Tuesday, October 3, 2023

Franchises: Universal's Dracula Series. Spanish Dracula (1931)

The advent of sound in the late 1920's was as much a cinematic and technological revolution as it was a source of unforeseen problems for the film industry, as they attempted to adjust to it. One had to do with the exportation of Hollywood films to other countries, a significant source of revenue. With silent films, it was easy, as you simply changed the intertitles to the appropriate language; sound, however, was a different matter. Either because dubbing wasn't something they'd yet figured out how to do well or because it was considered "cheating" (I've heard both reasons from various sources, so your guess as to the real answer is as good as mine), studios often developed simultaneous, foreign language versions of their major releases, using the same scripts, sets, and costumes as the domestic versions, but with actors who could speak the language playing the parts. Universal, deciding to focus on the Spanish markets, developed such a version of Dracula, along with many other of their major and upcoming releases of 1930. Shot at night after Tod Browning's cast and crew had wrapped for the day, the film was released in Cuba in March of 1931, just a month after the American version opened in the U.S. It was also screened in New York and Los Angeles during the following months but, while the American version was an enormous hit that basically saved Universal from bankruptcy, the Spanish version, by all accounts, did okay but was nothing spectacular. It also happened to be one of the last of these foreign language productions, before Hollywood made the switch to simple dubbing. After its theatrical run ended, it was all but forgotten and considered lost, along with all of the other films of this type. However, an incomplete print was discovered in a New Jersey warehouse in the 1970's, and then, a full print was discovered at Havana's Cinemateca de Cuba in the early 90's. It took some persuasion but Universal was able to convince them to allow their copy to be fully restored (albeit with the initial missing reel coming off as scratchy and worn) and finally, Spanish Dracula, as it's often called, became an official part of the Universal Horrors when it was released on video in 1992. Since then, it's been put on DVD and Blu-Ray, often as a bonus feature for the American version whenever it gets a single release.
 
I've known of it ever since I first saw the documentary, Universal Horror, on Turner Classic Movies that Halloween night in 1998. Though they talked about it fairly extensively, what I always remembered was the clip of Renfield meeting Dracula, with Renfield dodging a bat upon entering the castle (that especially struck me because one of the library books mentioned that in the story for the American version) and the camera tracking up the stairs to show Dracula standing in front of a huge spider web. Being only eleven at the time, I didn't really grasp its significance and thought little of it initially. For a while, it was something I knew existed, as I saw more clips and heard it mentioned in documentaries, but I wasn't until I was in high school that I realized it was not only a different film altogether but also that many considered it better than the Bela Lugosi version. Even though I wasn't the biggest fan of that movie, I was still taken aback by that opinion. Could that really be the case? I wouldn't find out for myself until I was eighteen and bought the Dracula Legacy box set in early 2006. 
 
What first struck me was the Spanish version's running time. I knew there were differences between it and the Lugosi version, but when I read it was 104 minutes long, half an hour longer, I knew for sure that this was going to be more than just a Spanish xerox. And when I finally did watch it, I was amazed at just how different it is. Although it follows the same story as the Lugosi version, many of the scenes are longer and shot differently, there are others that aren't in the English version at all, and, in some cases, the chronology of events is changed around, with some now occurring at the same time thanks to cross-cutting, rather than one after the other. And I do agree that it is superior to the Lugosi version in certain aspects. On the technical side, the direction is much more inspired and not nearly as flat, with better camerawork and editing that keep even the scenes that are still confined to the sets of the Seward household from feeling as static. The blocking and staging of some scenes is also simply better, and the film fills in plotholes and clarifies things that are left rather fuzzy in the American version. Significantly, to keep costs down, the filmmakers had access to Tod Browning's outtakes, including for shots not in the American version, and the less stringent cutting give us a clearer picture of what that version might've been had Browning been given more creative control. However, the Spanish version is itself far from perfect and is not completely superior to the American version. It's nowhere near as atmospheric or eerily photographed, many of the Spanish actors don't measure up to their English-speaking counterparts, which is especially true of Dracula himself, it inevitably falls into some of the same traps, and while it is interesting to see and hear what was deleted from the more familiar film, as it goes on, you do begin to feel the Spanish version's nearly two-hour running time.
 
(I go back and forth calling the other movie the American version, the Lugosi version, and the Browning version throughout this review. Sorry for the lack of consistency.)

