Wednesday, 16 January 2013

The Changing Cinematic Representations of "Dracula" from Bram Stoker's Novel


Background: A cultural history, and Bram Stoker's novel    

"A literary work is not an object that stands by itself and that offers the same view to each reader in each period. It is not a monument that monologically reveals its timeless essence. It is much more like an orchestration that strikes ever new resonances among its readers and that frees the text from the material of the words."


Hans Robert Jauss: Towards an Aesthetic Reception[1]

  The canonisation of Bram Stoker's 1897 novel Dracula has invited many critical readings, its popularity many interpretations, perspectives, reproductions and reworkings. The five filmic depictions of the novel which are the focus of this paper span some 70 years, and thus provide an ideal opportunity for comparison and analysis of the changing representations of the character of the vampire Dracula. Each cinematic portrayal of Dracula represents not only an interpretation of character, but a construction of  society and social environment through his relationship thereto. Each film is there to be read, not just as a text, but as a reading itself offering layers of narrative and understanding.

The cultural history of the vampire and the social perception of its image do of course also contribute significantly to the malleable representations of Dracula through the passage of time. The changing connotations of the growing vampire legend cannot fail to affect cinematic (or any other) interpretations of the original Dracula text, as Bram Stoker's infamous immortal character Count Dracula remains synonymous with /and firmly anchored to vampire lore. The increasingly popularity of vampires and their associated Gothic realm demonstrates the continuing fascination of Western culture with some of the key central themes of vampire tales: (im)mortality; fear of the dead; blood; sexuality; power; alienation. These ingredients are essential in the supernatural vampire myth, from its origins in centuries old superstition to its current media-devouring existence. Yet each of the five films I will be examining draws on or emphasises different aspects of the myths to invoke distinctive vampire characters.

          The origins of the creature which evolved into Bram Stoker's Dracula began as ancient stories of supernatural nightflying bloodsuckers such as the lamia, a Greek mythological monster represented as a serpent with the head and breasts of a woman and reputed to prey on human beings and suck the blood of children[2]. Whilst containing some thematic characteristics familiar to us through vampire literature and cinema (such as immortality, ambiguous sexuality, nocturnal behaviour, invasion and sanguinary assault), these early prototypes were generally demonic or evil spirits lacking in that defining feature of the vampire which is the necessity of its death in a natural world in order to achieve immortality and power. 

The literary evolution of the vampire as we know it today, although anthropomorphised most famously by Bram Stoker, began to take shape in the twelfth century. At this time the notion of the dead returning ('undead') in order to exsanguinate the living was chronicled by English historian William of Newburgh. Newburgh used the Latin term sanguisuga, meaning bloodsucker[3], in his accounts of vampires in England. The specificity of his case reports linked tenuous past sources of vampire mythology, (such as the outbreak of fatal epidemics within a village) to a growing body of vampire lore which included Newburgh's own conclusion that the only permanent protection from the 'undead' was to unearth and burn the body in the coffin from which he rose at night. Among the cases cited by Newburgh in support of this claim was the Melrose Abbey case[4] in which the village's sacriligious priest returned from the dead and walked each night through the monastery where one night a monk hit him with a battleaxe. The priest's grave, according to Newburgh, when opened contained a corpse with the axe wound swimming in blood. He was cremated by the brothers, and his ashes scattered. Similarly, in Newburgh's account of vampirism at Alnwick Castle[5], a man of wicked reputation was killed and buried only to be seen after dark wandering through the village. His return coincided with the outbreak of an epidemic of an unnamed (and in some cases fatal) disease. Again, according to Newburgh. when exhumed his grave gushed forth fresh blood. After his body was burned, the epidemic ended.

 William of Newburgh's contribution to vampire lore and literature is significant particularly in its account of exhumation and emphasis on the necessity of cremation. The opening of coffins is a repetitive theme in the novel and the five filmic depictions thereof which are the focus of this thesis. The burning of the body for a 'permanent' solution implies the need for a ritualistic killing (or re-killing) to rob the vampire of its state of immortality, and this is manifested in Bram Stoker's novel and many other accounts as a 'stake through the heart' or being exposed to daylight and so on.

 The oddly balanced relationship between science and folklore that is a feature of the novel Dracula (and a balance which a seventy year period of cinematic interpretation will demonstrate to shift reflecting changing social perceptions) is rooted in these early accounts of William of Newburgh. On one hand we have vampire lore which in its foundations (the existence of the 'undead') is necessarily contradictory the laws of physics, of science. On the other hand, the rigidity of vampire law is structured in a science-like manner of cause and effect ('to repel the vampire use the following...'), and Bram Stoker clearly uses the characters of Dr Seward and Van Helsing (medically, scientifically sanctioned) to add scientific credibility to his wildly superstitious premise.

