The Count Reviews :
Nosferatu (1922) and Vampyr (1932)
Nosferatu (1922) and Vampyr (1932)
by Paulette Reynolds
October 20, 2015
As the graveyard dust settles on Halloween, Cine received a phone call from an old fiend - er, friend - Bela Lugosi.
"Well! It's about time," Ms. Mata sniffed. "Follow up for me, Paulette, will you? I've got a Halloween after-party to attend --" And off she went, in a cloud of hairspray and glitter, unaware that the shelf life of her party invite had long expired.
Bela Lugosi! I pondered the importance of this interview, asking myself - was I up to doing the man justice? After all, this was the definitive Dracula, the film icon who described himself as, "Never has a role so influenced and dominated an actor's role as that of Dracula. He [Dracula] has, at times, infused me with prosperity and, at other times, he has drained me of everything."
It was nearly midnight as I arrived at the designated meeting place, Hollywood Rest Haven Cemetery. "I feel like a million dollars!" Mr. Lugosi gloated, as he approached me. I couldn't help but notice he wasn't wearing his trademark cape. "Oh, that old thing! I left that back at the coffin," did I detect a slight shudder of disgust? It was common knowledge that although he was buried in it (at his family's insistence), he saw it as just another symbol of the Typecast Hell that he was forever consigned to dwell.
"Might I ask you a few questions about --"
Looking like a debonair man about town, Bela gestured impatiently with his imported cigar. He would have none of my "business-as-usual" queries into his roller-coaster career, as he furiously snorted on about two earlier vampire film classics, Nosferatu (1922) and Vampyr (1932).
"I am Dracula! Who dares to compare my cinematic triumph with such tepid film fare?"
Granted there have been many Dracula's since Nosferatu exploded onto the silver screen: Frank Langella (Dracula, 1979), Gary Oldman (Bram Stoker's Dracula, 1992), and even the lovable George Hamilton (Love at First Bite, 1979). But Mr. Bela Lugosi *was* - and still remains - the only Dracula that is exalted annually among an ever-growing cult of fans.
The two minor masterpieces have much in common: both were released in Germany, were shot in somber tones of black-and-white, and are devoid of any Gothic sexual romanticism or sexuality that is a staple of more current versions. However, what truly unites these two horror treasures is the Existentialist dread of death, for Nosferatu and Vampyr terrify us as their modern cousins fail to do. Don't get me wrong, by the time Bela came on the silver screen, American audiences were only too ready to be captivated by our caped Count - and for exactly the same reason. Yet the fear of Universal's Dracula had been sanitized for us, too.
Nosferatu's plot became a template for future Hollywood productions: The undead Count feeds on hapless victims as he makes his way across the sea, destroying a land agent's family (Hutter and his sweet wife, Ellen) and their happy future. There is a professor, but his main role here is to warn of the blood-lust that lies ahead for Hutter's family and community, not as the Undead Crime Fighter. The screen is littered with Christian iconography and a book that reveals for us just what - and who - Nosferatu really is.
Our first encounter with the undead Count is built on several decades of anti-Semitic hatred, that found a willing audience in pre-Hitler's Germany. According to Alex Karambelas in his college thesis, *Noferatu and the Figure of the Jew in the Weimar Republic, "The figure of the vampire, which represented that which is sinister and parasitic, provided a ready allegory for the anti-Semite’s notion of ‘the Jew’. The vampire was the embodiment of everything foreign, corrosive, and frightening. In this way, the figure of Nosferatu serves as something of a mirror for the fears and anxieties of Weimar society."
What is striking - and more unsettling than the plot - is the figure of Nosferatu: His features are aggressively anti-Semitic, and his desire for blood reflects the early stereotyping of the Jew as a blood-sucking fiend of children and young people. The ship carrying the Count and the ensuing plague that strikes the city only echo the German's fears of Jewish immigration. Ellen reads a passage from the book on vampire lore that only a "woman without sin" will save the town by sacrificing herself as the sun rises (a fitting metaphor for the awakening from sleep). She unwilling offers herself and dies, leaving Nosferatu to disappear in a puff of smoke and her husband and the professor standing mute and helpless. There are no wooden stakes, the crosses are not utilized as weapons against the evil Count, and the final message is clear - no one is safe - especially German womanhood, from the Undead. What a rallying cry for the racism and genocide to follow.
