1979; Rated PG; 107 Minutes
Klaus Kinski: Count Dracula
Isabelle Adjani: Lucy Harker
Bruno Ganz: Jonathan Harker
Roland Topor: Renfield
Walter Ladengast: Dr. Van Helsing
Werner Herzog and Walter Saxer; Directed and screenwritten
by Werner Herzog; based on the novel "Dracula" by
by DAVID KEYES
German director Werner Herzog is not one of those conventional
moviemakers who uses typical devices and stories in his
movies. He is a man of raw vision and power, who emphasizes
Germanic expressionism, just as much as he embodies the
spirit of moviemaking. There are variations of foreign directors,
but none quite like him. As captivating as some are, like
Ingmar Bergman, Herzog remains the translucent master of
the foreign cinema. His movies are evocative and surreal,
using texture upon texture of brilliant imagery, backed
by music as haunting as it is beautiful. One might even
say that he is the seventh wonder of filmmaking.
the movie, "Aguirre, The Wrath Of God," for example. The
making of that picture is a legend all on its own; years
after its release, the actor Klaus Kinski shared his accounts
of the production, describing it as something of a depressing
experience. Herzog forced his cast and crew into the deep
jungles of South America, where anything from death to starvation
was distinctly probable. There were even various bizarre
rumors surrounding Herzog, notably in which he held a gun
up to Kinski's head and forced him to stay in the production.
He is sometimes so obsessed with the translucence of his
movies that he will stop at nothing to ensure perfection,
no matter where the location or what the situation. If he
were making a movie about the holocaust, he'd probably want
to jump back into time and have the cameras roll just as
the Jews were being moved into concentration camps.
what he, and others, call the 'voodoo of the location.'
That belief is also in direct effect of another one of his
best movies, "Nosferatu The Vampyre," which is also one
of his most seldom-seen. Recently, however, the film was
finally released to video in the United States, hopefully
for earning the attention that it deserves but never got
while in US theaters back in 1979. To describe the movie
in words is almost impossible, because what we have here
is a work of seductive imagery and compelling storytelling,
without being boring or clichéd. Herzog modifies the old
Dracula legend at his own free will, and yet that is okay,
because he imagines the story for what it is not, instead
of what it already is. He, like the director F.W. Murnau,
makes us believe in vampires through the nourishing visionary
treatment presented, ever so often adding in new twists
and turns to give the picture a feeling of remarkable uniqueness.
Murnau's 1922 "Nosferatu," is, naturally, a much better
film, but both are equally fascinating and eerie. The 1979
version renews a faith in the originality of vampire movies,
for us and for the filmmakers. It's as if Herzog had seen
Dracula and wanted to share his traumatic experiences.
movie also bears close resemblance to the silent version,
which is odd, since Herzog likes to create his own unparalleled
look in movies. Dracula's fangs instead of where they should
be, off to the side. He is lonely and depressed, longing
to be human, and seeking a plan to carry out that urge.
Kinski, like in "Aguirre The Wrath Of God," plays a man
whose personality is developed by his facial expressions
rather than his dialogue. His stares into the eyes of others
tell us that he is indeed sad and melancholy, and that he
wishes to be more than what he really is. In ways, he looks
like an offspring of the original Nosferatu vampire, and
not just in the face. Kinski's voice is distinctively moody,
just like his character. This is the way we would imagine
Dracula to sound if the 1922 version weren't silent.
is known, however, on how these movies came to be. The original
"Nosferatu," based on "Dracula" by the brilliant Bram Stoker,
was reportedly made without consent of adapting the famous
story. The title was later changed to "Nosferatu" to avoid
potential conflicts with the novel's publishing laws. Instead
of using the clichés of today's Dracula story, Herzog uses
Murnau's scenario to study the depths of evil and fear;
it's a decision that makes the movie all the more profound.
only problem is the ending. At the heart of the climax,
when Dracula is exposed to the sun and collapses dead in
Lucy's bedroom, we see that downstairs, Jonathan Harker
remains in his vampiric state, as if the legend was not
totally accurate when it said that all vampires revert to
humans once the head vampire is killed. We hear (offscreen)
Dr. Van Helsing finishing the job on Dracula (naturally,
with a wooden stake), and then the pale Jonathan crosses
over a circle of garlic after a made sweeps it away, and
announces that he must leave. Then he rides off into the
dry desert, his cloak blowing in the wind as the hair on
the horse does.
does all of this mean, anyway? Is Harker now the head vampire?
Where does he go? Why does he leave? None of those questions
are answered, even though they should be.
I must not sidetrack myself from praising its numerous virtues.
It is hypnotic, evocative, scary, and well photographed
by Herzog's cinematographers. During the opening shot, we
see rows of bones from the bodies of the dead, stacked up
along the wall like they had been nailed to it. The soundtrack
is distinctively eerie, as if a moody choir had been walking
through the halls at the same time the camera did, expressing
their emotions through the music. Here, like Herzog's own
filmmaking, the movie challenges us with images and emotions
that have hardly ever been seen before.
1999, David Keyes, Cinemaphile.org.
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