When Hammer Film Productions introduced Horror of Dracula ( Dracula , in England) to American film audiences during the summer of 1958, a new era of Dracula and vampire cinema was upon us.

      Or was it?

      Both general movie aficionados and horror film fanatics are quick to jump into two camps concerning the supremacy of individual screen Draculas, most selecting either Bela Lugosi, who single-handedly created the popular conception of a "horror movie star," and Christopher Lee, who frequently essayed the Dracula role for Hammer Films.  

      The Lugosi supporters cite his European elegance and aristocratic demeanor, his deliberately delivered dialogue, his suave veneer, and his subtle animal magnetism.   Actor Lugosi still remains the popular conception of the Count in the American consciousness, starring in what Universal Pictures called "the strangest passion the world has ever known."   And although steeped in wonderfully Gothic surroundings (the "broken battlements" of his Transylvanian castle are a masterpiece of set design), Lugosi's vampire remained sexy:   more than 90 percent of the actor's fan mail came from women.   His Dracula was proof that vampires were frightening and attractive.   "They wanted to know if I only wanted maiden's blood," the actor later recalled.   And while tastes in what is and isn't attractive have changed, Lugosi's peculiar charm introduced the element of sensuality missing from Stoker's hoary creation.

      Christopher Lee's Count primed his sexual pump with gushes of sensual magnetism and animal savagery.   In his brief scenes at the beginning of Horror of Dracula , he quickly turns from bland aristocrat to demonic fiend.   While Universal Studio's ad campaign suggested that "he [Dracula] kisses with crimson lips," Hammer showed us those blood-smeared chops in glorious Technicolor, close-up and bestial.   As Lugosi slowly lunged for his victim's throat with a furtive sexuality,   Lee's approach was more seductive and erotic, at first tenderly nuzzling his female victim's face and neck before barring his fangs and digging in for the kill.

      To be honest, both interpretations of Dracula are surprisingly much more similar than has been suggested in the annals of film criticism.   Neither actor closely adheres to Stoker's original concept of the vampire, and neither actor has starred in a film that can legitimately be called a definitive adaptation of the novel.   However, both actors are elegantly European, cultured and dangerous, albeit in their own individual ways.  

      When Lugosi's Count pays a visit to his eventual victims in the privacy of their opera box seats, or when he greets the overwhelmed Renfield (Dwight Frye) at Castle Dracula, Lugosi always exudes a disquieting old world charm.  

      Lee plays a similar scene when greeting Jonathan Harker (John Van Eyssen) to his castle, and though he has less dialogue than Lugosi, he is an equally attentive host.   And while Lee's barbaric, hissing attack upon Jonathan Harker in the library is more visceral than anything in Lugosi's Dracula , Lugosi does indeed display his predatory nature when Renfield cuts his finger on a paper clip.   His creepy slow crawl forward, arm outstretched,   maniacal smile on his face, reveals the blood-loving beast underneath the veneer of the composed Count.  

      But even more revealing is Dracula's quick anger upon looking into Van Helsing's (Edward Van Sloan) mirrored cigarette box.   When the vampire's nemesis tricks the Count into revealing his vampirism (by lack of reflection), Lugosi responds with a hateful, feral look of fury.

      The most apparent differences between the interpretations of Lugosi and Lee are found in their body language and movement.   Since Lugosi's Count is a creature of stately deliberation, it would be impossible for Lugosi to create the frenetic energy that Lee displays at the climax of Horror of Dracula.   In that film's well-remembered climax, Dracula and Van Helsing (Peter Cushing) settle their dispute in a ferocious bout of hand-to-hand combat.   Such exertions seem beyond Lugosi's Dracula, who creeps and floats as though he were starring in an opera whose musical rhythms dictate his movement.   Christopher Lee's Count is more the cornered wolf whose guttural wails and biting, clawing brutality echoes his need to survive at any cost.

      Yet in spite of these and other differences, both interpretations of Count Dracula are ultimately similar in the following ways:   both are romantic figures whose interests lie with the female of the species, both are of patently aristocratic stock, both can generate a false charm to disarm victims, and both are unrepentant monsters hiding under a surface of cultured European breeding.