It's interesting to note that just how subtle ideology can be, even to the artist and his creative process. Producer and production designer, Albin Grau, got the idea for a film about a vampire, who just happens to look like a crazed and half-starved rodent, during his service in WWI. Two of the most prominent ideas at that time were the twin concepts that Jews were akin to vermin and that no German woman was safe from racial contamination that would be brought about by Jewish intermixing. The political atmosphere that permeates the film makes it difficult at times to watch Nosferatu.
As I pondered this, Bela's voice boomed out, "Please! Enough of this whining about propaganda! What film is not pushing some idea or another? It is women who love horror. Gloat over it. Feed on it. Are nourished by it. Shudder and cling and cry out-and come back for more. And thank God for it - I'll be truthful. The weekly paycheck was the most important thing to me."
Happy to turn away from such a sour subject, I queried if it was true that he often slept in a coffin. "Never! How could I get any of my former wives to share one with me, after all? And the expense of five double coffins!"
With visions of Bela and his crowded coffins dancing in my head, I wondered how he felt about Vampyr, which came out a year after his debut as Count Dracula. "Ah, Vampyr - a comical little film! How anyone can take such experimentation seriously is truly a mystery!"
I refrained from sharing with Mr. Lugosi that Carly Dryer's classic was anything but comical, and in fact, is my favorite of the three cinematic versions. Less known than either Nosferatu or Dracula, Vampyr was based on a short novella entitled Carmilla, by Sheridan Le Fanu, published in 1872. The original inspiration for Bram Stoker's Dracula (1897), Carmilla told a tale of a stunning female vampire who turned her attentions towards young and pretty females. The film version renamed its undead Queen of the Night as ‘Marguerite Chopin’, and made her look like an aging and antiseptic cleric.
Vampyr's differences don't stop there - the washed out sepia-grey tints and hazy photography render it almost dream-like. The story centers on a "student of the supernatural", Allan Gray, who barely speaks (it was Julian West’s first - and only role), but wanders from one fantastic scene to another in the village of Courtempierre. Shadows, skeletons, and a man with a scythe compete for his attention, in what appears to be a parallel universe of mystery and madness. He comes upon an old manor house, where the wounded Leone fights for her life, after a brutal attack by an unknown animal. Her father is killed and leaves a book to instruct Allan on the devilish pursuits of vampires. He meets her sister, Gisele, and as their friendship deepens, he attempts to save her family from the control of Marguerite.
With sparse dialogue and poorly lit night scenes, Vampyr nonetheless manages to fascinate us as Allan enters a dream state to locate Marguerite as Leone's life ebbs away and Gisele is held captive. Scenes of tension-building action and bizarre imagery make this an unforgettable addition to any horror film fan's library. And yes - there is a happy ending.
Daylight speckled across my notebook, as Bela hastened to make a grand departure. “Let me leave you now with this final thought - Every producer in Hollywood had set me down as a type. I was both amused and disappointed. I'd like to quit the supernatural roles and play just an interesting, down-to-earth person.”
As I watched the great man dissolve into the daylight, it became clear to me that Mr. Bela Lugosi could never be ordinary by anyone’s standards. As he so often intoned for anyone who cared, "I am Dracula!"
IMDb
Wikipedia
Karambelas, Alex (2010) Nosferatu and the Figure of 'The Jew' in the Weimar Republic. Tufts University, Massachusetts. excollege.tufts.edu
http://www.excollege.tufts.edu/documents/stuWork2010FallKarambelas.pdf
October 20, 2015
As the graveyard dust settles on Halloween, Cine received a phone call from an old fiend - er, friend - Bela Lugosi.
"Well! It's about time," Ms. Mata sniffed. "Follow up for me, Paulette, will you? I've got a Halloween after-party to attend --" And off she went, in a cloud of hairspray and glitter, unaware that the shelf life of her party invite had long expired.
Bela Lugosi! I pondered the importance of this interview, asking myself - was I up to doing the man justice? After all, this was the definitive Dracula, the film icon who described himself as, "Never has a role so influenced and dominated an actor's role as that of Dracula. He [Dracula] has, at times, infused me with prosperity and, at other times, he has drained me of everything."