 Bram Stoker uses the link between vampirism and disease as a way of reinforcing the 'scientific' credibility of Drs Seward and Van Helsing in their diagnosis of Count Dracula and his victims. During the early stages of Lucy's illness, she is examined by Dr Seward and he concludes that her symptoms are consistent with anaemia. Anaemia, while characterised by fatigue, pallid complexion and fainting or dizziness, is a pathological deficiency in the oxygen-carrying component of the blood, measured in unit volume concentrations of hemoglobin, red blood cell volume, or red blood cell number.[6] By Chapter 9 of Dracula Dr Seward has tested Lucy's blood and reached the realisation that Lucy is suffering from the loss of whole blood volume, and not just its oxygenation capacity. Dr Van Helsing concurs, commenting "I have made careful examination, but there is no functional cause. With you I agree that there has been much blood lost; it has been but is not. But the conditions of her are in no way anaemic."[7] Although dismissing an accepted pathological condition as an explanation for what ails Lucy, Bram Stoker has brought superstition into line with science by convincing his sceptical doctors through orthodox medical methodology. Through this alignment of lore and law, a new realm is opened.

 The association between vampirism and disease has been extensively examined outside of fiction also. In the quest to dig up the origins of the persisting vampire myth, there is ongoing debate which continually influences the public perception through media production and consumption. A fairly recent example of this has been the hypothesised link between vampirism and porphyria. A collection of rare diseases, the porphyrias are disorders of porphyrin metabolism, usually hereditary, which show the presence of large amounts of porphyrins in the blood and urine of the patient.[8] In porphyria sufferers, an enzyme defiency which inhibits the synthesis of heme (also known as hematin - the deep red, nonprotein, ferrous component of hemoglobin) is characterised by an extreme sensitivity to sunlight. It is this symptom that is the most obvious connection to the vampire and its traditional nocturnal existence. Whilst Count Dracula's aversion to sunlight is significant in Bram Stoker's novel, it is perhaps even more so in a cinematic adaptation of the novel, where darkness and horror are inextricably linked. FW Murnau's Nosferatu (1922) in particular utilises shadow and light very effectively in its representation of the vampiric creature.

 In 1985, in a paper presented to the American Association for the Advancement of Science, David Dolphin hypothesised that early reports of vampires (such as those of William of Newburgh) may be based on sufferers of porphyria. The injection of heme as a treatment for porphyria led Dolphin to suggest that centuries ago porphyrics might have attemtped to drink the blood of other human being in an attempt to alleviate their systems. Whilst there is to date no scientific evidence to suggest that doing to would have any effect on the disease, Dolphin's paper was widely discussed and received a lot of media coverage (particularly from the US tabloids). The paper offended many porphyria sufferers needless to say, and while his hypothesis was eventually discarded it sparked off several popular television shows built on the possibility of a porphyria patient exhibiting vampiric behaviour patterns.[9] Forever Knight[10] is one such program, featuring a thirteenth century vampire living in a modern metropolis and working as a homicide detective, where his "severe allergy to sunlight" and other vampiric characteristics are given medical explanations each week by the department pathologist. Vampire films too have quite frequently alluded to the possibility of vampirism being a genetic (read medical or scientifically sanctioned) condition, particularly those featuring vampire families, such as The House of Dark Shadows (1970) or Interview With The Vampire (1994). The existence of old families can often imply genetic flaws. More recently, The X-Files[11] has also featured a vampire episode, in which Agent Scully -  medical doctor, cynic and the representative voice of scientific reason - predictably suggested anaemia and porphyria as possible explanations for vampiric behaviour.

 The attempt to achieve credibility through scientific realism is perhaps favoured less by Francis Ford Coppola in his 1992 Bram Stoker's Dracula than it is by the other four film makers in question. Coppola's emphasis seems to be more on historical realism through his background on Vlad Tepes, Vlad the Impaler and so on, gained directly from trawling historical sources rather than indirectly via the vampire lore entrenched in Bram Stoker's novel. Many of the superstitions featured in the novel Dracula had the origins in the cultural belief systems of the Slavic people of Eastern Europe, where between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries inexplicable epidemics and deaths in a village often resulted in exhumation of corpses and the staking and burning of bodies. The tradition of using garlic as a protection also originated from this area, as did the usage of the term "vampire", taken from the Serbian "vampir".[12] The area itself is one that is vital part of the Dracula tradition. Eastern Europe, specifically Transylvania (part of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire in 1830, later on a part of Hungary, and since the end of World War I a part of Roumania) is synonymous with vampires and with Dracula, and in Bram Stoker's novel is significant in its evocation of mystery, magic and danger, and its connotations of journey, ethnography and ancient mythology.

 In 1732, a report of a vampire attack in Belgrade was picked up by two British periodicals (the London Journal and the Gentleman's Magazine). This sparked a fresh interest in vampire mythology. In 1765, the French naturalist Georges Louis Leclerc coined the term 'vampire bats' (referring to American bats of the family Desmodontidae which feed on the blood of mammals and birds) because of their nocturnal nature and ability to suck the victim's blood without awakening them. Legends of this sort eventually inspired the first piece of vampire fiction in English, a short story (first published in 1819) by Dr John William Polidori. Polidori, (a respected physician, an Italian immigrant and the travelling companion of the acclaimed poet and writer George Gordon, Lord Byron) published "The Vampyre" in The New Monthly Magazine, where initially Byron was incorrectly credited for the work. It was in fact at Byron's suggestion that a group of his friends write ghost stories during a holiday in Switzerland: from this proposition came Polidori's story -  the foundation of modern vampire fiction - as well as Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. It has been suggested that Polidori's vampire idea was partially inspired by Byron's poem "The Giaour". The poem, written by Byron in Greece, describes a cultural death in Athens after Turkish occupation, but reads in part:

