Dracula (1931).

Review #1733: Dracula.

Cast: 

Carlos Villarías (Conde Drácula), Lupita Tovar (Eva), Barry Norton (Juan Harker), Pablo Álvarez Rubio (Renfield), Eduardo Arozamena (Van Helsing), José Soriano Viosca (Doctor Seward), Carmen Guerrero (Lucía), Amelia Senisterra (Marta), and Manuel Arbó (Martín) Directed by George Melford (#1318 - The Sheik)

Review: 

Believe it or not, there was a time long ago when wanting to show a film in different countries meant more than just hiring folks to dub voices. Sure, one could just change a few things around in title cards for the silent era, but there really was a moment in time where studios thought the best way to potentially get a few bucks from places like Mexico was to just hire a bunch of actors (for cheaper than they had spent the first time around) and do it all over again; Paramount on Parade (1930) for example, had thirteen releases (with the all-star revue having versions from Spanish to Czech). Universal Studios did this for a time in 1930, and this extends to The Cat Creeps (1930), which had George Melford as director and Lupita Tovar as star. Melford certainly is an interesting presence to be behind this, an actor/director for several decades, although by the time of the 1930s he would curtail his work as director (doing just seven in the decades after handfuls in the previous one). Of course, he also did not speak any Spanish nor did he understand it, so he used a translator to talk with his actors. I'm sure you are familiar with Tod Browning's Dracula (1931), one that was adapted from each the 1897 book of the same name by Bram Stoker and the 1924 stage play of the same name (which had been written by Hamilton Deane and John L. Balderston). That movie was shot in the day time, while the Spanish-language edition would be done at night (complete with similar shots), and Melford had the benefit of seeing the rushes of the prior shoot. Of course, the big difference is that this movie is 104 minutes long, which essentially is half an hour longer than the English-language film.

One has to remember that it probably doesn't matter which language version is better. Of course, one film didn't have the distinction of languishing in obscurity for four decades, where having a screening at the Museum of Modern Art in 1977 (not complete, but close) was the impetus for making the film known more to folks beyond historians. Home video releases came in the 1990s, but a restoration (of both versions) only came in 2012 (incidentally, I think I've watched Dracula (1931) about once since that year). Honestly, as an overall experience, the Spanish-language film is probably the more interesting experience, although they each have merits to consider, depending on how much one wants to consider it beyond just who has the better Dracula and who has the better pace. To put it nicely, the Spanish Dracula is a bit more interesting to watch because it doesn't seem as static (of course, years of watching horror movies, complete with a handful from the same era has certainly colored the perception), complete with extended versions of scenes seen earlier, such as the scene on the boat, which now includes a few screams and a shot of a hand coming out. In general, the cast in moments without Dracula seem a bit more ready to handle what the need to handle (at least besides the Van Helsing character, who was interesting whether played by Edward Van Sloan or not). The haunt level probably better by a margin, but there is certainly one area that the English version simply does better: Dracula himself. It must be an odd distinction to be known for a horror film, but imagine it being a particular version of a horror film, and thus one has the case of Villarías, who simply can't be as effective with the lines presented here, with his facial expressions playing a small part in that regard (seeming perhaps a bit more tuned to comedy), although one could argue that a nicer seeing vampire might make a scarier villain when revealed. Lugosi simply was the best at doing those little lines with the right amount of timing to make it seem worthwhile. Tovar does fine with what is needed here in innocence that was fairly present before (played by Helen Chandler before). While Norton doesn't have any more to do than the version played by David Manners, one won't be too disappointed to remember for long, while Rubio plays a fairly adequate nutso Renfield. Arozamena fills the warm dedicated presence fit to oppose Dracula without confusion. As a whole, there are a plethora of Dracula movies one could sit through from country to country to consider, each with their own perspective on how much one sees of Dracula and other considerations. In that sense, each 1931 Dracula movie can be thought of as part of a great curiosity, one to wonder just how folks can handle the challenge of doing a book/stage hodgepodge in the early days of sound did what they did with the same sets and props but with crucial differences.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Vampyr.

AND NOW...A SURPRISE, one that is long overdue...or at the very least I think so.

Review #071, Revisited: Dracula (1931).

Cast:

Bela Lugosi (Count Dracula), Helen Chandler (Mina Seward), David Manners (John Harker), Dwight Frye (Renfield), Edward Van Sloan (Van Helsing), Herbert Bunston (Dr. Seward), Frances Dade (Lucy Weston), and Joan Standing (Nurse Briggs) Directed by Tod Browning.

Review: 

Consider the time of the 1930s. Sound was now coming into focus for feature films, so what better time for horror to come into focus than now? Or, at the very least, what better time to continue the cycle of taking material from books or the stage to satisfy the demand for films? Universal Pictures was no exception, having done plenty of these kind of movies, such as with The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923) and The Phantom of the Opera (1925). Ah, but this is a different kind of adaptation: It is  not only an adaptation of the 1897 book of the same name by Bram Stoker but also it is based off the 1924 stage play of the same name (written by Hamilton Deane and John L. Balderston). One of the stars of the production of Broadway was an actor by the name of Bela Lugosi (born Béla Ferenc Dezső Blaskó). The Hungarian actor escaped his native country in 1919 after breaking into acting two years prior, and he dabbled in Germany before settling into America, where he eventually went from labor work to bit film parts. The Dracula role on Broadway became his in 1927, and in spite of doubts from studio executives, he found his way towards the lead role for the film (incidentally, this was the same year he would become naturalized as a U.S. citizen). At the helm for the film was Tod Browning, who actually grew up with an interest in the circus, which went from vaudeville to eventually time spent as an actor before becoming a director by the mid 1910s.

