Accompanied by some of the most misleading promotional material ever (just how did they get away with using images of Karloff and Chaney Jr in Jack Pierce's classic make-up to advertise this?), Jess Franco brings us an apparent tribute to those old Universal films.
In this, Doctor Seward (Alberto Dalbes) is so incensed by Dracula (a wide-eyed and impressive Howard Vernon) and his killings that he travels to the Count's castle, opens his coffin and taps a twig-like stake into the old boy's heart, reverting him to a dead bat. Quite why this simple act hadn't been carried out earlier in Dracula's reign of terror is a mystery.
The first dialogue in this film is 15 minutes in, when a gaggle of gypsies notice the arrival of Doctor Frankenstein as he heads towards Dracula's castle. Dennis Price plays the doctor, and we first see him struggling to get out of his shiny black car as Morpho (Luis Barboo) brings into the castle a suspiciously large crate. In 1948, Price had been voted tenth most popular actor by the UK box office; by this stage of his life, 'excessive living and inadequate gambling' had left him alcoholic, bankrupt and ill. Unlike this film's sequel, 'The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein' (in which Frankenstein spends much of the running time bed-bound), Franco's direction here makes no secret of Price's difficulty walking, and as such, Frankenstein is a frail, somewhat bloated figure. An excellent actor, Price's very few lines were dubbed for this.
Our first glimpse of Fernando Bilbao's Monster, after a series of mis-matched jump-shots, is in unforgiving close-up. Permanent marker seems to have provided the drawn-on scars, which seriously lets down the otherwise impressive performance Fernando gives. Franco's camera chases after the actors often failing to keep track of the intended action. Unlike many of his films, there is little in the way of location or the usual sumptuous scenery, and the drab and tatty sets here help to create an enclosed, poverty-stricken environment.
The lines that are spoken are usually given in voice-over, an artistic decision probably to ease the process of dubbing for any overseas sales. This approach, and the disembodied voices give the whole production a ghostly effect.
This is a slow maze of a film smothered with Franco's trademark zooming camera, punctuated with a handful of screaming young women (Anne Libert, who is killed off immediately, makes a bigger impression in 'Rites', and Britt Nichols as a female vampire who, despite making no attempt to hide herself, no-one ever notices!), fabulously rubbery bats and for no readily apparent reason features a cameo by a curly-haired wolf man, who is brought in to fight the monster, get battered, and disappear! So, why do I enjoy this? I'm not sure, but possibly, it is because it reminds me in parts, of the work of French Director Jean Rollin, with whom Franco's work is often – and undeservedly, in my view – compared. At least here, the comparison is occasionally justified.
In this, Doctor Seward (Alberto Dalbes) is so incensed by Dracula (a wide-eyed and impressive Howard Vernon) and his killings that he travels to the Count's castle, opens his coffin and taps a twig-like stake into the old boy's heart, reverting him to a dead bat. Quite why this simple act hadn't been carried out earlier in Dracula's reign of terror is a mystery.
The first dialogue in this film is 15 minutes in, when a gaggle of gypsies notice the arrival of Doctor Frankenstein as he heads towards Dracula's castle. Dennis Price plays the doctor, and we first see him struggling to get out of his shiny black car as Morpho (Luis Barboo) brings into the castle a suspiciously large crate. In 1948, Price had been voted tenth most popular actor by the UK box office; by this stage of his life, 'excessive living and inadequate gambling' had left him alcoholic, bankrupt and ill. Unlike this film's sequel, 'The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein' (in which Frankenstein spends much of the running time bed-bound), Franco's direction here makes no secret of Price's difficulty walking, and as such, Frankenstein is a frail, somewhat bloated figure. An excellent actor, Price's very few lines were dubbed for this.
Our first glimpse of Fernando Bilbao's Monster, after a series of mis-matched jump-shots, is in unforgiving close-up. Permanent marker seems to have provided the drawn-on scars, which seriously lets down the otherwise impressive performance Fernando gives. Franco's camera chases after the actors often failing to keep track of the intended action. Unlike many of his films, there is little in the way of location or the usual sumptuous scenery, and the drab and tatty sets here help to create an enclosed, poverty-stricken environment.
The lines that are spoken are usually given in voice-over, an artistic decision probably to ease the process of dubbing for any overseas sales. This approach, and the disembodied voices give the whole production a ghostly effect.
This is a slow maze of a film smothered with Franco's trademark zooming camera, punctuated with a handful of screaming young women (Anne Libert, who is killed off immediately, makes a bigger impression in 'Rites', and Britt Nichols as a female vampire who, despite making no attempt to hide herself, no-one ever notices!), fabulously rubbery bats and for no readily apparent reason features a cameo by a curly-haired wolf man, who is brought in to fight the monster, get battered, and disappear! So, why do I enjoy this? I'm not sure, but possibly, it is because it reminds me in parts, of the work of French Director Jean Rollin, with whom Franco's work is often – and undeservedly, in my view – compared. At least here, the comparison is occasionally justified.