      For far too long Dracula buffs have been trying to separate Christopher Lee and Bela Lugosi into opposite points of the compass, stressing the differences in their interpretations in an effort to paint one actor as being superior in the role to the other. Myself, I disagree with many film historians and favor Christopher Lee's visceral performance over Lugosi's theatrical interpretation of the Count.   While Lugosi's performance is different, it's every bit as good, and I have no fault over those critics who favor Lugosi's performance.

      It is the frequency of Lee's Dracula performances on film that has also helped him put his individual stamp upon the role.   Lugosi played Dracula in 1931 and did not repeat the role again onscreen until 1948 when he appeared in the comic spoof, Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, despite more than two decades of stage appearances in the role too numerous to chronicle in these pages.  

      But Christopher Lee created Hammer's Dracula franchise, which allowed him to essay the role in seven films:   Horror of Dracula, Dracula--Prince of Darkness, Dracula Has Risen from the Grave, Taste the Blood of Dracula, Scars of Dracula, Dracula A.D. 1972 , and Satanic Rites of Dracula ( Count Dracula and his Vampire Bride in the U.S.) .   Whether or not one views Christopher Lee's performance as superior or inferior to Bela Lugosi's, the fact remains that no actor in movie history has portrayed the evil Count as many times on the screen. (Lee did his own riffs on Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein when he parodied his Dracula portrayal in Uncle Was A Vampire and Dracula Father and Son . He also worked outside Hammer to appear in director Jess Franco's abysmal Count Dracula .)

      This is the first major accomplishment that Hammer Film Productions added to the evolution of Dracula cinema:   the concept that the infamous anti-hero could headline a cinematic franchise and carry the audience simply on the basis of Christopher Lee's image, name, and box office appeal.   To a new generation of horror movie fans, Christopher Lee was Count Dracula, and Hammer the new home of Gothic cinema.   Even though the early Hammer Dracula films most successfully stand the test of time, especially the first, Horror of Dracula (considered by many to be Hammer's masterpiece), Brides of Dracula, and Dracula--Prince of Darkness are superior productions as well.   The subsequent sequels grow less and less ambitious:   Taste the Blood of Dracula is the last entry worthy of serious critical attention, while Scars of Dracula, Dracula A.D. 1972 , and Satanic Rites of Dracula not only tarnish the reputation of Hammer Films, but drag Stoker's creation to new lows.

      Despite the eventual degeneration of the series, Hammer's Horror of Dracula is pivotal to the history of Dracula films for bringing the subtext of Tod Browning's film into stark relief:   the perversity of vampirism and the all-consuming seduction of evil.  

      Bela Lugosi's Dracula looked and acted evil, and while he appears dominantly handsome outside of Carfax Abbey, the persistence of his evil both repels and attracts.   However, Christopher Lee's unconventional good looks go beyond the similar virtues which Lugosi brought to the cinematic table.   Lee's Count is openly sensual and erotic, and his two female victims are eager to be savaged by their dark and bloody seducer.   First the youthful and virginal Lucy (Carol Marsh) is slowly sapped of her energy as she longingly looks beyond the bay windows as the autumn leaves rustle and blow past.   Her breathing becomes forced and rhythmic, her bosom heaves up and down, as her blatant sexual urges await satisfaction at the mouth of Dracula.   Her naked passion leads to a nocturnal visit from the dreaded Count.   Soon the undead Lucy's sexual abandon reaches greater perversity as she stalks children, becoming a vampiric child molester.   The vampire's all-consuming sexuality even extends to incest:   Lucy attempts a nightgown-clad seduction of Holmwood (Michael Gough), her own brother, who initially resists.   Fortunately he is rescued by the hidden Van Helsing as she attempts to "kiss" her brother's vulnerable throat.

      Interestingly enough, Hammer's latter-day entries in the erotic vampire sweepstakes-- The Vampire Lovers, Lust for a Vampire , and Twins of Evil --which are much more blatant and soft-core in their sexuality, fail to generate the erotic perverse intensity inherent in these earlier, more subtle Hammer entries.   These 1970s Hammer films are much more titillating upon a surface viewing, but their cheap eroticism lacks the intensity and artistic expression displayed in these earlier Gothic films.

