How do you set
about fighting vampires if you happen to be an atheist? That's the
central dilemma of this fourth film in Hammer's Dracula franchise.
It's an oddly gentle movie for standard vampiric fright fare. Oh,
you get your bloodlettings and wanton cruelty (it does star
Christopher lee, after all), yet when it's all over the lingering
impression is of an idealistic good nature, almost a gee-whizness
concerning the good will between rival systems of belief. The world
could use more of that.
The dilemma above
is faced by Paul, a forthright young man in love with the niece of a
disapproving Monsignor. Paul is an atheist, and when the Monsignor
tells him he admires honesty Paul makes the mistake of telling the
truth about his convictions. It causes a schism between everyone at
just the wrong moment, as the Monsignor has unwittingly gotten on the
bad side of the newly resurrected Dracula. For revenge Dracula
targets the Monsignor's niece, Maria., as his next conquest.
There are a few
of things that are slightly off about Dracula Has Risen, and Paul is
one of them. He's a nice guy, sure enough, highly personable and no
character flaws. He's an earnest and forthright fellow, wishing
offense to no one but eager for “Truth”, which he seeks in books.
It's his upbeat persona and interactions that give the movie a
G-rated feel in spite of the violence involved (bizarrely, the movie
has even been granted a G rating by the MPAA). Paul seems displaced
in tone and also in time. He and his drinking buddies come of as
anachronistic in their manners and ideals (and their hairstyles...)
DHRFtG was made to appeal directly to the youth audience at a time of
spreading protest among college students - 1967 had seen protests
against the Vietnam War, and within months of Risen's release in
February '68 those youth protests would spread worldwide to become
the “Year of Barricades”. It was a generational conflict, youth
shaking up and shaking off the institutions of their elders.
Yet Dracula Has
Risen is not an angry film, far from it. The generational conflict is
represented here as that of atheist Paul and the film's most learned
man, the Monsignor – who rejects Paul the moment he learns of
Paul's convictions. To this point in the film the Monsignor has been
shown to be a somewhat affable man but one who will bully and coerce
to enforce his views. A visit to the discussion boards on IMDb brings
up conversations in which people see his hostility to Paul as a sour
surprise. Actually, though, it isn't nearly negative enough to be
accurate to the period – another anachronism, the entire community
shows the film's Paul far more tolerance than a real-life
counterpart would have met. In reality Paul would have been a
scandal regardless what a swell guy he was.
Even so, Paul
really is presented as scrubbed so clean he's nearly glowing pink.
Don't alienate the core audience! His character never hints of anger
or rebellion, not even at odds with society at large. Paul's boss
loves the boy, Maria's mother asks him to leave only our of deference
to the Monsignor who cares for the family but is clearly pained to do
so. Paul's friends are as inoffensive as he is, with the possible
exception of the barmaid who chafes a little resentfully at romantic
boundaries. Essentially: what conflict? The world's a happy
get-along place! If DHRFtG is taking pains to be a part of the
movement and not just being opportunistic, then it's the voice
urging calm and understanding amidst passions. We can work
together.
So how does
Dracula fit into this? Erm – well, yeah. Exactly. I mean, the
movie isn't thematically deep, the subtexts are there but they float
on the surface like oil, never quite convincing that they are organic
to the whole. Dracula is the catalyst for reconciliations.
Furthering both the faith angle and the message of cooperation,
Dracula has taken as his servant a fallen priest suffering a crisis
of faith and conscience. Contrast this with his direct opponent, the
Monsignor who must rely upon a disbeliever to defeat evil. If the
movie is ultimately a little unsatisfying in resolving these themes,
it's still full of tantalizing little provocations.
Not the film is
all hope and joy: Christopher Lee is back as wild as ever. I don't
recall seeing look quite so cadaverous before – not Lee himself but
the makeup, which has taken a more sallow hue. Nothing dead about
his performance, though, he's even vicious to the horses that take
his carriage. The only thing that can stop him flat is the
flavorless dialog he's given. Honestly, the actor is a lot happier
when his vampire is snarling.
Freddie Francis
replaces Terence Fisher as director, and he does a fine job of
keeping things lively if tonally awkward (e.g. there's a bit of
business with a porcelain doll pushed off a bed by one of Dracula's
victims – succinct but unsubtle). Early in the movie I was
concerned that the look of the picture would be a bit dull, as the
natural lighting threatened to undo any atmospherics with the Count's
castle, or it's surroundings, or with a profaned church where a bit
of grue is discovered, but Francis has a new trick up his sleeve.
Whenever Dracula appears on screen he's shot with a filter that goes
deep amber in a halo around the center of the screen. The effect is
that of a miasma of sickness or evil surrounding the count. Or even
more, perhaps, late in the movie I was struck by the way the yellow
seen in a fireplace matched the filtered shots, and how it reflects
the religious bent of the movie – perhaps the yellow filter
suggests the suffocating nearness of hell itself. Not inapt, as
Dracula has already been conflated with the Prince of Darkness if
only by title. As the movie progresses its lighting becomes more and
more dreamlike with colors intensifying, mostly by an increasing use
of gels.
Adding to the
sense of surreality are some anomalies. In the city of Kleinenberg,
where Dracula tracks down the Monsignor, our principle characters
have a habit of getting around by rooftop rather than by street. By
the end of the movie all of the characters are traversing the roofs.
It's absurd, but it has an endearing dream logic to it. Similarly
the cellar of the inn where Dracula secretly takes up residence is
ridiculously extensive for a meager establishment with a cramped bar
and closetlike rooms. The guests and servants can hardly get around
upstairs but down below are more spacious work and storage areas that
include a spooky Gothic structure that must be well out from under
the building. It could have no possible function except as an
invitation to furtive evil monsters. Personally, I find the
dreamlike aspects of Dracula has Risen are ultimately the most
endearing thing about it.
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