Like the American version, Spanish Dracula credits Carl Laemmle Jr. as producer when, in fact, the man in charge was actually 27-year old Paul Kohner, an Austrian-born producer who'd first met Laemmle Sr. in 1920, when he was just 18. Starting out as an errand boy for Universal, Kohner had been the head of the studio's European production offices in Berlin,and had a hand in the production of a number of movies, including previous Universal Horrors like The Cat and the Canary and The Man Who Laughs. According to his wife, Lupita Tovar, the female lead of this film, it was Kohner who convinced Laemmle to produce the simultaneous Spanish versions of Universal's major films, but he may have had another incentive for producing Spanish Dracula. He'd been set to produce the Lugosi version, only to be pushed aside by Laemmle Jr. Perhaps irked by this, Kohner decided to watch Tod Browning's rushes, along with his chosen director, and see what could be improved upon. However, it often goes beyond simple improvement and into total one-upmanship, as well as seemingly being different for the sake of it. In any case, after Dracula, Kohner went on to produce more films for Universal before he left active production behind in the late 30's and formed his own talent agency. 

The man Kohner hired to direct the Spanish version was George Melford, who'd started out as a stage actor in the early 1900's, then made his directorial debut in 1911, co-directing a short film for Kalem Studios. He directed thirty more shorts for them, then joined Jesse L. Lasky's Feature Play Company to make feature films. He made well over 200 films during his lifetime, with one of the most famous being 1921's The Sheik, with the legendary Rudolph Valentino. Melford went to Universal in 1925 and made his first sound movie there in 1928. Dracula was one of several alternate Spanish-language films he directed in 1930, another of which was for Rupert Julian's lost film, The Cat Creeps. Amazingly, Melford neither spoke nor understood a word of Spanish, but was able to make filming work through an interpreter and, along with Kohner, would study what Tod Browning's crew had shot during the day and compose his own direction around it. According to Lupita Tovar in an introduction for the film on the DVD and Blu-Ray releases, Melford was a "very wonderful man" whom everyone called "Uncle George," and it's been noted that he was able to communicate with the cast and crew very well. In fact, going by what she said, production on the film was a much smoother and happier experience than the rather disorganized shoot Browning oversaw. After Dracula, Melford continued directing steadily up until 1937, when he co-directed Columbia Pictures' first serial, Jungle Menace. But even after his directing career ended, he continued acting, usually in small character roles. The last film he was involved with one of his most notable: he had a brief appearance in The Ten Commandments. Melford died of heart failure in 1961, at the age of 83.

What immediately puts the Spanish version a few notches below the American one is the cast. Some of these actors are actually quite good in their roles but, for one reason or another, I still prefer the original cast, especially when it comes to Dracula. Many feel that Carlos Villarias is absolutely awful as the Count but, while he's certainly no match for Bela Lugosi, that's for sure, I don't think he's all that bad. His Dracula's character is the same as Lugosi's: an undead fiend who moves from Transylvania to England for fresh blood, is completely evil to his core, and takes delight in his horrible deeds. The difference is the performance, as Villarias is much more manic, with crazed faces and broader movements, largely due to the more expressive Spanish acting style. That's where he comes up short, as his overdone, hammy, and rather silly facial expressions (such as a constant, crazed smile when he first meets Renfield and when he confronts Prof. Van Helsing, an exaggerated glare when he's trying to look monstrous, and bulging eyes when they're in close-up to emphasize his hypnotic powers) are not even close to being as effective as Lugosi's calm, neutral expressions and piercing eyes. That said, when you see him rise from his coffin, he pulls it off quite well, with a more subdued expression, and the film also fixes the plothole of Renfield not recognizing him as the coachman by having him wear a scarf over half of his face. The close-ups of him with the scarf may not be as effective as that creepy shot of Lugosi's uncovered face, but it makes more sense logically. Unlike Lugosi, you get a sense of when Villarias' Dracula feeds on Lucia, as he covers her with his cape before going for her throat. And when Dracula is being charming, Villarias does manage to match Lugosi, bringing an air of Spanish romanticism and exotic attraction with him, especially in how he greets women by gentlemanly kissing their hands. 
 
Here, the scene aboard the Vesta has a memorable moment where Dracula emerges from the ship's hold in front of the terrified sailors, while Renfield laughs maniacally as he watches. As much as I like the scene between the two of them in the hold in the American version, I have to admit that Villarias is pretty effective in that shot, and the scene itself is more impactful as a whole, aided by the shots of the sailors' frightened faces and the grainy, scratchy look to this part of the film. And while Lugosi merely knocked the cigarette box out of Van
Helsing's hands, Villarias takes his cane and smashes it (though, again, his facial expressions ruin what should've been a great moment). But where Lugosi's Dracula, again, comes out ahead is that he kills more people. In this film, Dracula's brides are the ones who bite Renfield, and the scene where he preys on the flower girl isn't here at all, meaning that Villarias' Dracula only kills Lucia and Renfield. But his worst moment, by far, is when, in their confrontation, he thinks he's managed to take control of Van Helsing and
commands him to put away his crucifix. He shields his eyes with his cape when Van Helsing takes it out but the good professor, able to resist Dracula's power, fools him into thinking he's done so and then puts the thing right in his face when he drops his cape. It's bad enough that Dracula was so arrogant as to just assume he had control over Van Helsing and that he did as he said when he wasn't looking, but when he sees the crucifix, Villarias lets out a really stale scream and runs away, 
whereas Lugosi quickly turns away with an angry snarl and runs out. Finally, the ultimate reason why Villarias pales in comparison to Lugosi is simply because, even at this early stage, Lugosi positively owned the role of Dracula. He'd already played the Count on the stage numerous times and perfected his portrayal for the movie, so even if Villarias' portrayal had been amazing, there still would've been no comparison. Either way, he was shit out of luck.
 