      Later in Horror of Dracula , Holmwood's wife Mina (Melissa Stribling) becomes the latest "bride" of Dracula, hiding the Count's coffin in the cellar of her own home.   Wearing high collars or scarves to hide the mark of Dracula "kiss," Mina's smirks and smiles cannot deny the hidden satisfactions which she has encountered as willing victim of Dracula.   Her cold, aloof, and dogmatic husband Arthur seems passionless and pallid compared to her nocturnal lover, a sexual outlet that Mina obviously needs.   In such an interesting romantic triangle, Mina seems so much more alive during her necrophilic "affair" with Dracula than with her cold-fish husband.   In this Victorian world view, Dracula's romantic power is the root-cause of his menace.   If sex is anti-social and evil, then the sexless Van Helsing's zeal to eradicate such a blatant sexual monster makes him a worthy opponent of the sexually active vampire king.   Here Horror of Dracula anticipates the spate of "slasher" films in the 1970s and 1980s, where sexual release is often met with physical punishment and violent death.   In this mythic vision created by Hammer, vampirism is akin to sexual experimentation... and to be stopped at any cost!   By repeatedly making vampirism both sexual and dangerous--as seen first in Stoker's text and later in Universal's Dracula's Daughter --Hammer has underlined an important part of Dracula cinema.

      Even though Stoker created much of the accepted lore concerning vampires--that a vampire must sleep in consecrated soil, that a vampire casts no reflection in a mirror, and that a vampire may be destroyed by a wooden stake through the heart--Hammer dramatically recast those rules by portraying vampirism as a cult or a perverted religious sect.   In the capable hands of Hammer's scenarists (mainly Jimmy Sangster and Anthony Hinds/John Elder), the "new rules" of vampirism resulted in a Religion of the Undead.  

      This is another major contribution that Hammer made to Dracula cinema:   a radically new way to perceive vampirism. The concept was best explored in Hammer's The Kiss of the Vampire , whereby the vampires, under leader Dr. Ravna (Noel Willman), were actually a cult whose members, during their ceremonial meetings, wore white robes and initiated new members into vampirism.   Such an undead cult was merely hinted at in Hammer's Horror of Dracula, and its successful sequel, The Brides of Dracula , as Peter Cushing's Van Helsing speaks frequently about "the cult of the undead."   Later, the vampire cult idea could be found in both Vampire Circus and Captain Kronos:   Vampire Hunter .                  

      In these, and other vampire films, Hammer, like Universal, focused upon the anemic, strength-sapping illnesses of the otherwise healthy and young female victims of vampirism.   Their energies and spirits are sapped by some unseen malady;   eventually, the victims die a slow, tragic death, their energies only returning when they rise from their graves.   It is in these sequences especially that Hammer infused "new blood" into the genre.   These reanimated corpses, now seductively dressed and burning with renewed energy and sensual power, roam the woods and graveyards by night, searching out new victims for blasphemous sexual crimes.  

      Hammer also liked to paint religious paraphernalia in bold, symbolic colors.   In the classic Universal films a vampire would snarl and flee from the appearance of the small crucifix on a chain;   in Hammer's world, a larger, silver cross would be held outstretched like the Holy Grail, forcing the condemned vampire to squirm and slowly back away in agony.   Sometimes, the vampire would vanquish its tormentor, and stare down the cross-wielding crusader.   Harking back to Stoker's novel, Hammer had religious symbols burn impressions into the flesh of vampires touched by them.   Such fear and loathing would be registered by orgasmic breathing, a heaving of breasts, and ultimately screams of pain as the flesh was burned by this symbol of good.   In the hands of Hammer's directors and writers, vampire hunters wielded huge crucifixes and large stakes, perhaps too blatantly phallic, all the more visually symbolic of their goodness in fighting the disease of vampirism.

      The reanimated seductress would then be lured back into her unholy resting place, back into her crypt, back into her coffin, where only the knowledgeable vampire slayer could bring peace to the tormented victim of the undead.   The horror of vampirism for Hammer, like Stoker before them, is best manifested as a voluptuous, wanton lust in the female of the species.   Thus, when Van Helsing drives a wooden stake through the shrieking vampire's heart, vivid crimson spurting as the wooden shaft is buried deep in the vampire's chest, the sexual subtexts that drive both novel and film adaptations are consummated.   Finally, after turning away from all this bloodletting, the camera would inevitably return to the face of the vampire, now in peaceful repose, having been freed from the vampire's sexual hunger through a "cleansing" act of brutal sexual healing.

