Dracula vs. Dracula

“I am Dracula” or “Soy Dracula”? That is the question.

The set of Tod Browning’s landmark Dracula was a busy place in 1930. As Browning, Bela Lugosi, et al, vacated the set at the end of each day, another crew was waiting in the wings to fill the void. So-called “talking” films were still in the embryonic stage, and concepts like dubbing and subtitles for a foreign market were not yet being employed. Instead, director George Melford lead a cast of all-Hispanic actors in a completely separate version of the film, utilizing the same sets at night that the English cast had used during the day. The result was the Spanish Dracula, a film that has gradually gained stature over the years to the extent that many now believe it is a better film than its vaunted English counterpart. After viewing both films back to back, I would like to add my two cents to this raging cinematic controversy.



Pacing
For decades Dracula was considered an unquestioned classic, a masterpiece of mood and atmosphere that -- along with Frankenstein (1931) – laid a framework for and established numerous conventions of the horror genre as we now know it. But as the years wore on and horror became faster-paced, more colorful, and much bloodier, critical opinion started to turn. No one can question the first sequence of the film as Renfield encounters Dracula at his crumbling Transylvanian mansion. Stunningly photographed and utilizing some astoundingly imposing sets, it is still one of the great openings of any film.

But then Browning makes his greatest mistake. He keeps filming the remainder of the script. Nothing else in the movie comes within a stratosphere of that brilliant beginning. Dracula is a downright odd film. It is the quietest movie I’ve ever seen – and that includes silent films. Silent films at least have musical tracks. Dracula uses absolutely no music within the film, only in the credit sequences. But it’s not just a lack of music. The movie itself is almost distractingly quiet. There are long sequences in which the soft hiss of the soundtrack is all you can hear, and Browning uses a paucity of sound effects to break this perplexing silence – just a wolf howl here, or a scream there. It becomes almost disorienting at times.

Now add to that silence the most mystifyingly dilatory dialogue every committed to celluloid. Bela Lugosi, a Hungarian who probably learned his lines phonetically, sets the standard with an excruciatingly measured delivery of nearly every line. Quotes like “We….vill… be…. leaving…………..tomorrow………………evening” have become legendary. The rest of the cast follows Lugosi’s lead, though no one can match his mellifluous voice, and Browning seems on board as well. For every slooooow line of dialogue, there is an equally strung-out reaction shot. Just count the number of times Browning uses a static medium shot of Dracula, Prof. Van Helsing or hospital attendant Martin simply reacting silently to a previous line.

On top of all this, the film has a bizarrely changeless feel to it. Browning uses a multitude of fades and dissolves, but there is no punctuation to any of the transitions. They are silent and seamless, giving the film a constant, unvarying sensation. It’s almost like the film is one continuous shot. The combination of these factors can be mesmerizing or maddening, depending on the viewer. It you are in the right mindset, the film’s style is so surreally absurd that it can become hypnotic. Or it can also become the most effective sleeping pill you’ve ever taken.

The Spanish Dracula eliminates many – but not all – of these issues. For starters, the dialogue is much snappier. Gone are most of the plodding, laborious dialogue exchanges and interminable reaction shots. Melford also uses far more shot set-ups than Browning, which creates the illusion of a faster pace. Scenes that Browning let play as one static, medium shot are sprinkled with a variety of shots utilizing different angles and camera positions in the Spanish version. Browning may have not realized it, but Melford showed that one can actually move the camera in for a close-up if one wishes. He also uses insertion shots where Browning didn’t. An example is when he cuts to a lovely interior shot of the Inn during Renfield’s initial coach ride.

However, the middle third of the Spanish version does suffer from a considerable slow-down. This was doubtlessly due to the restraints of the script, which was taken from a stage play adaptation and not Bram Stoker’s novel. Melford tries a little harder than Browning during this prolonged section, again using more shots and shooting from some different angles, and also moving one scene to an outside patio where rolling fog in the background at least added some visual flair to the dull proceedings.



Direction/Cinematography
Melford takes the prize for direction, displaying a more creative and flamboyant approach to the material. Aside from the far more varied shot selection discussed above, Melford also added some impressive flourishes that greatly improve the film. Here are some examples of elements not seen in Browning’s film:

· On Renfield’s coach ride to Dracula’s castle, a fire in the background shoots unnatural beams of light skyward, a spectacular image that intimates the fires of hell are just below the surface of a godforsaken land.

· Billowing smoke pours out of Dracula’s coffin whenever he emerges. We also actually see him rise from the coffin, an image never shown in Browning’s film.

· The huge doors in Dracula’s castle open and close by themselves as Dracula approaches or departs.

· The three wives of Dracula attack Renfield. In the English version they are called off by Dracula. The shot of the three wives huddled together awaiting their prey is downright chilling.

· On the ship to London, Melford shows a man screaming in terror behind a porthole as Dracula rises from the hull to attack.