Villarias was given the same light-green greasepaint makeup that Jack Pierce came up with for Bela Lugosi but, in this case, he was able to apply it to the actor himself. He also wore a widow's peak toupee, though it's not as prominent as you might expect, and his wardrobe was also close to an exact replica of Lugosi's, albeit without the star pendent around his neck. While his Dracula never becomes a wolf, he does appear to pass through the large spiderweb, and he does indeed become a bat. Speaking of which, if you
laughed at the bat props in the Lugosi film, you'll fall out of your chair here. While they look good when you first see them, these bats are clearly hung from wires, have no wing movement, and tend to bang clumsily against the scenery, such as when Dracula flies through Lucia's window. Also like in the Lugosi film, Dracula has three brides, but while they use different takes of the brides from that version in the scene in the crypt, when they stalk Renfield, the women playing them are totally different (and a lot creepier, too). And while we're on the subject, for fairly distant shots of Dracula outside the Royal Albert Hall and when he's hanging around outside Lucia's home, they used alternate takes of Lugosi himself.

Like with the American version, the two romantic leads don't do much for me. As Eva Seward, Lupita Tovar is certainly very lovely, and I like how, when she talked about the movie in her later years, she seemed to have very fond memories of it, but, like her English counterpart, she really doesn't have much to do. In fact, I find her to be even blander and less memorable than Mina, and can't bring myself to care about her, mainly because we don't see when Dracula first feeds on her. Rather, we jump from one scene to her telling Juan Harker
about it, leading to the discovery of the bite marks on her neck. We do get a moment where she tells Juan about how she becomes frightened as night approaches, juxtaposed nicely with Dracula rising at Carfax Abbey, but it's not quite as impactful. Tovar's performance is fair enough, and when she falls under Dracula's influence late in the movie, she plays it as much more bubbly and lively when she claims to feel better, and is then rather ravenous when she attacks Harker. But, again, there's just not enough there for me to get into her. The same also goes for Harker (Barry Norton), who's just as bland and peripheral a character as David Manners was in the American version. I'd also say he kind of fares worse, as he's not as memorably antagonistic towards Prof. Van Helsing over what he feels he's doing to Eva. He does threaten to call the police if they don't allow him to take her away to London, but that's dropped immediately, and he doesn't admonish him for frightening Eva when he repels her with the crucifix. That said, his relationship with her does sometimes come off as a bit more playful, and he does help Van Helsing stake Lucia, but like in the American version, he plays no part in killing Dracula and truly saving Eva.
 
Like Lucy, Lucia (Carmen Guerrero) is shown to have an interest in the macabre, mentioning a morbid toast she says Carfax Abbey reminds her of, and admits to Eva that she finds Count Dracula fascinating. Also like in the American version, she becomes a vampire herself after Dracula drains her of blood and begins preying on children at night (the shot of her doing so is a distant, alternate take of Frances Dade from the American version). But the big difference here is that Van Helsing makes good on his promise to Eva to save Lucia's soul, as he and Juan stake her offscreen. And yet, even though her screentime is about the same as in the American version, Lucia, somehow, also comes off as less memorable to me. I don't how that could be but, there it is.

Like Dwight Frye, the Spanish Renfield (Pablo Alvarez Rubio) starts out as a pleasant, mild-mannered solicitor who, despite the warnings of the villagers, must continue on to Castle Dracula for business reasons. Not believing them when they warn him of vampires, Renfield, nevertheless, is creeped out by the eerie atmosphere of Borgo Pass, and feels even more uncomfortable when he meets the coachman who takes him on to the castle. Like with Frye, when he first arrives there and finds it ancient, rundown, and seemingly deserted, he's relieved when he meets Count Dracula, despite how odd he is. He's also unaware of the interest Dracula takes in his bleeding thumb after he cuts himself while slicing some bread, and that the crucifix he was given by the innkeeper's wife repels him. And after Dracula leaves him when they close the deal, Renfield feels the effects of the drugged wine he was given and opens the French window for some fresh air. This time, instead of fainting at the sight of a bat, he sees Dracula standing by a coffin in the yard. Once he's passed out, Dracula's brides, who entered the room behind him, feed on his blood.
 