This was the film that started what folks might consider the modern horror genre, and it is likely the film that most remember Browning and Lugosi for (with typecasting following for the latter over the next two decades). It is odd to consider then just how much legacies can affect the image of a film over time, considering the 90 years that now stand between the release of this film and now. Honestly, my perception of the film has changed over time, in that the teenaged version of me really dug it (i.e. as a 15 year old). Now, with the passage of time and with plenty more films under my belt, I can recognize that this film, while important to its place in the horror genre and the Universal Monsters line as a whole...is merely okay at best. The one shining reason to see it is for Lugosi, pure and simple. Of all the Draculas to come out on the silver screen, it is Lugosi who stands out as one of the most hypnotic and most interesting to view in the eyes of aristocratic charisma that haunts one's view, and one can certainly see why Lugosi would have an interesting time with finding roles after this film. Browning (whose career would close in 1939 after over forty features under his belt) seems a bit outmatched in elevating the material beyond static shots and a quick pace of just under 80 minutes, but at least one can say the film looks fairly nice despite a few failings in general tone. Frye does fairly well with evoking nuttiness (albeit with a bit of ham) that certainly steals the show away from others to their detriment (Van Sloan and the others are a bit wooden, but at least he seems like he should be wooden to play a curious hunter). Honestly, it is probably more curious that there was a Spanish version of this film, done at night over the course of three weeks with the same sets than anything. At any rate, this film and Frankenstein (1931) would play a key part in American horror in the sound age, and while one can debate the quality of what is seen rather than what lives on in legacy, it cannot be denied that Lugosi manages to make things stay on the level where it needs to go to keep things from turning into a dull affair.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Sheik (1921).

Review #1318: The Sheik.

Cast: 
Rudolph Valentino (Sheik Ahmed Ben Hassan), Agnes Ayres (Lady Diana Mayo), Ruth Miller (Zilah), George Waggner (Yousaef), Frank Butler (Sir Aubrey Mayo), Charles Brinley (Mustapha Ali), Lucien Littlefield (Gaston), Adolphe Menjou (Raoul de Saint Hubert), and Walter Long (Omair) Directed by George Melford.

Review: 
It is interesting to see where a career can go when it comes to a person's legacy. What does one think when they see the name of Rudolph Valentino? They see a matinee idol, a person who became a romantic symbol for Hollywood whose star rose like a comet and vanished just as quickly, with a leading career that lasted less than a decade. He had gotten his start in films as an extra after emigrating to the United States from Italy in 1913, with his debut allegedly being in a lost film named My Official Wife (1914). His major break was the film The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921), which occurred after June Mathis had discovered him during one of his extra appearances. In any case, the film proved to be a major success, making him into a star overnight. He appeared in four further films in that same year, but this is the one that would help seal his reputation and image as a "Latin lover" for the rest of his brief career. This was an adaptation of the 1919 romance novel of the same name by Edith Maude Hull and was adapted for the screen by Monte M. Katterjohn. It should be noted that James Kirkwood, Sr was the original choice for the title role before he declined due to salary concerns. Valentino had jumped studios to do this film (done at Paramount), feeling less than satisfied with Metro Pictures (who you may recognize from their 1924 merger with Goldwyn Pictures and Louis B. Mayer Pictures to make Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer).

In any case, one wonders how this desert romance holds up when looked at through the lens of a near century since its release. The immediate thought that went through my head before viewing it was "Stockholm syndrome" (involving someone developing a psychological alliance with captors during captivity). If one views it as a period piece, perhaps one can find a bit of surreal enjoyment, particularly for a film that even uses one of its final title-cards to say that its title character is actually European (English/Spanish, actually, but whose counting?). Look, the film is a bit weird. However, it cannot be denied that there is still a bit of fiery staying power for this film, having a hypnotically passionate Valentino that rises above being billed second to Ayres (whose career also started with small roles in 1914) to make something that keeps the eyeballs focused on something that teeters on corniness while trying to fit into escapism. Ayres does fine, although one might think the romantic angle was more of a tease than anything (the novel was far more controversial with its duo involving rape and plenty of stereotypes, so imagine the studio trying to be careful with the censor boards). The others are okay, in the same way that they certainly look like they want to be there making gestures and seem useful to something that seems mildly ready to inspire passion for 80 minutes. The film is fairly diverting enough to overcome its rickety foundations, where one can look at its main stars without it seeming completely off-putting or ridiculous. There were two more films involving the Sheik, with The Son of the Sheik (1926) starring both Valentino (in a double role that proved to be his last before his death that same year) and Ayres. A comedic role reversal named She's a Sheik with Bebe Daniels was released the following year. This is one of those unlikely films that finds a place in movie history. One wonders how it would've endured if was made in any other time other than the early 1920s, such as if it was made seven years earlier or later, but there is something mystical about it attracts attention even after nearly a century. Valentino may have lived as an idol for only five years, but his mark still comes through today as someone to look at on the screen.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.