Mona Washbourne | Through the Shattered Lens

So, imagine this. Two years have passed since your film company released a low-budget film called Horror of Dracula. To the surprise of many, the film became an international hit that not only revived interest in the character of Dracula but also made a star out of an imposing and opinionated actor named Christopher Lee. Naturally, being a smart film mogul, you want to make a sequel to Horror of Dracula. Both director Terrence Fisher and screenwriter Jimmy Sangster have agreed to return to make a second part of the franchise. Now, all you have to do is recruit your star…

…and Christopher Lee doesn’t want to do the film!

There are conflicting reports on just how much Christopher Lee disliked the Hammer Dracula films. Lee, himself, has been inconsistent on the subject, occasionally claiming that he hated all of them and then other times saying that he only disliked the sequels. One thing that does remain consistent is that Lee reportedly feared being typecast as Dracula and, as a result, he initially declined to be a part of any sequel.

Nowadays, they’d probably just recast the role with Nicolas Cage. But this was the late 50s/early 60s and, instead of recasting, Hammer just made a Dracula film without Dracula. Yes, the film may have been called The Brides of Dracula but, beyond being mentioned in the film’s prologue, Dracula never makes an appearance. For that matter, there really aren’t any brides of Dracula either. There are three female vampires but none of them are turned into vampires by Dracula. Instead, the vampire in question is Baron Meinster (David Peel, who does a pretty good job in the role but who, needless to say, is no Christopher Lee).

Dracula does not return for The Brides of Dracula but his nemesis Prof. Van Helsing (Peter Cushing) does. Cushing was so well-cast as Van Helsing and brought such a sense of righteous fury to the role that his presence goes a long way towards making up for the absence of Christopher Lee. When you look at and listen to Cushing’s Van Helsing, you’re left with little doubt that this is a man who has dedicated his life to destroying vampires and that he’s quite good at it.

And it’s a good thing that Van Helsing shows up because, regardless of whether Dracula is directly involved or not, Transylvania has some issues. The Brides of Dracula opens with a French school teacher named Marianne (Yvonne Monlaur) finding herself stranded at an old castle. The owner of the castle — Baroness Meinster (Martita Hunt) — allows Marianne to spend the night but asks her to please refrain from releasing her son, Baron Meinster, from the chains that hold him prisoner. Naturally, Marianne does exactly the opposite. She steals a key and sets the Baron free.

Of course, the Baron is a vampire and soon he’s feeding on the inhabitants of a nearby village. The Baron has also decided that Marianne should be his bride. Will Prof. Van Helsing be able to save Marianne’s soul and defeat a second vampire? You’ll have to watch the movie to find out!

And you certainly should. Once you get over the fact that Brides of Dracula does not feature Lee’s iconic Dracula, the film itself is surprisingly entertaining, filled with all of the gothic touches, creepy scenery, evil villains, bloody throats, and heaving cleavage that you would expect from a Hammer film. Peel, Hunt, and Monlaur are all well-cast and best of all, Peter Cushing is Dr. Van Helsing!

In short, it’s not bad for a Dracula film that doesn’t actually feature Dracula.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4bNmNniIDsk

For today’s final entry in our series of Back to School reviews, let’s close out the 60s by taking a look at a 1968 British film. Directed by Lindsay Anderson, if… not only won the Grand Prix du Festival International du Film (now known as the Palme d’Or) at the 1969 Cannes Film Festival but it also featured the film debut of future icon Malcolm McDowell.

if… takes place at a British public school (or, as we would call it here in the States, a private school) that is mired in a long tradition of conformity and oppression. For roughly the first half of the film, we see how the school works. The teachers are stern and out-of-touch. The headmaster (Peter Jeffrey) considers himself to be something of a reformer and is clueless as to just how little respect the students have for him. Discipline is maintained by the Whips,sadistic upperclassmen who revel in their power and who spend most of their time speculating about which one of them will claim 13 year-old Bobby Phillips (Rupert Webster) as his own. Three students — Mick Travis (Malcolm McDowell), Johnny (David Wood), and Wallace (Richard Warwick) — are considered to be nonconformists and soon find themselves being targeted by both the school’s faculty and the Whips. During this first half, the film plays out as harsh but relatively realistic.

And then something happens.

About 45 minutes into the film, if… starts to grow increasingly more and more surreal. In a scene that plays out in languid, sensual slow motion, the otherwise dim-witted Wallace gracefully exercises on a high bar while an entranced Bobby Phillips watches. When Rowntree and his fellow whips decide to punish Mick, Johnny, and Wallace with a particularly brutal caning, the disturbing sound of it echoes throughout the entire school. During a war game, Mick fires an automatic rifle full of blanks at the chaplain and is subsequently forced to apologize while the chaplain sits up in a drawer kept in the headmaster’s office. Mrs. Kemp, the wife of the housemaster, wanders naked through the dormitory. Perhaps most famously, the film goes from randomly being in color to black-and-white and then back again, all adding to the movie’s dreamlike feel.

Perhaps most importantly, Johnny and Mick manage to sneak off campus and spend a day roaming around the city. After they steal a motorcycle from a showroom, they stop at a cafe where they are served coffee by a character known only as the Girl (Christine Noonan). The Girl tells Mick that sometimes she’s a tiger and soon, they are wrestling naked on the floor while Johnny sits in a corner booth and drinks his coffee. Later, when Mick returns to the school, he looks through a telescope and sees the Girl staring back at him and waving.

And finally, the Girl shows up while Mick, Johnny, Wallace, and Bobby are cleaning out a storeroom as a part of their punishment for scaring the chaplain. Among the dusty shelves, they find not only a jar containing a fetus but a cache of weapons as well. This leads to the film’s famous conclusion, a shocking act of violence that, in the 60s, was probably viewed as a show of solidarity with rebellious youth everywhere but, when seen in this time and age, draws disturbing parallels with the American tradition of school shootings.

Seen today, if… remains a surprisingly potent celebration of rebellion and a harsh condemnation of conformist society. Occasionally pretentious in that wonderful way that only a British film made in 1968 could be, if… is also a surprisingly stinging satire that doesn’t leave anyone — even the film’s heroes — untouched. Perhaps best of all, if… is also the film debut of Malcolm McDowell and he gives a strong performance here. It’s easy to understand why, after seeing if…, Stanley Kubrick cast McDowell in A Clockwork Orange. Interestingly enough, despite if’s apocalyptic ending, McDowell would play Mick Travis twice more, in Anderson’s O Lucky Man, a film that is even more surreal than if…, and in Britannia Hospital.

Tomorrow, we’ll continue our journey back to school by taking a trip to the 70s!