It's in his madness where Rubo differs drastically from Frye. Whereas Frye was quite restrained, resorting to his wild eyes and creepy chuckle, Rubio is an absolutely crazed, wild-haired, cackling madman, letting loose with an uncontrollable laugh and insane gestures as he watches Dracula prey on the Vesta's crew and when he's discovered in the hold. When you next see him, in his room at the Seward Sanatorium, he's clutching onto the bars on his window, laughing and screaming at the top of his lungs, as Martin
tries to pull him away from the spiderweb whose occupant he plans to devour. When Martin admonishes him for it, Renfield says, "Tiny wretched flies! Who could be happy with them?... When nice plump spiders aren't available, perhaps." Seriously, the guy cannot be still. Other than the start of his interview with Dr. Seward and Prof. Van Helsing, which he momentarily interrupts in order to catch a fly (which he doesn't eat because they're watching him), he's just bouncing off the walls and chewing up the
scenery like nobody's business, making even Frye's most over-the-top moments look like subtle method acting. But like Frye, Rubio's Renfield proves to be rather complex, conflicted, and tortured. When he tries to warn Seward and Van Helsing to send him away for Eva's sake, he hears a wolf howl outside and, shaking with fear, gets down on the floor and grabs the arm of a chair, knowing that Dracula is nearby and possibly aware of what he was telling them. Later, after Van
Helsing learns that Dracula is the vampire, Renfield listens in on the Professor's attempt to explain it to Seward and Harker. Once he's found out (he gives himself away with that crazy laugh), he not only advises them to listen to Van Helsing, but goes to the professor, grabs onto him, and collapses to his knees, begging him to save his soul. Van Helsing agrees to save him, but when he asks him to tell him everything he knows, Renfield does a complete 180. He calls Van Helsing a fool, 
saying he has nothing to gain from telling him everything, as, "An intelligent madman would rather serve the one who can grant him life." He stops short of naming Dracula as his master, nonchalantly claiming to have never heard the name before (much calmer than how melodramatic Frye was in the playing of this moment, albeit with an overdone, suspicious gasp when the question is first put to him). And when Van Helsing accuses him of lying, he says he takes no offense, as madmen can't distinguish between fantasy and reality.

Here, given his reaction when Van Helsing brings it up, it's much clearer that Renfield's confidence that his soul will not be damned if he dies with innocent blood on his hands is not all that strong. Regardless, he continues refusing to tell them who his master is, especially when Dracula's bat form appears. Later, when Dracula appears beneath Renfield's cell window, he seems to go farther than telepathically tell him to do something he'd rather not. When Renfield refuses, Dracula appears to attack him, as he screams and breathes frantically,
begging him to stop. Shortly afterward, he's caught snooping around outside the Seward household again, though he claims to Van Helsing that his master is not angry with him and goes into his monologue about Dracula's promise to him. But, like in the American version, Renfield unknowingly leads Van Helsing and Harker to Carfax Abbey, and Dracula punishes him for what he thinks is a major betrayal. Renfield frantically insists that he's always been loyal and begs for his life, but Dracula grabs him and throws him over the side of the abbey's grand staircase. But, after he's staked Dracula, Van Helsing stays behind to keep his promise and save Renfield's soul after death.
 
Because of his over-the-top madness, Rubio's Renfield is quite entertaining to watch and is probably the best character in the Spanish version. But, as much as I enjoy him, I can't help but prefer Dwight Frye's more restrained performance. To me, Frye was not only creepier but also felt more like a real madman, whereas Rubio, be it due to the Spanish acting style or Paul Kohner's obsession with one-upping the American film, is more like a stereotypical caricature of a madman, especially for the time period. I know there are insane people who act like Rubio but Frye just seems much more genuine to me. Plus, he's the one I have a stronger connection with, since I've seen the Lugosi version many more times.
 
Prof. Van Helsing (Eduardo Arozamena) is the character who comes the closest to matching his American counterpart; in fact, in some ways, he's even more likable and commendable a character than the one Edward Van Sloan played. Again, he knows there's a vampire stalking London after examining a sample of Renfield's blood and travels from Switzerland to England with Seward in order to prove it. Little by little, he gains evidence of his theory, first when he interviews Renfield and witnesses his craving for insects, as well as how violent he becomes when he puts some wolfsbane in his face. Immediately after that is when he learns of the "nightmare" Eva says she had about being visited by something evil in her room and Seward discovers the bite marks on her neck. Then, Count Dracula pays a visit and Van Helsing sees how he's not casting a reflection in the cigarette box's mirror. Here, we get to see a more confident side of the professor than we did with Van Sloan. When he tricks Dracula into looking at and smashing the mirror, he slyly asks him to confirm an "amazing phenomenon," then opens it. Once Dracula has smashed the mirror and blown his cover, Van Helsing looks as though he's just barely holding in a confident smile. Later, when he confronts Dracula in the drawing room, he really stands up to him, letting him know that he intends to do whatever he can to stop him. And while it makes Dracula look like an idiot, when he attempts to overwhelm Van Helsing's mind and force him to put away his crucifix, the way the professor plays him by pretending to fall under his spell and doing as he commands, only to then repel him with the cross when he least expects it, is a nice moment for him.
 
