Dracula is dead
(see Horror of Dracula, 1958) but his progeny endure, spreading
vampirism across the land. These are the “brides” of Dracula.
Marianne, a
trusting young schoolmistress on her way to her appointment at a
school for girls, is manipulated into spending a night at the castle
of the Baroness Meinster. There she meets the Baroness' afflicted
son, imprisoned by his mother and the family servant Greta. The Baron
is a vampire and Marianne is to be his dinner, but Marianne is
unaware of this. She decides to set him free. Thus the stage is set
for the return of Peter Cushing as Van Helsing on his endless mission
to exterminate the plague of vampires.
I don't have much
to say about the story except that it is well-written, engaging, and
proceeds at a good pace with enough plot turns to keep things form
getting tired. There are no subtexts that I could spot, but the
movie is imbued with a humanity fitting of a vehicle for Cushing's
Van Helsing. I kept noticing how the script makes use of the quality
of mercy. An innkeeper and his wife try to turn out Marianne knowing
that if she stays she'll be in danger. The Baroness, a lifelong
debauch like her son, nevertheless loves him and cannot bring herself
to destroy him. She offers false hospitality to lure victims, but
having spent a few short hours with Marianne shows signs of
ambivalence if not remorse. Knowing the greater danger, a priest
forces himself to be dispassionate toward the grieving father of a
vampire's now undead prey. Later, Marianne places herself in harm's
way to keep watch over the body of a friend.
The two most
striking pieces in the film are so because they are infused with
compassion. The first is the raising of a new vampire: she claws her
way out of the ground* like a chick struggling to break though an
eggshell while Greta coos encouragement to her. It's a spooky scene
already, and the tenderness between the monsters raises it to a new
level of unsettling – the human value of love evident in the
inhuman. Having been instructed by the Baroness' love for her son,
Greta now steps into the role of mother figure to a growing cell of
brides. Greta is a fascinating character who appears too briefly,
and the film could only have benefited from exploring her further.
The second
standout sequence involves Van Helsing and a newly-born vampire
filled with regret and horror at what she has become. Van Helsing
tells her that there is a way to save herself – that she allow him
to stake her. She accepts with a grateful smile, and the two await
the sunrise together. It's a singular scene in vampire cinema, quiet
and soulful. Cushing has a grace about him that eases the tragedy
and beautifully showcases the traits that make his interpretation of
Van Helsing shine.
If Brides brings
anything new to the table, it's this capacity for heartfelt
connection in vampires.
The script went
through a number of rewrites that de-emphasized the usual focus on
sexuality. That's surprising given that the lead vamp in the movie
is played by young David Peel with his boyish matinee-idol looks, and
that a major setting is a school for girls! Instead, the Baron comes
across as a romantic cad and schemer with none of the leering.
Perhaps it blunts a potential edge from the tone, it serves to
distinguish this new vampire from Lee's Dracula. Any attempt to
replace Lee as Dracula would have paled, so it's best that Baron
Meinster be cast in a new mold entirely. The title of the film is
a holdover from earlier drafts. Some have made hay of its suggestive
nature linking Meinster directly to Dracula as a bride, but neither
director Fisher nor the screenwriters (including Jimmy Sangster who
presumably did the final draft) ever do anything with it.
Fisher does great
job here. Never lurid or overstated, he maintains a solid
supernatural threat balanced well with human drama and the whole
flows evenly. He gets fine acting from his cast – Cushing is a
given, and Martita Hunt rivals him, giving the Baroness an inner life
that speaks effortlessly of history and nuances.
Jack Asher's
cinematography complements Fisher's even tone with a deep focus and
complex lighting that gives the actors natural tones and makes
sparing use of gels in the background – usually motivated by set
decor, which itself is agreeably busy. The sets and costumes are
rich without being overbearing.
Brides of Dracula
is, I think, one of the best of Hammer's catalog and a superior entry
in their Dracula franchise.
*The undead
clawing their way out of the moil of the grave is a cliched film
image by now, but I wonder when was it first seen. More
specifically, when was the first time it was used in a vampire movie?
I don't recall seeing it in an earlier vampire movie than Brides.
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