But first, on earth as Vampire sent,

Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent;

Then ghastly haunt thy native place,

And suck the blood of all thy race;[13]

 The vampire in Polidori's short story, the aristocratic vampire Lord Ruthven, is said to be modelled on his friend Lord Byron. In The Vampyre[14] Ruthven travels the world luring, killing and exsanguinating women. Through this story are woven some of the vital central threads that make up the modern tapestry of vampire lore - themes which were picked up on in numerous other creative works of the nineteenth century, including the key novel, Bram Stoker's Dracula. The idea of travel, of journeying both literally and figuratively for example was a feature of The Vampyre, in which the central protagonist Aubrey travelled to Greece. Whilst Polidori had not been to Greece, he had travelled through continental Europe with Byron, who had toured Greece. Jonathan Harker of course, in Dracula, made the journey to Transylvania. And Count Dracula like Lord Ruthven was in the privileged position to travel the world free of political or economic restraint. The international travel of the vampire character is a feature that goes to the heart of the mystery, the immortality and the power of the creature whose origins are ancient and enigmatic. Bram Stoker's description of the vampire's roots, through Dr Van Helsing, reads:

"For, let me tell you, he is known everywhere that men have been. In old Greece, in old Rome; he is flourish in Germany all over, in France, in India, even in the Chersones; and in China… He have follow the wake of the beserker Icelander, the devil-begotten Hun, the Slav, the Saxon, the Magyar."[15]

It is an international journey through mythology, superstition and the development of science, a temporal evolution of truth, fantasy and fiction that culminates in Bram Stoker's Dracula, the birth of the quintessential vampire villain and a new era in vampire literature which soon came to include the media of film and television. Dracula embodies the predator, reveals the psychosexual, creates the archetypes, and in its thematic richness inspires an endless world of fiction. The name 'Dracula' (meaning devil and bearing the associated connotations of immortality, evil and so on) was taken from Vlad Dracula, a real life prince of the ancient kingdom of Wallachia in Transylvania. The motifs entrenched (immortality, bloodlust, travel, nocturnal existence, garlic and stakes through the heart), embellished (the ability of the vampire to turn into a bat) or invented (vampires that have no reflection and need to be invited into a building) by Bram Stoker have survived over a hundred years to be as popular as ever, and perhaps more inviting of reproduction, reworking and re-interpretation than any modern literary classic. For me, five cinematic adaptations stand out as being appropriate for comparison and analysis:

Nosferatu – A Symphony of Horror (1922) – FW Murnau

Dracula  (1931) – Tod Browning

Horror of Dracula  (1958) – Terence Fisher

          Dracula  (1979) – John Badham

          Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) – Francis Ford Coppola
 
Each of these adaptation purports to be a representation of the novel itself (aside from minor changes made in Murnau's film for legal reasons), as opposed to the hundreds of other films loosely based on characters or themes inspired by Stoker. Yet within the seventy year period, each filmmaker has composed a strikingly different version of the novel Dracula. It is my intention to analyse these differences both as interpretations of Stoker's deep and richly textured work, and also as unique creations of the individual director.



[1] Levy, M: What's Expected of Seinfeld? The Aesthetic Reception of a Situation Comedy:
http://www.uta.edu/english/mal/sein/seinfeld.html
[2]  Microsoft Bookshelf 1994 Dictionary, taken from The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, Third Edition: Houghton Mifflin Company: 1992
[3] Melton, Gordon J: The Vampire Book - the encyclopaedia of the undead: Visible Ink: Detroit, 1994
[4] Glut, Donald G: True Vampires of History: HC Publishers: New York, 1971
http://geocities.com/~holly7361/vamp5.html
[5] Ibid
[6] Microsoft Bookshelf 1994 Dictionary, taken from The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, Third Edition: Houghton Mifflin Company: 1992
[7] Stoker, Bram: Dracula: Puffin Books: London 1986: p140
[8] Microsoft Bookshelf 1994 Dictionary, taken from The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, Third Edition: Houghton Mifflin Company: 1992
[9] Danvers, Holly: Vampires: http://geocities.com/~holly7361/pvamp/html
[10] Forever Knight: Tri Star Television: Sony Pictures Entertainment: USA
[11] The X-Files: Fox: USA
[12] Melton, Gordon J: The Vampire Book - the encyclopaedia of the undead: Visible Ink: Detroit, 1994 p xiv
[13] Gelder, Ken: Reading the Vampire: Routledge: London, 1994
[14] Polidori, John: The Vampyre: in Ryan, Alan (ed): The Penguin Book of Vampire Stories: Penguin books: New York 1987
[15] Stoker, Bram: Dracula: Puffin Books: London 1986: p285

Nosferatu – A Symphony of Horror (1922) – FW Murnau



FW Murnau's 1922 silent classic Nosferatu – A Symphony of Horror holds a significant place in the history of cinema as a forerunner of the horror genre and more specifically of the vampire sub-genre which has become increasingly prolific.  As an unauthorised interpretation of Bram Stoker's novel, the film has certain superficial alterations (such as the naming of some of the characters) but in essence it bears the fundamental storyline and themes of Dracula. Despite being a primitive prototype to the countless reworkings of Dracula and vampire tales in general, Nosferatu has succeeded in producing a memorable representation of one of,  if not the  most frequently portrayed characters in horror films.