Though Edward Van Sloan's Van Helsing was kind and understanding to those haunted by Dracula, Arozamena shows real empathy towards Eva when she tells him of her encounter with Lucia once she's become a vampire, clearly feeling her pain, and it also pains him to see Dracula's influence over her when she's about to attack Juan Harker. Thus, when he tells her, "I promise you that from this day on, Lucia will rest in peace. Her soul will be forever freed of that awful appetite," you can feel true earnestness in it. And like I said, this time
Van Helsing makes good on that promise, as he and Harker find Lucia's resting place and drive a stake through her heart, ending her torment. Similarly, when Renfield comes to him, asking him to save his soul, Van Helsing promises to do so and continually tries to sway him from Dracula's influence and get him to help them. And though he's unable to save him from being killed by Dracula, after he stakes the Count himself, Van Helsing stays behind to keep his promise to Renfield, saying a prayer over his body.

Dr. Seward (Jose Soriano Viosca) is pretty much the same as in the American version: a kind, charming father and authority figure who, initially, is incredulous about the existence of vampires but comes to trust what Van Helsing says when he realizes his own daughter is falling under Dracula's influence. Like before, there's little to say about him apart from that, although there's a minute detail in that he's the one who finds the bite marks on Eva's neck, as she was reluctant to let Van Helsing examine her. I don't care for this version of
Martin (Manuel Arbo), as he's nowhere near as funny as Charles Gerrard, instead coming across as grumpy and irritated with Renfield most of the time. Granted, it's more realistic, as I wouldn't be in the best of moods either if I had to work someplace where people are starting to believe in vampires and one patient in particular keeps escaping, but it's not as entertaining. However, while looking for Renfield yet again, Martin does have a fairly funny rant that he makes to Harker,
saying, "If there's a brave man after my job, he can have it. I'm going to look for work at another asylum where the crazy people are nice and reasonable. Let them think they're Napoleon or royalty. Something worthy of my time." And like in the American version, Carla Laemmle has a brief role in the opening as a woman reading from a brochure about the crumbling castles found in the area, only this time, she's in the back with Renfield rather than near the front (i.e., closer to the camera), and gets a bit more screentime at the inn. She even has a name this time: Sara. She's the only cast member from the Lugosi film, aside from John George, who plays a scientist in Van Helsing's introductory scene, to appear in the Spanish version with lines (George's one line in both films is the significant word, "Nosferatu,").

In my review of Tod Browning's Dracula, I mentioned how, despite the memorable moments of moving camerawork, there's no denying that the film is very still and, while it helps with the atmosphere and mood, it can come off as very static and flat, especially to a modern audience. Therein lies one of the major differences between it and the Spanish version: while Browning tended to shy away from moving the camera, George Melford took full advantage of it and used it to
make his film much more cinematic and lively, while still keeping the fairly dreamlike feel of Browning. The moment where Renfield first enters Castle Dracula and sees the Count standing in front of the huge spiderweb on the stairway is often used as a major example as to the Spanish version's technical superiority, but there are others. Some are rather simple, such as how, when Dracula shows Renfield to his room, the camera doesn't feel like it's a mile away from the characters, like in the
American version. And when he opens the French window for some air, Dracula's brides are revealed to be watching him in the background, rather than introduced in their own close-up as they enter the room. There are other camera movements and angles that were apparently meant to show off the size of the sets in the latter half of the film, proving that they're not as small and claustrophobic as you may have originally thought. One of the best examples is between Eva and Lucia when they talk about Dracula: this scene is done in one, long take,
with the camera starting on the girls' reflections in a mirror, then pulling back and back, as Eva says she's tired and leaves to go to bed, until the entire expanse of the room is in the shot. This wide angle of the set continues in the shot where Lucia goes to bed herself, prior to Dracula's visit. There are similar angles on that blasted drawing room at the Seward household, showing that both the interior and the exterior have a fair amount of scale to them.