· After arriving in London, Melford includes a shot in which Dracula emerges from his coffin before leaving to attack the flower girl. Browning cuts immediately to Lugosi approaching the girl.

· The lights in the opera darken as Dracula gives his morbid speech about dying, a very nice, moody effect.

· Melford films a mirror’s image of Eva and Lucia before backing up the camera to reveal their true positions. This type of minor but interesting tidbit is something Browning would seemingly never consider.

· When Dracula attacks Lucia, he descends fully to her neck while wrapping his cape around her. Although we don’t see the actual biting, the shot does hold for a few moments with Dracula in this position. In Browning’s film, Lugosi oh-so-slowly bends over Lucia and clearly stops short of her neck before the scene fades.

· Melford shows the actual vampire bites on Eva’s neck. This is in keeping with a more erotic overall approach that I will discuss shortly.

· Melford inserts some great night shots outside the sanitarium, including an overhead shot of Lucia going to Dracula; a gorgeous shot of streaming lights casting long shadows of Dracula as he maneuvers through some misty woods; an equally beautiful shot of Eva in a flowing nightgown being drawn to Dracula, and an exceedingly spooky shot of the now-vampirized Lucia roaming amid the gnarled trees and gothic gates of the sanitarium.

The ending is also superior in the Spanish version. Van Helsing and Juan discuss the fact that they have just staked Lucia before arriving at Carfax Abbey’s basement window and seeing that Dracula has kidnapped Eva. Melford cuts to an impressive high-angle shot of Dracula after he disposes of Renfield and continues down the staircase. Dracula locks Val Helsing and Juan out of one section of the abbey’s basement and approaches Eva to finally vampirize her. Suddenly sunlight streams through a latticed window, causing Dracula to shrink away at about the same time Van Helsing and Juan break down the door. Van Helsing locates Dracula in his coffin and positions a stake over his heart, raising a mallet just before the camera cuts to Juan and Eva. Off camera we can hear three distinct bangs, and Dracula groans loudly in obvious agony. After disposing of Dracula, Van Helsing tells Eva and Juan that he must keep his promise to Renfield, meaning he must also drive a stake into him to ensure he never becomes a vampire. The final shot is of Van Helsing hovering over Renfield’s body as Juan and Eva ascend the stairs. Van Helsing’s motivation for staying at the abbey is never made clear in the English version, and he is not shown anywhere near Renfield when the film ends. It’s a confusing and lackluster ending that the Spanish version avoids.

A primary argument in favor of the English Dracula is the legendary Karl Freund’s cinematography. A masterful artist who filmed some of the great German silent films (Der Golem, Metropolis), Freund’s talents cannot be denied. However, I am here to tell you that George Robinson, who photographed the Spanish version, is no scrub. An immense talent in his own right, Robinson would go on to photograph such notable films as Dracula’s Daughter, Son of Frankenstein and Tower of London. I actually prefer Robinson’s photography, which seems a little crisper than Freund’s moody, shadowy style. Even if you prefer Freund, Robinson’s superbly atmospheric work is in no way a detriment.



Eroticism
Modern fans will be impressed if not surprised with the overtly erotic elements of Melford’s film. Since Spanish audiences evidently had less genteel sensibilities than their American counterparts, Melford was able to add some spicy elements that would not have made the cut in Browning’s film. Both Lucia and Eva wear much more revealing lingerie with some inviting cleavage in many shots. In one shot near the end of the film, Eva’s nipples are clearly visible under her sheer nightgown. As stated before, Melford’s film shows more of Dracula’s attacks, and shows the bites on Eva’s neck. Also, Dracula’s wives exude far more predatory sensuality than the ghostly wives of Browning’s film. Eva herself is far more attractive and hot-blooded than the bland, fragile Nina.

Acting
OK, this is where the tables turn. No matter how many good things you can say about the Spanish Dracula, there is no changing the fact that the acting is – for the most part – absolutely atrocious. The only improvements over the English characters are Eva and Lucia. Carlos Villar’s Dracula, with his inexplicably permanent grin and bugged-out eyes, would be at home in any junior-high school melodrama. Barry Norton’s Juan, dressed in breeches and stockings, makes the foppish David Manners look like Clark Gable by comparison. Renfield (Pablo Rubio) looks like Charlie Chaplin after a delousing, and Eduardo Arozamena as Van Helsing bears a striking resemblance to George Gobel. For all his funereal delivery and pregnant pauses, Lugosi is still a extraordinarily charismatic actor, and the Spanish Dracula offers nothing to fill his iconic shoes.

All in all, the Spanish Dracula is a more dynamic, vital movie, although Browning’s version does have a bizarre, surreal aura that can be captivating. Luckily, both versions are available on Universal’s Dracula - The Legacy Collection, so we can enjoy both of these flawed but fascinating gems of classic horror whenever we wish.