      Such horrific stakings, blood spurtings, and peaceful redemptions would be repeated in such Hammer films as Brides of Dracula, Kiss of the Vampire, and Dracula--Prince of Darkness .   These sequences powerfully demonstrate the mythic, ritualistic, and religious dogma which Hammer created around its interpretation of vampirism.   And to reinforce the concept of vampirism as a perverted cult or unholy religion, Van Helsing was soon replaced in the Hammer series by actual men of the cloth, including such clerics as Father Sandor (Andrew Keir) in the monastery-set Dracula--Prince of Darkness and the Monsignor (Rupert Davies) from Dracula Has Risen from the Grave .  

      Hammer chose to illustrate the battle of good against evil with imagery more overtly religious than anything found in the Universal films.   The vampire myth was revised in Dracula Has Risen from the Grave to include the proviso that a vampire can only be killed by a wooden stake if its attacker is a true believer in God and manages to say a prayer before Dracula pulls out the bloody toothpick.

      Finally, the early Hammer films offered the lush Technicolor photography of cinematographer Jack Asher and others, aided in a large part by the budget-minded yet inspired production design by Bernard Robinson.   With the use of color, Hammer established that lush hues and Gothic horror can go hand-in-hand.   In the 1950s to early 1960s, Technicolor photography was at its artistic peak, and Horror of Dracula and Brides of Dracula remain as examples of Hammer's most inspired use of color photography, perhaps the most creative in the history of horror cinema.  

      Universal was fortunate in having the genius of German-born Karl Freund to create the look of Dracula in all its monochromatic splendor, and the set design for Lugosi's Transylvania castle remains the most dazzling ever recorded in a horror film.   Hammer, however, dared to add color and period detail to its horror Gothics, employing a veneer of Victorianism more consistently than Universal.

      Horror of Dracula --though it is difficult to convince people who never saw the film theatrically--is a totally different film when viewed in its original Technicolor.    Its later reissues (both on video cassette and laser disc), in more muted Eastmancolor, rob the film of much of its splendor.   In its original form, the deep saturated hues and tones of Castle Dracula's interiors are awe-inspiring.  

      Hammer changed the look of horror films when it lensed Horror of Dracula in rich primary colors.   Even the drops of blood that fall upon the crypt inscription of "Dracula" during the opening credits are literally   redder than red.   Universal successfully proved that Gothic films do not have to depict reality, but rather suggest an alternate world of light and shadow.   The Gothics of Hammer were no more natural than Universal's, but they used a more colorful palette to illustrate its unnatural world.  

      Reality isn't the goal of Christopher Lee's horrific entrance during the library sequence in Horror of Dracula --his fangs bared in depraved intensity, blood smeared all over his mouth and face--just stark terror.   Director Terence Fisher and cinematographer Jack Asher ably accomplish their goal--to bring scares back to the horror film and the Baby Boomers that wanted them.

      Even in the more subtle sequences of Horror of Dracula , with the daylight fading and autumn leaves blowing wildly just outside of large French windows, a somber mood is generated through inspired color photography.  

      For the climactic struggle between Dracula and Van Helsing, Hammer set designers decorated Dracula's study with knickknacks, globes, shelves, and antique furniture, creating a setting both ancient and evil.   Against this backdrop, the color photography makes Dracula all the more frightening in his funeral clothes and black cape, appearing like the Devil incarnate.   Cushing's Van Helsing dives for the curtains to reveal the first rays of sunlight, again abetted by superb color lensing, creating such an impact as the image of sunlight--so white, so pure--contrasting the dark evil that the black-caped Dracula represents.   Dracula's graying, decomposing flesh slowly turns to ash, eventually blowing away with a cleansing breeze, leaving only his ring within the colorful astrological circle painted onto the floor.   Again, such a contrast would not be nearly as effective if filmed in black and white:   the key sequences in Hammer's films were created and designed to take advantage of color photography.

      Finally, while Hammer continued the already hallowed tradition of turning away from Stoker's novel, it also avoided the stagy elements of the Hamilton Deane-John L. Balderston play.   Horror of Dracula is not the definitive interpretation of Stoker's novel, nor does it try to be.   But by parting from the text of the play, the Hammer film avoids the talky, stage-bound quality that hobbles the Lugosi film.   Jimmy Sangster's tight screenplay manages to keep the action moving at a brisk clip while never losing an opportunity to maintain a high level of scares.   Characters are sketched quickly, but never caricatured, and events speed forward with an internal logic sometimes missing from Stoker's novel.   For speed, economy of narrative, and story momentum, Horror of Dracula remains the best of the Dracula movies.  