Editing is also used more adeptly. The scene where Eva tells Van Helsing of her encounter with the now vampiric Lucia is done through some nice cutting between them as she talks, rather than the overlong and clumsily blocked shot on the terrace in the American version. Similarly, when Dracula speaks to Eva while flying above her and Harker in his bat form, the film cuts to a close-up of her as she responds to what he's saying, as opposed to it all playing out in one lone, wide shot. Speaking of
cutting, some of the major scenes in the third act, like Renfield telling Van Helsing and the others of Dracula's promise to him, Dracula beginning his corruption of Eva, Eva luring Harker out onto the terrace where she attempts to attack him, and Van Helsing and Dracula's confrontation, cross-cut back and forth between each other, rather than each one playing out after the other. For instance, while Renfield is talking, we see the nurse, Marta, putting wolfsbane around Eva's neck as she sleeps, but then, after a cutaway to Martin learning of
Renfield's latest escape, we see Dracula using his power to make Marta remove the wolfsbane so he can get at Eva. Moments later, his and Van Helsing's confrontation take place at the very moment Eva appears to have recovered and asks Harker to join her on the terrace. And when Van Helsing later sees Eva and Harker out on the terrace and realizes what Eva is about to do, instead of it happening offscreen, we see him run out there, get between them, and hold up a cross, which gets a close-up, in order to repel her.

That's another thing: we see a lot more here than we do in the Browning film. There, the nurse, Briggs, only vaguely remembers Dracula hypnotizing her, telling Harker, "I felt strangely dizzy," and Mina tells Harker how Dracula fused his blood with hers. Here, we actually see Dracula take control of Marta and we also see him approach Eva's bed to make her drink his blood. Similarly, in the Browning film, Martin comments how Renfield got out of his room by twisting his
bars; here, we see the twisted bars. Also, this time we actually see Dracula rise from his coffin. To get around the clumsy image of him climbing out of it, Melford uses a distant shot of the coffin opening by itself, and expelling some glowing mist, which Dracula appears to materialize out of (he's clearly just crouching down out of sight and slowly rising up with the smoke effect). And because Spanish censors weren't as strict, you do see the bite marks Dracula left on Lucia's neck, not to mention that
both she and Eva wear more revealing nightwear. Speaking of seeing more, as I've mentioned, plotholes from the Browning version are tied up. Besides Lucia getting staked, this time we get a resolution to the moment where Renfield crawls towards the fainted nurse in a predatory manner. It turns out there was a fly on her, which buzzes off before he's able to grab it, leading him to moan sadly. And during the finale, we see that the daylight does keep Dracula from fully corrupting Eva. Finally, one thing the Spanish version makes
clear is that, when Van Helsing is introduced examining Renfield's blood in a laboratory, he's in his home country of Switzerland and travels with Seward back to England. In the Browning film, Van Helsing's country of origin is never named, though Dracula alludes to it, and you would think that he's already at the Seward Sanatorium in his introduction, as they make no mention of where that is.

Some scenes and sequences are simply staged better than in the Browning version. Again, the sequence onboard the Vesta, where you see the sailors watch in terror as Dracula slowly emerges from the hold (which, like Renfield cutting himself with a knife rather than a staple, had to have been inspired by Nosferatu), while Renfield laughs maniacally from the other side of a porthole, is more effective than what you see in the other version, especially with the first shot of his hand

emerging from under the hatch. The same goes for the aforementioned scene between Eva and Van Helsing, as well as when Van Helsing stops her from attacking Harker. And unlike in the Browning version, Dracula is not made to look shorter than Seward when they meet each other at the Royal Albert Hall.

Because it was filmed on the same sets as the Tod Browning film, there's little here in terms of production design that you haven't already seen, although you do see much more of the drawing room and other parts of the Seward home, showing just how large and sprawling it is. Also, at Castle Dracula, when Renfield opens the window for some air, you get a shot of the exterior with Dracula standing by his coffin, itself next to some crates that are loaded up for the journey. And you
get a second angle on the gates where Lucy was seen wandering after having preyed on a child, revealing that it is, indeed, the cemetery where she was laid to rest. It's also where Van Helsing and Harker put an end to her with a stake. But what's most noteworthy is a section of Carfax Abbey with a large, Expressionistic staircase that wasn't seen in the Browning version at all. Speaking of the abbey, there are some establishing shots of it on a seaside cliff that are also not seen in the Browning version,
though they may be unused takes shot by Browning's crew. A fair amount of these alternate takes were used by George Melford and his crew, including the opening shot of the carriage, shots of the inn's interior and when the coach arrives at the village, shots of Dracula's brides in the crypt, as well as alternate footage of the possums (no armadillos in this version, though), the distant shots of Bela Lugosi, and the shot of the operating theater when Lucia's body is examined, among others. During Renfield's journey to Borgo Pass,

the coach passes by a strange sort of bonfire off to its left, an eerie shot left over from the Browning shoot. And here's something really interesting: the shots of the orchestra and the ballet performance in the Royal Albert Hall are stock footage taken from The Phantom of the Opera