It was nearly midnight as I arrived at the designated meeting place, Hollywood Rest Haven Cemetery. "I feel like a million dollars!" Mr. Lugosi gloated, as he approached me. I couldn't help but notice he wasn't wearing his trademark cape. "Oh, that old thing! I left that back at the coffin," did I detect a slight shudder of disgust? It was common knowledge that although he was buried in it (at his family's insistence), he saw it as just another symbol of the Typecast Hell that he was forever consigned to dwell.
"Might I ask you a few questions about --"
Looking like a debonair man about town, Bela gestured impatiently with his imported cigar. He would have none of my "business-as-usual" queries into his roller-coaster career, as he furiously snorted on about two earlier vampire film classics, Nosferatu (1922) and Vampyr (1932).
"I am Dracula! Who dares to compare my cinematic triumph with such tepid film fare?"
Granted there have been many Dracula's since Nosferatu exploded onto the silver screen: Frank Langella (Dracula, 1979), Gary Oldman (Bram Stoker's Dracula, 1992), and even the lovable George Hamilton (Love at First Bite, 1979). But Mr. Bela Lugosi *was* - and still remains - the only Dracula that is exalted annually among an ever-growing cult of fans.
The two minor masterpieces have much in common: both were released in Germany, were shot in somber tones of black-and-white, and are devoid of any Gothic sexual romanticism or sexuality that is a staple of more current versions. However, what truly unites these two horror treasures is the Existentialist dread of death, for Nosferatu and Vampyr terrify us as their modern cousins fail to do. Don't get me wrong, by the time Bela came on the silver screen, American audiences were only too ready to be captivated by our caped Count - and for exactly the same reason. Yet the fear of Universal's Dracula had been sanitized for us, too.
Nosferatu's plot became a template for future Hollywood productions: The undead Count feeds on hapless victims as he makes his way across the sea, destroying a land agent's family (Hutter and his sweet wife, Ellen) and their happy future. There is a professor, but his main role here is to warn of the blood-lust that lies ahead for Hutter's family and community, not as the Undead Crime Fighter. The screen is littered with Christian iconography and a book that reveals for us just what - and who - Nosferatu really is.
Our first encounter with the undead Count is built on several decades of anti-Semitic hatred, that found a willing audience in pre-Hitler's Germany. According to Alex Karambelas in his college thesis, *Noferatu and the Figure of the Jew in the Weimar Republic, "The figure of the vampire, which represented that which is sinister and parasitic, provided a ready allegory for the anti-Semite’s notion of ‘the Jew’. The vampire was the embodiment of everything foreign, corrosive, and frightening. In this way, the figure of Nosferatu serves as something of a mirror for the fears and anxieties of Weimar society."
What is striking - and more unsettling than the plot - is the figure of Nosferatu: His features are aggressively anti-Semitic, and his desire for blood reflects the early stereotyping of the Jew as a blood-sucking fiend of children and young people. The ship carrying the Count and the ensuing plague that strikes the city only echo the German's fears of Jewish immigration. Ellen reads a passage from the book on vampire lore that only a "woman without sin" will save the town by sacrificing herself as the sun rises (a fitting metaphor for the awakening from sleep). She unwilling offers herself and dies, leaving Nosferatu to disappear in a puff of smoke and her husband and the professor standing mute and helpless. There are no wooden stakes, the crosses are not utilized as weapons against the evil Count, and the final message is clear - no one is safe - especially German womanhood, from the Undead. What a rallying cry for the racism and genocide to follow.
It's interesting to note that just how subtle ideology can be, even to the artist and his creative process. Producer and production designer, Albin Grau, got the idea for a film about a vampire, who just happens to look like a crazed and half-starved rodent, during his service in WWI. Two of the most prominent ideas at that time were the twin concepts that Jews were akin to vermin and that no German woman was safe from racial contamination that would be brought about by Jewish intermixing. The political atmosphere that permeates the film makes it difficult at times to watch Nosferatu.
As I pondered this, Bela's voice boomed out, "Please! Enough of this whining about propaganda! What film is not pushing some idea or another? It is women who love horror. Gloat over it. Feed on it. Are nourished by it. Shudder and cling and cry out-and come back for more. And thank God for it - I'll be truthful. The weekly paycheck was the most important thing to me."
