Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992)
Is it possible for Dracula to be scary anymore? The count from Transylvania is the most portrayed literary character in all of cinema, far outpacing his closest rival Sherlock Holmes. There have been so many interpretations and parodies of Dracula, it’s hard for the character to inspire the same sense of dread he might have 100 or even 50 years ago. That’s not to say a Dracula film can’t be entertaining. But an important aspect of fear is the unknown and unfamiliar. When dealing with such a known quantity as Dracula, few modern horror viewers are likely to experience any great measure of fright. Still, it’s fun to see filmmakers try.
Bram Stoker’s Dracula, directed by Francis Ford Coppola from a screenplay by James V. Hart, is in my view the definitive Dracula film. Is it scary? Not really, but it’s very entertaining. Closely adhering to Stoker’s novel more than most, it also incorporates every significant aspect of Dracula lore that has developed over the years, while managing to avoid some of the more clichéd visual tropes. Gone are the black cape, dinner suit, high collars, and Bela Lugosi-style widow’s peak. Instead, Eiko Ishioka’s Oscar-winning costume design incorporates Japanese influences, such as Dracula’s red robe worn when Jonathan Harker (Keanu Reeves) first encounters him. Hair and makeup designer Michèle Burke also won an Academy Award; Dracula’s bizarre hairdo that resembles either a heart or two balls is unsettling all by itself.
Coppola’s adaptation of Dracula is above all an operatic visual spectacle, with over-the-top performances to match. It’s weird, campy, erotic, shocking, overblown in the best sense, and swings for the fences. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we’ve seen little of Dracula on the silver screen since this film. Where do you take the character from here? Not only does Coppola adapt the novel’s elements with more faithfulness than any other Dracula film, such as how the story is told through letters, diary entries, ship’s logs, etc. He also incorporates other elements of Dracula lore, such as the romantic aspect in which Dracula falls for a woman who is a reincarnation of a past love. And he gives the film a truly epic scope by combining the literary Dracula with the “real” historical Dracula who inspired Stoker: Vlad the Impaler, the 15th century Romanian prince notorious for his cruelty and violence.
Another unique aspect of the film is its approach to visual effects. Coppola opted not to use contemporary effects such as CGI, but instead to adapt techniques from the early days of cinema and produce all effects “in camera”. These include the use of matte paintings, miniatures, forced perspective, rear projection, and multiple exposure. Coppola’s old-school approach ironically makes the film’s effects appear less dated than if the filmmakers had used early ’90s CGI, which aside from pioneers like Terminator 2 and Jurassic Park has not held up well. Combined with spectacular sets such as Dracula’s castle, the effects help conjure up a sense of otherworldliness, particularly during scenes in Transylvania.
The performances are as operatic, bombastic, and over-the-top as the rest of the movie, centred on Gary Oldman’s Count Dracula. This portrayal of the count brings together many different aspects from his history: the Eastern European accent of Bela Lugosi, the animalistic ferocity of Christopher Lee, the suavity and romantic longing of Frank Langella (not to mention William Marshall’s Blacula, a pioneer in this approach), and the long claw-like fingernails of Max Schrek’s Count Orlok. Dracula transforms into animals, from a wolf-like creature to a humanoid bat. Vlad’s 15th century armor designed by Ishioka also looks amazing. Throwing historical accuracy and realism out the window, the design looks like someone took human musculature and turned it into a suit of armor.
While ably assisted by makeup and costume changes that provide Dracula with a range of appearances, Oldman’s performance is the lynchpin that holds all these disparate aspects of the character together. His skill is most evident in Dracula’s romance with Mina Harker, reincarnation of his late wife Elisabeta (Winona Ryder plays both roles). While Oldman is a fine-looking man, I don’t think anyone has ever considered him a sex symbol. Yet he makes Dracula an immensely seductive figure through sheer will and acting talent.
Anthony Hopkins, a similarly able thespian, instantly became one of my favourite interpretations of Dracula’s nemesis Prof. Abraham Van Helsing, surpassed only by Peter Cushing in the Hammer films. Hopkins projects competence, intelligence, and wit as a modern man of science who nevertheless allows for the possibility of supernatural phenomena such as vampires.
One of my favourite scenes is when Mina’s best friend Lucy Westenra (Sadie Frost) is succumbing to vampirism after being bitten by Dracula. Van Helsing and Dr. Jack Seward (Richard E. Grant) struggle to control her as her fiancé Lord Arthur Holmwood (Cary Elwes) storms in, threatening Van Helsing and demanding to know what’s going on. In a few short sentences, Van Helsing explains the situation and the need for a blood transfusion. Within perhaps 30 seconds, Holmwood is offering his blood and telling Van Helsing, “Forgive me, sir. My life is hers — I would give my last drop of blood to save her.”