 A German production adapted for the screen by Henrik Galeen (whose pedigree in horror dates back to his 1914 collaboration with Paul Wegener on the script of Golem), the basic plot of Nosferatu resembles that of the novel. To avoid copyright difficulties, the scene is moved from London to Bremen and the names of the major characters have been altered: Jonathan Harker is called 'Hutter'; Renfield becomes 'Knock'; and Mina is 'Nina' or 'Ellen' depending on the version. Count Dracula himself is known as 'Nosferatu', although he retains his aristocratic background as 'Count Orlock'. Even these modified names bear the mark of Bram Stoker's novel – in the first chapter Jonathan Harker's journal description of his journey  in Dracula's carriage echoes the name 'Orlock' :

"I could hear a lot of words often repeated… amongst them were 'Ordog' – Satan, 'pokol' – hell, 'stregoica' – witch, 'vrolok' and 'vlkoslak' – both of  which mean the same thing, one being Slovak and the other Servian for something that is either were-wolf or vampire."[1]

The choice of  'Nosferatu' as title and title character also comes from Dracula, Dr Van Helsing using it to describe the  'undead', but the term itself is much older, originally a Greek term meaning 'plague carrier' and then later a Romanian word meaning 'undead' or 'vampire' .[2] FW Murnau's selection of this title and moniker for the lead character in his film is apt, as it encapsulates many of the themes and images emphasised by the film. The element of plague is re-inforced in the film by reference to 'The Black Death' for example, and the recurring images of rats and bacteria. Both the names 'Orlock' and 'Nosferatu' echo the Eastern European tongue.  Even the name of Murnau's leading actor holds an undertone of horror – the surname "Shreck" means terror in German.[3]

 In streamlining the storyline of Dracula, Murnau and Galeen dispensed with much of the superstitious lore that Bram Stoker had gleaned from the mythology and cultural history of the vampire. Nosferatu's treatment of the legend includes only the myth that vampires are nocturnal and cannot face daylight, and that they must sleep in coffins surrounded by the unhallowed dirt in which they were interred. No reference is made in this film to the tools and methods of fighting vampires that have become commonplace icons in the plethora of  modern vampire tales in the media of cinema and television – garlic, crucifixes, holy water and stakes through the heart etc.

  FW Murnau was a German expressionist who rose to fame in the 1920s with films such as The Last Laugh (1924) and Sunrise (1927) as well as Nosferatu. The cinematographer on Nosferatu, Fritz Arno Wagner, was also from the German expressionist school, who later worked with Fritz Lang on several films including Spies (1928) and M (1931), and this influence is clear in the manipulation of lighting and shadows for maximum effect. Nosferatu was a technically groundbreaking film, and Murnau's editing with simultaneous events sequentially intercut was one of the earliest uses of the technique in the history of cinema. Although revolutionary Russian director Sergei Eisenstein is generally credited with the introduction of montage in film direction and production in his 1925 masterpiece The Battleship Potemkin, FW Murnau clearly contributed to its development in films including Nosferatu. Two of the key sequences in the Nosferatu follow the words "Blood – your beautiful blood!" as Orlock advances upon Hutter's bleeding finger, intercut with a scene in which Nina, sleepwalking back in Bremen, calls out a warning which transcends space and causes Orlock to retreat from Hutter. The next scene follows Hutter's flight from the castle and journey by coach to Bremen, which is spliced with cuts from two other sequences, that of Orlock travelling by ship, and Nina waiting uneasily for Hutter.

 As the first cinematic adaptation of the novel, Nosferatu was also the first visual characterisation of Count Dracula / Graf Orlock, and consequently German actor Max Shreck's likeness is one of the often associated images of the cinematic history of the vampires, and indeed the horror genre villain. Not the handsome, eccentric, suave or seductive figure of later Dracula films, Max Shreck's portrayal of Orlock is ugly and focuses on the vampire as an evil creature, a product of the art direction of Murnau's collaborator Albin Grau. In keeping with the animalistic features of the film, Orlock looks inhuman, almost rat-like (another reinforcement of the analogy of the spread of plague) with rodent fangs, bulging eyes, bat ears and long claw like fingers.
 
The shape of his head too is bat-like, and the set of Orlock's castle features doorways arched to frame his bat like head. Murnau's masterful use of shade includes the projection of Orlock's shadow on the wall, arms outstreched, symbolising the bat that Bram Stoker described Dracula turning into. The symbolism of the bat in Nosferatu is twofold, serving also as another reference to the spread of plague, as it was scientifically documented by this stage that vampire bats spread numerous diseases including rabies.  Orlock's stature is stiff and unnatural, as if uncomfortable in the façade of human action. This emphasis on the bestial nature of the vampire, with undertones of primal atavism, draw on themes from vampire mythology such as the ancient nature and mysterious origins of the creature. Also there is the idea of visceral (carnal, sanguinary) appetites lying in the animal domain, from which humanity by its spiritual nature is somewhat removed, a dualistic philosophy espoused by Stoker's church and a recurrent theme in early vampire reports such as those of William of Newburgh, as discussed in the introduction.