For a while after I first watched Spanish Dracula, I did feel that it was better than the Lugosi version on all fronts. But, looking at it now, while it is definitely better in some ways, there are others where it comes up short. While the Spanish version may have better camerawork, editing, staging, and less plotholes, when it comes to mood and atmosphere, Tod Browning and Karl Freund most definitely have the upper hand. There are some well shot scenes here, to be sure, like the exteriors 
of the graveyard Lucia haunts, the scene where Dracula draws Eva out of the house to him, and Renfield sitting in his cell when Dracula visits him, but for the most part, cinematographer George Robinson, who would go on to shoot many other Universal horror films, including all the others with Dracula, couldn't quite capture the eerie, German Expressionism-inspired look and feel that Freund brought to the Browning film. You can compare just by watching the film itself, since some of 
Freund's unused work made it in. But aside from that, it's just not as creepy. There's still no incidental music score, aside from the opening credits and at the very end, but the mood that Browning created, with the sound of the howling wolves and the eerily silent shots of Dracula's bat form hovering just outside the bedroom windows, isn't here. You do hear the sound of wolves howling here and there, but they don't come off as spooky, and the often clumsily operated fake bats here truly inspire laughter. Plus, in the scene where
Renfield realizes Dracula is outside his window, instead of hearing him howl, we instead see the shadow of his bat form and hear him squeaking and his wings fluttering. Again, just not as creepy, and neither is Carlos Villarias. I already went into detail about how he's not a patch on Bela Lugosi, but even simple moments like him stalking around outside and the close-ups of his hypnotic eyes are nothing compared to those of Lugosi.

The Spanish version is also hurt by its much longer running time, due to Melford and company sticking completely to the original script, whereas Browning made a number of deletions. While it's cool to see the details that were excised from the American version, including a scene where Van Helsing tells Seward and Harker of Dracula's origins, and also that the film hammers out plot points that were left originally unresolved, this faithfulness does result in it really dragging at
points. For instance, at the Royal Albert Hall, we see Dracula hypnotize the woman showing him to the back and tell her exactly what to tell Dr. Seward; in the American version, we cut to Dracula right after he's given the instructions and then, before he introduces himself to Seward, we learn what they were when the woman delivers them. Later, when Van Helsing meets Renfield for the first time, we get a scene where he talks with him about his education at Oxford, followed by him catching a fly but letting it go when he sees
how Van Helsing is watching him. Interesting to see, yes, but ultimately unnecessary, which is why, in the American version, we cut to the other half of the scene, where Renfield asks to be sent away and becomes enraged when Van Helsing puts wolfsbane in his face. Dracula also has much more to say when Renfield first meets him at his castle, telling him when he says he thought he'd been brought to the wrong place, "The walls of my castle are cracked and there are shadows everywhere. But come in. Make yourself at home."

That's actually closer to what he says to Jonathan Harker when he arrives in the original Bram Stoker novel, but Lugosi simply saying, "I bid you welcome," is simpler and more effective. The same goes for his simple little comment about the spider and the fly, whereas here, he also says, "The eternal struggle for survival. Every living creature needs blood to keep on living."

Though the film does clear up things that the American version left murky, it also creates some issues of its own. While Van Helsing and Seward are interviewing Renfield, we get the new scene between Eva and Harker, where she tells him she's lately been feeling frightful over the onset of night. (This little moment fills in a bit of a plothole in and of itself, as in the American version, Harker mentions how Mina had said recently that she was afraid of the night, though we never actually heard
her say so.) For emphasis, we next see Dracula rise from his coffin at Carfax Abbey, followed by Eva and Harker going indoors. Then, after we get the rest of the scene with Renfield, we're into when Eva tells Harker of the "nightmare" she had, leading to the discovery of the bite marks on her neck. When questioned about the dream, she said she had it the night her father left for Switzerland to meet with Van Helsing. Unlike in the American version, we don't see Dracula appear in her room
and bite her, which was originally the intention of the script. (What we saw in the other film was actually meant to happen later on, as evidenced by the presence of that cardboard on the lamp, which was put up by the nurse so she can read while watching over Mina and not disturb her.) Some may feel that having her describe the encounter after we just saw it is redundant, as well as that her recalling it as a frightening nightmare, though apparently vague enough to where she doesn't realize it was Dracula, and letting it emphasize her
indiscernible fear of the night, helps make Dracula feel more like an ethereal, intangible force of evil that has entered these characters' lives. Had it been done better, I would agree, but the sequence of events here following Lucia's death hurts its effectiveness for me, and like I said, actually seeing Dracula begin his assault on her would help him me care more for Eva. Then, even if they had shown it, Carlos Villarias likely wouldn't have been able to be as scary as Bela Lugosi was in that scene.