Van Helsing also has some funny moments. Aside from his tic of saying “Ja”, the following exchange after (spoiler alert) Van Helsing and other men have killed the vampiric Lucy is hilarious:
Mina Harker: How did Lucy die? Was she in great pain?
Professor Abraham Van Helsing: Ja, she was in great pain! We cut off her head, and drove a stake through her heart, and burned it, and then she found peace.
Winona Ryder, who played a key role in Coppola taking on this project, is good as Mina. She ably portrays a young Victorian woman exploring her sexuality amid the repressed nature of the times, seduced away from fiancé Jonathan by the suave and mysterious Vlad. I thought she did a commendable English accent.
The same cannot be said for Keanu Reeves, whose performance is legendary in its badness. Reeves’s attempt at an English accent is the worst accent I’ve ever heard in a major Hollywood film, perhaps any film. Apparently Reeves was exhausted from filming multiple movies in a row and, Coppola says, “wanted to do the accent perfectly and in trying to do it perfectly it came off as stilted.” Reeves, bless his heart, is always likable, but the definition of a limited actor: great in the right role, but awful outside his wheelhouse, especially historical films. He just feels too modern. No matter how hard Reeves tries at an English accent, he always comes off like a California surfer dude trying to blend in to a 19th century period piece.
The only way to defend Reeves in this role is to 1) play up the campiness of this film, and 2) to compare him to Harker at Dracula’s castle, by which I mean both are in way over their heads. Either excuse falls flat. Coppola has admitted Reeves was cast because they wanted a hot, good-looking young actor, a matinée idol type, to attract youthful audiences. I’m sure they could have found one who was also believable in this role. This movie might have been a 10/10 for me if not for Reeves. That’s how bad he is here: the definition of miscast.
To be fair, Coppola’s emphasis on sexuality is understandable. This is the most overtly sexual interpretation of Dracula yet. I’m sure there have been plenty of scholarly analyses of both book and film in terms of its approach to repressed sexual desire of the Victorian era. This film revels in sex and nudity: from Jonathan’s encounter with Dracula’s brides (one played by a young Monica Bellucci), to Lucy’s flirtatious ways and literally bestial congress with Dracula, to Mina’s adulterous seduction by him.
More than any other subgenre of horror, vampire stories have always had a strong appeal to women. I think of the tagline for John Boorman’s 1979 Dracula starring Frank Langella in the title role — in many ways a transitional film for turning Dracula into more of a romantic figure: “Throughout history he has filled the hearts of men with terror, and the hearts of women with desire.” You can also see it in the predominantly female audiences for works such as the Twilight series or The Vampire Diaries. But even in the Christopher Lee era, women Dracula preyed upon would almost invitingly display their necks. The sexual metaphors here are self-evident.
No scene in Bram Stoker’s Dracula illustrates that better than when Van Helsing, Seward, and Holmwood struggle to get Lucy under control as she writhes uncontrollably on her bed after being bitten by Dracula. It’s worth remembering that “female hysteria”, which medical authorities no longer recognize, was a common medical diagnosis for women in Victorian England. Alleged symptoms included “anxiety, shortness of breath, fainting, nervousness, sexual desire, insomnia, fluid retention, heaviness in the abdomen, irritability, loss of appetite for food or sex, (paradoxically) sexually forward behavior, and a ‘tendency to cause trouble for others’.”
The icing on the cake of Bram Stoker’s Dracula is the music, with a fantastic score by Polish composer Wojciech Kilar. I think this illustrates the difference between traditional film scores and those from the past 20 years or so. With few exceptions, recent film scores almost go out of their way not to draw attention to themselves; to act as ambience or musical wallpaper. Kilar’s score is more in keeping with the older tradition of movie composers like John Williams, who strove to make their scores noticeable and distinctive. The music here perfectly conveys the weirdness and supernatural horror of Dracula, and the epic tragedy of Vlad, while making space for beautiful love themes. Annie Lennox also contributes a great pop ballad over the end credits with “Love Song for a Vampire”.
One could quibble about some of the logic in this film. It’s never explained why, for example, Dracula first becomes a vampire by driving his sword into the stone of a cross and renouncing God. I don’t think it matters. We understand the character’s motivations for renouncing God in the first place: he fights a religious war, only to find his wife has killed herself after receiving misinformation from hostile forces declaring his death. The film is captivating and theatrical throughout, never boring the viewer, and I was with it for every emotional beat. It’s as creepy as any presentation of Dracula could possibly be to a modern audience. Reeves’s performance aside, this is the authoritative Dracula.
9/10