      As Sangster states in his autobiography Do You Want It Good or Tuesday? (Midnight Marquee Press, 1997):   "In the novel, Dracula came to England by sea.   There was no way that Hammer was going to go for that... so we settled for a journey on a horse-drawn carriage, crossing a border manned by one customs-immigration official.   That they could shoot in the grounds of Bray Studios." And just as he did with The Curse of Frankenstein a year earlier, Sangster fashioned his screenplay around Hammer's resources, providing a showcase for their abilities.   Sangster did manage to use some of the novel's many characters--Jonathan Harker, Mina Murray, Lucy Westenra, Arthur Holmwood--but pared away many of their relationships and personal histories.   Sangster's 82-minute movie script instead concentrated on the Gothic implications of bringing to life a monstrous, undead Vampire King who thirsts and lusts for human blood.   "The terrifying lover who died yet lived... the blood in his veins once flowed through hers!" declared the ads for the American release.

      It is amazing to think that Jimmy Sangster only made £750 (or $1200 at today's current rate of exchange) for writing Horror of Dracula , the unofficial Hammer masterpiece.   In his autobiography, Jimmy Sangster writes:   "Okay, so it was a pretty good movie... But masterpiece!   Come on!"

      Mr. Sangster's legions of fans beg to differ.

      Like Stoker's novel, Sangster's Dracula is the focal point of attention even though he is mostly offstage.   Actor Christopher Lee only appears onscreen for a total of some seven minutes, yet he remains the catalyst for the film's action.   He also completely reshaped and recast the Lugosi persona to create his own interpretation.   By appearing in six additional Hammer productions, he became the omnipresent Dracula of the Baby Boomer generation.   Freely acknowledging Lee's many limitations as an actor, it cannot be disputed that his performance in Horror of Dracula is a classic in its own right.   More so than Lugosi, Lee's Count Dracula is a terribly flawed anti-hero.   However, just as soon as the audience comes to sense the loneliness inherent in the state of vampirism, his feral demonism breaks through;   Dracula becomes the cornered beast who will gladly kill rather than be killed.   And thus emerges both the sad Byronic hero and the insidious, seductive fiend, all housed within the character of Count Dracula, onscreen for less than 10 minutes in this 82-minute film.

      Jimmy Sangster's script reserves its main focus for the athletic, monomaniacal vampire hunter Dr. Van Helsing, for once not portrayed as an elderly savant.   Sangster casts Van Helsing as Dracula's sole nemesis, rather than the leader of a band of vampire hunters found in Stoker's novel, and the tension between these two adversaries creates the dramatic core of the movie.   Sangster's pulse-pounding ending provides a truly dramatic confrontation between Van Helsing and Count Dracula, something missing from every earlier movie version.   And this climax, even today, remains a treasure.

      Hammer Film Productions of England never had the resources available at Universal Pictures, lacking the American studio's money, top-drawer performers, and Hollywood's masterful technicians.   However, with Horror of Dracula Hammer had a vision.   Limited by a low budget, hampered by a restrictive censor board, and hoping to repeat the lucky financial success of their earlier The Curse of Frankenstein , Hammer happened to combine a screenwriter of immense creativity, a director who understood the dramatic tension inherent in horror films, a cinematographer who was a master of Technicolor photography, a production designer who could perform miracles on a limited budget, and two acting talents who each found his niche in modern genre films.   Against all odds, Horror of Dracula became a landmark film, one that became much more than just a remake, but a film that redefined the expectations of cinematic Gothic horror to become the trendsetter for all subsequent Dracula films to be produced for the next two decades.

      Horror of Dracula is a classic horror film, and Christopher Lee's performance as Dracula is a revitalization of the character.   The question is not whether his performance is better than Lugosi's, for Bela Lugosi's identification with the role is too complete and encompassing for any actor to do more than offer variations upon its theme.   But Hammer and Horror of Dracula redefined the vampire-Dracula cinema for Baby Boomers, cutting new creative trails through unknown terrain, a terrain that is waiting yet to be further explored by a new generation of horror film and Dracula aficionados.