SCARS OF DRACULA (1970) - I dislike when Hammer films are referred to, en masse, as campy; but sometimes the description fits well enough, as it does here. This is the sleazy, seedy, grindhouse Dracula film of the franchise. In an effort to reboot the franchise, Anthony Hinds disregards continuity and has the Count resurrected in his Castle. Things kick off on an... interesting note as a fake looking bat vomits blood over the Counts ashes, prompting some footage of his disintegration in TASTE THE BLOOD OF DRACULA to be run in reverse, thus allowing Christopher Lee to return to life. From there, theres some good stuff as a village girl is found dead in the fields and the villagers storm the castle... But then we get bogged down in some bedroom farce material as we are introduced to our insufferable young leads. The rest is a very mixed bag, featuring a little more screentime for Lee than usual and some arresting moments of unbridled sadism. I dont mind that the film is more violent and exploitative than its predecessors. On that level, the film is successful enough in its aims: its the one film in the series that goes for the gore and it delivers on that score. What I do mind is the utterly dismal look of the film coupled with the flat and listless direction by Roy Ward Baker. Baker was a very good journeyman whose career highlights included the best film about the Titanic--A NIGHT TO REMEMBER--and one of Hammers finest films--QUATERMASS AND THE PIT. He never seemed all that well suited to Gothic horror, however, and his handling of this material seems especially uninspired. He works in the odd flourish, but for the most part his coverage is very basic and lacking in atmosphere. Moray Grants lighting is, in a word, ugly. The makeup effects on the various unlucky villagers savaged to death by Dracula and his minion, the rubber bat, are pretty good--but poor Lee looks like a pantomime Dracula this time around. Coupled with Lees obvious boredom this time out, the end result only serves to make the character look like a shadow of his former self. He does spring to life during the various violent scenes, however, I will give him that. Then there are the sets to contend with: bearing in mind that the castle is supposed to be in bad shape following a fire, it still looks remarkably cheap and spare. This extends to the other sets as well. I gather that the budget was not appreciably cheaper than in the previous entries, so I can only blame this on the lighting; perhaps a little more care with the shadows would have made the sets look a little better or the background matte paintings a little less obvious. In addition to Lees admittedly unenthusiastic performance, the film is also burdened with the least interest young leads in any Hammer horror film. Dennis Waterman and Christopher Matthews are competent actors, but they seem badly cast; Baker later said that they should have swapped roles and I suspect he was right. Jenny Hanley is pretty, but her performance is compromised by being dubbed. The trio of Patrick Troughton, Michael Gwynn and Michael Ripper give the best performances, by far. Gwynn is effective as the ineffectual priest who seems poised to become a Van Helsing figure but ultimately does little to advance the action; theres an interesting revisionist idea here in questioning elder authority figures, but not much is made of it. Ripper has far and away the SURLIEST role of his career but he plays it very well. Troughton, a splendid character actor, labors behind a tacky makeup job with troglodyte eyebrows and a shaggy wig (speaking of wigs, the one on Gwynn is positively comical; the poor man looks like he will crumble under the weight of it!), and sometimes resorts to hammy mannerisms, but he is otherwise very effective as Draculas dim-witted retainer, Klove. Unlike the smooth and elegant Philip Latham in DRACULA PRINCE OF DARKNESS, Troughton is closer to the old-school monster minion one would expect in a 40s Universal outing. Troughton participates in the films kinkiest scene, in which the Count brands him with a red-hot sword for disobeying his orders, thus providing the film with its title; Troughton reportedly kept a still of this scene in hanging on his bathroom wall. In some respects, I admit I enjoyed this one a little more than I have done in the past--but for all its enthusiasm in going for the grimy and exploitative, I just wish it could have been directed with a bit more flair or rendered with a little more production polish. As it stands, it comes off as not only the nastiest of the series--but the most amateurish, as well.
Posted on: Tue, 23 Dec 2014 12:32:39 +0000
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