Happy to turn away from such a sour subject, I queried if it was true that he often slept in a coffin. "Never! How could I get any of my former wives to share one with me, after all? And the expense of five double coffins!"
With visions of Bela and his crowded coffins dancing in my head, I wondered how he felt about Vampyr, which came out a year after his debut as Count Dracula. "Ah, Vampyr - a comical little film! How anyone can take such experimentation seriously is truly a mystery!"
I refrained from sharing with Mr. Lugosi that Carly Dryer's classic was anything but comical, and in fact, is my favorite of the three cinematic versions. Less known than either Nosferatu or Dracula, Vampyr was based on a short novella entitled Carmilla, by Sheridan Le Fanu, published in 1872. The original inspiration for Bram Stoker's Dracula (1897), Carmilla told a tale of a stunning female vampire who turned her attentions towards young and pretty females. The film version renamed its undead Queen of the Night as ‘Marguerite Chopin’, and made her look like an aging and antiseptic cleric.
Vampyr's differences don't stop there - the washed out sepia-grey tints and hazy photography render it almost dream-like. The story centers on a "student of the supernatural", Allan Gray, who barely speaks (it was Julian West’s first - and only role), but wanders from one fantastic scene to another in the village of Courtempierre. Shadows, skeletons, and a man with a scythe compete for his attention, in what appears to be a parallel universe of mystery and madness. He comes upon an old manor house, where the wounded Leone fights for her life, after a brutal attack by an unknown animal. Her father is killed and leaves a book to instruct Allan on the devilish pursuits of vampires. He meets her sister, Gisele, and as their friendship deepens, he attempts to save her family from the control of Marguerite.
With sparse dialogue and poorly lit night scenes, Vampyr nonetheless manages to fascinate us as Allan enters a dream state to locate Marguerite as Leone's life ebbs away and Gisele is held captive. Scenes of tension-building action and bizarre imagery make this an unforgettable addition to any horror film fan's library. And yes - there is a happy ending.
Daylight speckled across my notebook, as Bela hastened to make a grand departure. “Let me leave you now with this final thought - Every producer in Hollywood had set me down as a type. I was both amused and disappointed. I'd like to quit the supernatural roles and play just an interesting, down-to-earth person.”
As I watched the great man dissolve into the daylight, it became clear to me that Mr. Bela Lugosi could never be ordinary by anyone’s standards. As he so often intoned for anyone who cared, "I am Dracula!"
IMDb
Wikipedia
Karambelas, Alex (2010) Nosferatu and the Figure of 'The Jew' in the Weimar Republic. Tufts University, Massachusetts. excollege.tufts.edu
http://www.excollege.tufts.edu/documents/stuWork2010FallKarambelas.pdf
by Paulette Reynolds
October 20, 2015
Nosferatu (1922) : silent
Directed by F. W. Murnau
Screenplay by Henrik Galeen : Based on Bram Stoker's Dracula
Starring Max Schreck, Gustav von Wangenheim, Greta Schröder
Alexander Granach, Ruth Landshoff, Wolfgang Heinz
and
Vampyr (1932)
German Version TCM
Directed by Carl Dryer
Screenplay by Christen Jul and Carl Theodor Dreyer
Based on In a Glass Darkly by Sheridan Le Fanu
Starring Starring Julian West, Maurice Schutz, Rena Mandel
Jan Hieronimko, Sybille Schmitz, Henriette Gerard
October 20, 2015
Nosferatu (1922) : silent
Directed by F. W. Murnau
Screenplay by Henrik Galeen : Based on Bram Stoker's Dracula
Starring Max Schreck, Gustav von Wangenheim, Greta Schröder
Alexander Granach, Ruth Landshoff, Wolfgang Heinz
and
Vampyr (1932)
German Version TCM
Directed by Carl Dryer
Screenplay by Christen Jul and Carl Theodor Dreyer
Based on In a Glass Darkly by Sheridan Le Fanu
Starring Starring Julian West, Maurice Schutz, Rena Mandel
Jan Hieronimko, Sybille Schmitz, Henriette Gerard
COPYRIGHT 2012/2016. Paulette Reynolds. All CineMata Movie Madness blog articles, reviews, faux interviews, commentary, and the Cine Mata character are under the sole ownership of Paulette Reynolds. All intellectual and creative rights reserved.