Another issue has to do with Renfield himself. As mentioned, the scene where Dracula visits him outside his cell's window happens much later on, right before the last time he's discovered at the Seward household, when he tells Van Helsing and the others of the promise Dracula made to him. Because of the visit's place in the American version, it felt as though Renfield was talking about something that happened when he first became Dracula's slave, but here, he's obviously

talking about something that happened outside his cell window that we didn't see. Or, perhaps, it's what he likes to think happened as, despite his insistence that Dracula was pleased with him, that wasn't the case at all just a few minutes earlier. Moreover, remember that Dracula, after Renfield refused to take part in his plans for Eva, apparently attacked him in a way that had him screaming and hyperventilating, as opposed to creating a vision of thousands of rats that he promised to let him feed on. Not only do I not like the idea of this not being what Dracula promised to initially make Renfield his slave, but the idea that it was something he made up altogether especially takes away from its impact.

As much as the film does improve upon the American version, there are moments where the filmmakers' desire to outdo Browning and his crew comes off as petty and different simply for the sake of it. These are in the smaller details, such as opposite camera angles (in the Browning version, Renfield is filmed from the exact opposite direction when he tells the village porter not to take his luggage down from the coach, and when he looks out the window of Dracula's coach, he does
so from the right instead of the left, as Dwight Frye did in the American version,... which doesn't match up with the shot of him in the carriage and the shot of the bat hovering above the horses), additional sound effects, like when the coach's door creaks open, and other examples in the story, like the way in which Dracula smashes the cigarette box mirror, how you now see Renfield eavesdropping on conversations before the characters find him, and how Dracula actually carries Eva over to Carfax Abbey rather than leads her (when he confronts
Renfield on the staircase, he actually has to set her down, which is about as graceless as him climbing out of the coffin). Even the opening credits try to outdo those in the other movie, with the background being a candle with a spiderweb, as opposed to the symbol of a bat (and, I must admit, this is another instance where the Spanish version does win out). It's nitpicky to bring up, but when you watch both movies back to back with the knowledge that Paul Kohner was booted from producing the American version in favor of Carl Laemmle Jr., you can't help but pick up on it.

No matter how much more well-executed and lively it is in terms of camerawork, the Spanish version does inevitably fall into the same trap as the Lugosi version in that, during the second and third acts, you feel as though you're watching a stage play on film, right down to the blocking of the actors. It may not feel as static, nor as claustrophobic, but that doesn't change the fact that you're still stuck in the Seward household and that damn drawing room for a good chunk of the
movie. And the ending is still anticlimactic, with Dracula, again, getting into his coffin and leaving himself open to be staked. Moreover, our seeing why he doesn't finish turning Eva into a vampire, as some sunlight coming through a nearby window repels him, makes his final action even more idiotic, especially since, again, he could've hid in the dark and attacked Van Helsing and Harker when he got the chance. And in the American version, there's some suspense when Van Helsing and Harker come upon a pair of coffins in the
abbey's cellar. After opening one to find Dracula inside it, they assume that Mina is in the other one, but when Harker brings Van Helsing a metal rod to use to stake them, they discover that she isn't, meaning Dracula hasn't turned her yet. Here, the scene plays out the same but there's no suspense, since we know that Eva is still alive.

Like the Browning version, Spanish Dracula has little to no music score, save for the opening credits and the ending. Again, Swan Lake plays over the credits, and in the Royal Albert Hall, you once more hear Richard Wagner's Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg. The difference is you hear a lot more of it, as it plays throughout the entire scene, and the part originally heard in the Browning version sounds like it's starting up again as the scene ends. When I watched the movie on the DVD in the Legacy Collection, the opening of Schubert's Unfinished Symphony was played whenever Dracula rose from his coffin, but it seems as though that's been removed from the Blu-Ray releases. Similarly, I can remember the version of Swan Lake here as being grander and better orchestrated on DVD, but it seems like they've now replaced it with the version heard in the Browning film. And finally, at the end of the movie, as Eva and Harker leave the abbey, and Van Helsing prepares to save Renfield's soul, you do get some actual score and it's nowhere near as subtle as the distant bells heard at the ending of the Browning version. It tries to come off as poignant and joyous, but I think it's absolutely awful, as the bad audio quality makes listening to it unpleasant and also because it sounds really generic and typical of the period. No joke, it's actually the worst part of the movie for me. 

At the end of the day, I'm happy that Spanish Dracula exists, as it's a delight to watch, especially for film fans. David Skal described watching it as finding new rooms in an old, familiar house, and I think that's definitely the best way look at it. It's an expanded version of the movie we all know, with some well-done and even impressive camerawork and editing, more liveliness to many of the scenes, and some scenes that are simply better done. The story also clears up some of the Lugosi film's plotholes, it allows you to see some footage that Tod Browning didn't use, and some of the performances do compliment their English counterparts. However, most of the actors, especially Carlos Villerias, can't even hope to measure up, the film does sometimes drag due to its running time, it lacks the atmosphere and subtle eeriness that Browning and Karl Freund brought to their film, and it even has some of that movie's problems. Still, it's a real treat for fans of these classic horror films and I recommend checking it out at least once for a different perspective on a movie countless people have seen.

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