 Themes from the earliest recorded vampire mythology which present the creature as devilish or demonic are also woven into Nosferatu through imagery such as the letter from Orlock read by Knock (and read by the film's audience over his shoulder), written in occult symbols. Murnau creates a sense of primal fear by playing on the idea of animals perceiving without intellect the presence of an evil spirit or a feeling of impending danger: in Orlock's territory in the Carpathian Mountains horses bolt and a hyena cowers, effectively building up a sense of impending doom. There are also demonic undertones in Murnau's constant grounding of the supernatural in the natural, recurring animal themes reinforcing the bestial savagery of evil (the "Beast").

 Nosferatu, perhaps more than any of the other films I will be examining, seems to unite the themes of sexuality and disease. I have already discussed the spread of plague that is alluded to by bats, rats, bacteria so forth. There are also numerous images of mass death. The ship on which Orlock travels carries a cargo of coffins, and by the time the ship reaches its port of call, the cargo includes a dead crew. In Bremen the coffins of the many dead proceed slowly down the city streets. It is the vampire of course, the nosferatu, that represents the spread itself, which links sexuality with disease and death. The un-dead occupies a space between the sexual life force and finality of death. Vampirism in the novel Dracula,  written with a background of Bram Stoker's Catholicism and the constrictions of a Victorian morality, has been read as a metaphor for the spread of venereal disease, which could be as fatal and as feared at that time as the spread of HIV/AIDS at the time of the making of Bram Stoker's Dracula by Francis Ford Coppola in 1992.
 
While the spread of disease is one of the most emphasised themes of Nosferatu, the sexual predator as its cause is also frequently alluded to. Orlock lives without a mate, this could refer to promiscuity or sexual behaviour outside the monogamous nuclear family, which according to the rigid Victorian value system of Bram Stoker (in theory at least) protects against the spread of venereal disease. The nature of the predator is demonstrated by the symbolic imagery of the predator in nature: the eerie depiction of a spider devouring its victim as Knock watches, as trapped in his prison cell as the arachnid's prey is in the web. The spider image is reminiscent of the long spidery fingers of Orlock. In the image of  the venus flytrap the violence of a natural predator is alluded to, but this time the vampire is scientifically sanctioned as again we see an attempt to construct credibility in the vampire myth as the lecturing scientist declares: "the vampire of the vegetable kingdom".

 In 1979, the same year of release as John Badhams' Dracula  (one of the other films which will form the focus of this paper), German director Werner Herzog made Nosferatu The Vampyre (also released under its German title of Nosferatu – Phantom der Nacht), an attempt at a faithful remake of Murnau's classic (the latter was thought by many especially in Germany to be the definitive cinematic version of the popular tale). Herzog conscientiously reproduced much of the animal symbolism and imagery, and embellished upon the presence of vermin and infected animals, with a rather less subtle allusion to the spread of sexually transmitted disease in the scenes of sheep and goats copulating in the town square. But while the themes of Nosferatu are reinforced by Murnau's German successor, the remake does not and cannot reproduce the eerie silence that accompanies the hushed scenes of the plague stricken landscape, with its deserted town square, chalk-crossed plague houses and sailors graves by an endless ocean. These haunting images are given a special dreamlike quality that seems to have been rendered ineffective in the remake. In a review written by Roger Ebert, he asks why the horror of Nosferatu lies in the silence:

                        "…(the silence) means that the characters are confronted with alarming images and denied the freedom to talk them away. There is no repartee in nightmares. Human speech dissipates the shadows and makes a room seem normal. Those things that live only at night do not need to talk, for their victims are asleep, waiting."[4] 

  The changing cinematic representation of the character Dracula from the novel has developed, in later films, to a seducer or a lady killer. This is in keeping with the metaphor of sexual predator who kills his prey by the spread of deadly disease, but is somewhat different to FW Murnau's interpretation of Orlock as the stalker, who like a rapist traps his prey and like a savage animal predator kills it. The equally deadly Bela Lugosi of Tod Browning's 1931 Dracula  or  Frank Langella in John Badham's 1979 Dracula can be construed as sex symbols with the fatal charm of the pick-up artist type, while Max Shreck's portrayal of the same character  relies not on dangerous seduction but deadly compulsion.

At a point in Nosferatu when Bremen is in the grip of fear, haunted by the stark images of death, the screen is lit up with a title bearing the profound message "the town was looking for a scapegoat".  This could be convincng read in a number of ways, one of which goes back to the idea of the link between sexuality and death. In the strictly repressive Victorian society where venereal diseases such as syphilis could ultimately mean death, a scapegoat was commonly sought: it might have prostitutes or promiscuity, in Nosferatu it was the madman Knock (dementia also being one of the symptoms of tertiary syphilis) who is eventually stoned. Previously in this section I have noted the similarity between Murnau's representation of the Victorian notion of unlicensed sex being dangerous to society and Francis Ford Coppola's use of the blood/sex/death media overkill relating to the HIV/AIDS issue in his 1992 Bram Stoker's Dracula. The scapegoat idea once again comes into play, as the latter film's codified homosexuality relates to the way in which the gay community was an early scapegoat in the AIDS crisis.

