The marvelous thing about this classic Universal version of Bram Stoker's novel is the fact that even though it's one of the least faithful or even indeed cohesive versions of the narrative, Bela Lugosi's performance towers above the film and indeed over all film Draculas to this day. It doesn't matter that Stoker's vampire was more of a hairy giant while Lugosi's interpretation is late 19th Century Continental. He brings more to mind the ruined "White Russian" princes who populated the hot spots of London and Paris in the early 20th Century than he does any kind of 15th Century Inquisition leftover. It matters not. Lugosi connects with the audience, with his intense eyes and bizarre mesmeric hand motions. His gravity is undeniable, and he's like a dark star twisting and attracting everything else in the movie around him -- much like Dracula himself.
Browning's direction is understandably derided, although his film would have benefited from a more extravagant production. The conclusion of the movie in particular seems rushed and inadequate. But it's grossly unfair for so many critics, professional and amateur alike, to claim that the film would be better off without him. Even more ridiculous are the claims that the film was directed by Karl Freund. I've seen most of Freund's directorial films and most of Browning's, and this is absolutely Browning's film and his cinematic vision, take it or leave it. The main positive Browning can be credited with, a sort of vestigial reminder of the great Lon Chaney with whom he had collaborated so many times in the past, is the sense of empathy for the outsider that imbues the film with real poignancy. Not for a moment do any of the "normal" characters like Jon Harker or Mina seem like real people; but Browning paradoxically manages to make Lugosi's vampire come alive, as well as Dwight Frye's amusingly disturbed Renfield. It's not right to credit Lugosi with the lion's share of the accolades, as so many do. Take a look at most of his later films, even his higher-budget collaboration with Benjamin Christiansen a year after this film. Lugosi only reached these heights again when, as in the popular "White Zombie", he imitated his performance for Browning. Not to mention that Browning's entire filmography, from the Chaney works like "Unholy Three" and "Unknown" through his subsequent work on the infamous "Freaks," is marked by the same kind of trenchant identification with the most extreme social outcasts imaginable. Browning's Dracula is another extension of the same idea -- Dracula's lust for blood is the only real emotion on display in the entire film, and it would be a giant mistake to assume that was accident or incompetence.
Only in the scenes with Renfield, however, does Browning's trademark dark humor really come into play. Otherwise the film is objectionably dry in tone. The weird atmosphere of the Transylvanian scenes is never equaled by the mausoleums of London which look like the cheap sets they are. What's really important though is the image that you're left with after the movie is over, and that's of Lugosi's magnificent performance.
Browning's direction is understandably derided, although his film would have benefited from a more extravagant production. The conclusion of the movie in particular seems rushed and inadequate. But it's grossly unfair for so many critics, professional and amateur alike, to claim that the film would be better off without him. Even more ridiculous are the claims that the film was directed by Karl Freund. I've seen most of Freund's directorial films and most of Browning's, and this is absolutely Browning's film and his cinematic vision, take it or leave it. The main positive Browning can be credited with, a sort of vestigial reminder of the great Lon Chaney with whom he had collaborated so many times in the past, is the sense of empathy for the outsider that imbues the film with real poignancy. Not for a moment do any of the "normal" characters like Jon Harker or Mina seem like real people; but Browning paradoxically manages to make Lugosi's vampire come alive, as well as Dwight Frye's amusingly disturbed Renfield. It's not right to credit Lugosi with the lion's share of the accolades, as so many do. Take a look at most of his later films, even his higher-budget collaboration with Benjamin Christiansen a year after this film. Lugosi only reached these heights again when, as in the popular "White Zombie", he imitated his performance for Browning. Not to mention that Browning's entire filmography, from the Chaney works like "Unholy Three" and "Unknown" through his subsequent work on the infamous "Freaks," is marked by the same kind of trenchant identification with the most extreme social outcasts imaginable. Browning's Dracula is another extension of the same idea -- Dracula's lust for blood is the only real emotion on display in the entire film, and it would be a giant mistake to assume that was accident or incompetence.
Only in the scenes with Renfield, however, does Browning's trademark dark humor really come into play. Otherwise the film is objectionably dry in tone. The weird atmosphere of the Transylvanian scenes is never equaled by the mausoleums of London which look like the cheap sets they are. What's really important though is the image that you're left with after the movie is over, and that's of Lugosi's magnificent performance.