Van
Helsing stressed in the first film that the notion that Dracula can
shape shift is a “common fallacy,” here Meinster is able to turn into a
bad - and a particularly sad looking bat it is, too. Special effects of
this variety were never really in the Hammer budget, and this is
precisely why Sangster had removed it from the first film; in allowing
it to be present in this film, however, he allows for some very
laughable moments, indeed. Another rather irksome deficit is to be
found in the makeup for the vampire brides played by Andree Meeley and
the truly spectacular Marie Devereux. Quite apart from Fisher’s
decision to have them constantly baring their fangs, they are rendered
even more ludicrous by pasty pancake makeup which is confined solely to
their
faces - it stops at the face, and their necks, emphasized by a plunging
neckline in the costume (which was surely there more for Devereux’s
benefit), carry on in a perfectly normal skin tone. One could argue
that this is a bit of nitpicking, and perhaps it is, but it does serve
to draw attention to itself and undercuts some of the menace in their
appearance.
Having spent so long talking about what’s wrong
with it, let’s turn our attention to what’s good about it - and believe
me, there’s plenty of it. For one thing, the film joins The Mummy as
the best looking film Hammer ever produced. Jack Asher’s lighting is
simply superb, topping his already lustrous work on Dracula. The use of
exaggerated color gels gives the film an appropriately unearthly feel.
Bernard Robinson’s sets are truly impressive, offering further evidence
of his ability to create a “big” feel with very little money. Malcolm
Williamson’s organ-drenched score may be a little more old fashioned
than James Bernard’s thumping, percussive music, but it suit’s the tone
and texture to a proverbial T. Terence Fisher, too, is at the top of
his game. While the script sometimes gets away from him, he does a
tremendous job building mood, atmosphere and suspense. There are some
wonderfully effective compositions
throughout, and if he fails to top the impact of the finale of his
first Dracula film (which frankly seems impossible), he still delivers a
rousing end for Baron Meinster.
As to the cast, it, too, is one of the strongest
Hammer ever assembled. While Yvonne Furneaux is rather wooden as
Marianne - a factor not much helped by her uncertainty in English;
Hammer would really let her down in casting her as a Chinese in The
Terror of the Tongs later that same year! - she is supported by a
tremendous gallery of character actors. Peter Cushing is every bit as
effective here as he was in Dracula. He dominates the proceedings with
quiet grace and authority. He and Fisher viewed Van Helsing as
something of a fanatic, but they were careful not to take this concept
to extremes, as Francis Ford Coppola and Anthony Hopkins would later do
in the uneven Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992). Van Helsing remains a
steely force for good, and his ability to rise to the challenge is most
vividly evident in the scene where he, having been overpowered and
bitten by Meinster, uses a red hot poker to cauterize the wound.
Cushing plays
such physical scenes absolutely brilliantly, helping to sell the effect
in a powerful manner. Cushing also displays some sly humor in his
scenes with the doddering village doctor played by the wonderful Miles
Malleson (who previously played a blackly funny morgue attendant in
Dracula). Superb as he is, Cushing is nearly outdone by the double act
of Martita Hunt, as Baroness Meinster, and Freda Jackson, as the
Baroness’ cackling housekeeper. Both actresses bring a positively
Shakespearian dimension to their scenes, and if they had the slightest
contempt for appearing in a “Hammer horror” after having done so many
distinguished projects on stage and screen (Hunt, for example, is
immortalized as Miss Havisham in David Lean’s definitive version of
Great Expectations), it certainly doesn’t show.
David Peel was a
surprising choice to sub for Christopher Lee, as it were. Though he was
40 at the time of filming, he had a youthful visage, and
Hammer’s makeup ace, Roy Ashton, elected to emphasize this with a
swishy blonde wig. Peel comes off as a rather pretty and fey vampire,
and this adds some interesting subtext to the film. His appearance to
one side, Peel is forceful and commanding, whether it be verbally
belittling Marianne’s pompous employer (Henry Oscar) or engaging in hand
to hand combat with Van Helsing. Peel’s film career never caught fire,
however, and after making a “blink and you’ll miss it” appearance as an
airline pilot in the Franco-British horror item The Hands of Orlac
(1960 - which featured Christopher Lee in one of his most striking
villainous turns), he basically retired from the screen to pursue a
career in the antiques trade. Even if he had never made another film,
Brides would be sufficient to immortalize Peel among the Hammer fan base
- he may lack the sheer force and charisma of Lee, but bear in mind
that was a tough act to follow… and his sexually
ambiguous presence surely informed Roman Polanski’s creation of the
character of Herbert (played by the equally “pretty” Iain Quarrier) in
his loving lampoon of/tribute to Hammer horror, The Fearless Vampire
Killers (1967). The supporting cast includes some nice roles for the
aforementioned Ripper, Malleson and Oscar, as well.
Ultimately, Brides of Dracula manages to overcome
its imperfections and is one of the rare sequels - if one chooses to
view it as such - that manages to equal, and possibly even surpass, its
original. Hammer would continue to mine the vampire myth, creating some
wonderful - and not so wonderful - variations on the theme, but Brides
of Dracula is arguably their most successful “stab” at the subgenre; as
an exercise in pure cinematic style, it’s hard to beat.