  Another way in which the 'scapegoat' analogy can be read relates specifically to the way in which horror films reveal contemporary social fears. The selection of a scapegoat by the 'townsfolk', the common people or proletariat in particular is indicative of assigning blame to a person or group in response to a threat or fear for which they have no explanation. For one such example we might look at the attack on Frankenstein's monster by the angry townspeople in James Whale's 1931 film Frankenstein. The  persecution of this scapegoat revealed the community's fear of a man with no soul, of the godless world that progressive science and technology might create. As discussed in my introductory section on the cultural history of the vampire, this figure has been a scapegoat for diseases and deaths as documented by William of Newburgh, and mythologised by numerous other cultures. Through the depiction of the realisation of subconscious threats, films in the German Expressionist horror-fantasy genre in particular have been traditionally read by film critics as allegories of contemporary history which speak of the national character.[5] In Germany in the 1920s, the  political climate sought a scapegoat on whom to focus the threat of foreign invasion and the tainting of pure German blood. In this context it is possible to read Nosferatu as having an anti-Semitic element, in which the vampire and his servant Knock represent the caricature of the Jew. The ancient, borderless origins of the vampire apply also to the global nature of Judaism, and partly as a result of this, Jews have suffered as scapegoats throughout history.

            The reading of Orlock and Knock as a foreign (Jewish) threat is constructed in the following way: firstly by the nature of the invasion, which prior to Orlock's physical arrival in Bremen sees his purchase of a house through Knock, the real estate agent. The set of Bremen is built to look like a typical German town, and the purchase of property by a foreigner is a common source of xenophobia. That this foreigner might be of  Jewish extraction is hinted at through characteristics that are associated with an anti-Semitic stereotype – the bald, hunched figure of Knock, whom the titles describe as the  "subject of many an evil humour", like his master understands the hieroglyphic text incomprehensible to 'us'.   Orlock's appearance can especially be construed as an anti-Semitic depiction of the Jew in light of the emphasis on trade and bargaining, and the darker side it brings to Bremen, corruption spreading like the plague. In Reading the Vampire Ken Gelder further elaborates upon the idea of Nosferatu's representation of the prevailing political attitudes in pre-World War Two Germany:

"Nosferatu repeats the point that the vampire preys upon the young: they are shown, finally, to be strong enough (committed enough to the emergent nation?) to repel this particular foreign threat – although sacrifices have to be made. In the meantime, 'folk' are also mobilised… to evict those who would negotiate with foreigners, sell them German property, speak their peculiar language."[6]  

  Nosferatu, although only 63 minutes long, is a text rich with layers of meaning, and as the first cinematic representation of Dracula is a version unburdened by the cliches of the Dracula genre which more recent films must incorporate or overcome. Nosferatu itself has become part of the language of the genre, and it must be with an understanding of this film that we proceed to the next.



[1] Stoker, Bram: Dracula: Puffin Books: London, 1986 p 14
[2] Greenwood, Marie (ed): Eyewitness Classics, Dracula – Bram Stoker: DK Publishing Ltd: New York, 1997
[3] Gelder, Ken: Reading the Vampire: Routledge: London, 1994: p95
[4] Ebert, Roger: Nosferatu: Chicago Sun-Times Inc:
http://www.suntimes.com/ebert/old_movies/nosferatu.html
[5] Gelder, Ken: Reading the Vampire: Routledge: London, 1994: p96
[6] Ibid p 97

Tod Browning's "Dracula" (1931)



Bram Stoker's novel Dracula
was adapted for stage by Hamilton Deane and John L Balderston, and made its appearance on Broadway in 1927 with Bela Lugosi in the title role. The play, although not a critical success, remained on Broadway for a year and toured for a further two.

Director Tod Browning, who worked with Bela Lugosi on his 1929 film The Thirteenth Chair (also adapted from stage to screen), based his script for Dracula on the play rather than the novel, and brought Lugosi (as well as Edward Van Sloan in the Van Helsing role) from stage to screen. The script was written by screenwriter Garret Fort, who borrowed liberally from Deane and Balderston, and Dracula's origins as an adapted stage play is evident from its lack of cinematic special effects where they might have fitted in well.
F.W. Murnau in making Nosferatuclearly recognised the parallels between vampire mythology and the nature of the cinematic form, drawing out associations such as the vacillation between the real and the illusory, and using lighting effectively to emphasise the comparison of the darkened theatre to night, a tool that has traditionally been utilised in horror films to accentuate the similarities between the spectral and spectatorial technologies.
Indeed, since the earliest days of Georges Melies and his 'cinema fantastique', trick photography and cinematic illusion have been employed to make the incredible seem credible and the unreal seem real. And yet Tod Browning failed to exploit these possibilites, filming in a manner that mostly represented only what had been on stage, declining the use of montage editing, creative camera set ups or suggestive lighting effects. The off-screen death of Count Dracula himself for example seems anti-climactic, where Lugosi's definitive role as the title character might have warranted a more indulgent denouement.

In many ways, the direction and editing of Dracula are typical of films of the 1930s – although criticized for its "static staginess"[1] it exhibited techniques commonly adopted in that era such as the use of intrusive close-ups and medium shots for enhanced dramatic effect. Despite these criticisms, Dracula was an unprecedented success, and placed Universal studios as the foremost producer of horror films in Hollywood. Dracula, along with James Whale's Frankenstein (1931) was instrumental in starting a cycle of Universal horror films that included numerous variations on the monster theme, with classics such as The Invisible Man(1933, who Returned in 1940 and Appeared in 1948), Bride of Frankentein (1935), Dracula's Daughter (1936), Son of Frankenstein(1939), The Wolf Man (1941), The Ghost of Frankenstein (1942) Frankenstein Meets The Wolf Man (1943), Son of Dracula (1943), House of Frankenstein (1944), House of Dracula (1945) and finally Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), a comedy in which the reunion of all Universal's monsters marked the end of an era - the cycle had fallen from refinement into degeneration and unconscious parody gave way to self conscious spoof.

Despite the fact that Tod Browning's Dracula received much criticism for the manner in which it was modelled on the play, it is also worth noting that Browning and Fort resurrected some of the scenes from the Bram Stoker novel that had been omitted by Deane and Balderston. Renfield's journey to Transylvania (one of the most noteworthy sequences in Dracula in my opinion) and Dracula's sea voyage to London utilise the ability of the cinematic form to 'travel', in addition to which scenes in London, Carfax Abbey, the sanitarium and Van Helsing's study are included.
While Browning did not use montage editing to create metaphoric juxtapositions in the way that Murnau attempted to do so (or in the way that numerous other directors and editors had developed this technique since Sergei Eisenstein revolutionary 1925Battleship Potemkin), he did use dissolves to indicate a change in time or location. These would denote the creation of a new set or mis-en-scene that frequently transmits a great deal of information about a character or characters, in a manner that was not possible with the more simple sets designed for use in the Deane and Balderston stage version.
The contrast, for example, between scenes in London and Transylvania emphasise the alienation factor of the vampire and serve to set the Transylvanian Count Dracula apart from the English society that that he infiltrates. Furthermore, the contrast between the refined Renfield and the superstitious locals in Transylvania highlights the primitive nature of this wild rural country where the course of industrialisation, Imperialism and education have not progressed, and harks back to themes from vampire mythology that link the creature to an ancient and atavistic nature.

The interiors designed by set decorator Russell A. Gausman and art director Charles D. Hall reveal still more about the characters and the subtexts within vampire lore. Dracula's castle for example is a great dominant building, like the imperious vampire himself, looming ominously over Transylvania as the Count looms over the camera. The crypt in Castle Dracula is as sepulchral, cavernous and mist filled as Dracula is eerie, deep and mysterious. The appearance of the three female vampires dressed flowing white is suggestive of a harem, and evokes one of the underlying themes of sexual perversity.
Their number indicates the vampire's insatiable sexual appetite and power of seduction which is very much a part of the construction of the fear that vampire tales tap into. The London street scenes in which Dracula murders a lower class young woman are foggy, cold and evocative of a Jack the Ripper type serial murderer. Drac, like Jack, is ominous, anonymous – and leads the secret double life of an upper class gentleman (aristocrat in the case of Count Dracula and quite possibly also in the case of Jack the Ripper) who preys on the unsuspecting, and to whom society is so vulnerable, simply because we do not know who or what he is.

Establishment of characterisation for the supporting cast is also achieved through the use of costuming and set. Van Helsing for example, whose authority is crucial to the resolution of the story (ultimately both Harker and Dr Seward turn to him for guidance) declares at one point "I must be master here or I can do nothing". This line was recycled from the Deane and Balderston play, rather than from Bram Stoker's novel, and Browning has endorsed and affirmed this quality in Van Helsing by establishing him as an authoritative man of science through mis-en-scene.
As discussed in my opening background section, the use of scientific authority to sanction or give credibility to vampire lore has been emphasised in various constructions of the vampiric myth and here the supposed infallibility of science has also been used to give credibility and authority to Van Helsing, empowering him and setting him up in opposition to the supernatural power of Dracula. The close link that was perceived at that time between science and the patriarchy is also significant in stamping Van Helsing's charge on matters.
Whether dressed in a white labcoat and demonstrating his skill to a gallery of other doctors while he examines Lucy's body, or further authenticating his expertise to us (the film's audience) by practising his science viewing Renfield's blood under a microscope, Van Helsing fits the picture of a man who, as he later discloses "has devoted a lifetime to the study of many strange things, little known facts which the world is perhaps better off for not knowing". The importance of this 'man of science' figure is further illustrated by his consistent appearance, in similar forms, in horror films of the Universal cycle. The other landmark horror film of 1931, James Whale's Frankenstein, also features Edward Van Sloan. This time he portrays Dr Waldman, a character who represents conservative and institutionalised science.

Like Nosferatu before it, this Draculafocuses on a memorable incarnation of the infamous vampire. Bela Lugosi, for all the evil he portrayed, reflected a change in the public attitude towards supernatural predators. With his mellifluous voice and its Hungarian accent (invoking the Eastern Eurpopean mystique which is so central to the novel and the legend in all its forms) Lugosi was as popular as any of his contemporary romantic matinee idols, receiving, he told the press in 1935, ninety seven percent of his fan mail from women[2]. The film was in fact first released on Valentines Day in 1931, with the slogan "The Strangest Love Story of All", an acknowledgement of the changing status of the horror villain. As one of the first screen idols of the talkies, Lugosi's voice was all the more notable, and his forbidding introduction "I – am –Dracula…" remains etched in the memory.

Tod Browning's interpretation of the story once again has variation: one notable distinction is the role of the traveller, who in this version is Renfield and not Jonathan Harker. Renfield, played by Dwight Frye, is the one that journeys to Transylvania, in what is probably the most compelling part of the film, with its gothic flavoured Carpathian Mountain castle set and snippets of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake.
The dapper Renfield is not tied to marriage or to the institutional occupations of the Harker / Hutter character of the novel or first filmic version. A free man, unlike the enslaved Knock of Nosferatu, Renfield appears to represent the Hollywood idea of a decadent English gentleman. With his white hat and cane and his effeminate movements, Renfield also draws on much older themes from the cultural history of the vampire, that of the link between the travelling dandy and the vampire, which relates back to the tales of Lord Byron and John Polidori.
The dinner scene at Dracula's castle communicates an identification between the aristocratic Count and flamboyant Renfield, both ornately overdressed and eyeing each other in the baroque setting as Renfield drinks his wine. As Renfield sucks the blood from his finger, Dracula stares lasciviously, dismissing the female vampires and leaning in towards Renfield's throat. In the tightly censored Hollywood of 1931 these were the hints of perversity that allowed Browning's film to draw on greater themes of the homoeroticism of vampire literature and film, and perhaps also added credibility to once again making a scapegoat of Renfield, as he is thrown shrieking into Dr Seward's asylum.

Lugosi's Count Dracula, in his adorned clothing represents alienation in a vastly different way to that of his counterpart in Nosferatu. Where as Max Shreck's depiction of the nosferatu set vampires aside from humanity through animalistic features, Hollywood's version of the Count focuses on his artistocratic background and breeding. In Draculathe sense of ancient and supernatural mystique is aroused through an inference of the secrets of an age-old family rather than through a connection with nature.
Bela Lugosi as Count Dracula speaks of course with a thick accent, an alienating device unavailable to Max Shreck in the silent Nosferatu. Also notably setting Lugosi aside from the other characters is the elaborate manner in which he dresses, wearing his cloak and medals indoors (and even his his coffin!). These embellishments of garb may well result from the projections of Depression-struck America, whose idea of a foreign titled gentleman was gaudily fulfilled by Hollywood to evoke that fear of the unknown, the mysterious, the suspicious and the ominous. However, this costuming serves to separate and distinguish Lugosi as Dracula in a way that strays from the intentions of Bram Stoker in his characterisation of Count Dracula in the novel.
The Dracula of the novel, while speaking "with a strange intonation"[3], is nonetheless still very concerned with blending into the crowd, and painstakingly collects English paraphernalia to try and familiarise himself with the culture, the better to fit in. Bram Stoker writes of Jonathan Harker's exploration in Dracula's library, where he finds "…a vast number of English books… volumes of newspapers and magazines… books of the most varied kind all relating to England and English life and customs and manners."[4]. In explanation, the Count tells Harker "I am content if I am like the rest, so that no man stops if he sees me, or pause in his speaking if he hear my words, to say ha ha a stranger!"[5] It is partly his ability to blend so smoothly into English society that makes the vampire such a fearful creature – his easy and effective disguise of the horror that lies within creates the tension of atmosphere on which the suspense is built.

Lugosi however, relishes his distinction. He epitomises in many ways elitism, the inaccessibilty of breeding, and not just through baroque clothing. While Max Shreck's attire was not unlike that of any other character in Nosferatu, he was clearly demonstrated through his bestial features to be not quite human. Lugosi is fangless, the only memorable animal association (aside perhaps from that of the cardboard bats, which invoke more a dodgy stage production than creature transfomation) is that of Swan Lake, an aesthetic affinity with the elegant and cultured Count, who is quite at home at the Opera.

It is this recreation of Dracula as an aesthete and a socialite, with his grand entrances into the drawing rooms of his victims and aristocratic posturing, that made Bela Lugosi a stylishly dressed sex symbol and consequently began the transformation of Dracula from stalker and rapist to seducer and lady killer, an important step in the changing representation of his character over time, and indeed of the horror villain in general.







[1] Huss, Roy cited in Waller, Gregory A: The Living and the Undead: University of Illinois Press: Chicago, 1986: p85

[2] Clarens, Carlos: An Illustrated History of Horror and Science Fiction Films – the classic era 1895– 1967: Da Capo Press: New York, 1997: p 62

[3] Stoker, Bram: Dracula: Puffin Books: London, 1986: p26
[4] Ibid p30

5] Ibid p31