Hooptober... And Then There Were Nine

75th Kill

Two sides to this coin. Scars of Dracula, for me, is a Hammer Dracula film which comes close to greatness, and yet falls so far from it. (Cue Bono looking wistfully down from the top of the Berlin Victory Column).

On the one hand, we get one of the best tilts Christopher Lee ever had at the Dracula character. Bestial, depraved and extremely violent but also the smooth, suave master of his domain when he adopts that guise. This is probably the most brutal Dracula of the Hammer films, and yet also the one where Lee got the most actual lines of dialogue. Everything with him is A-plus, not to mention a fantastic support act from Patrick Troughton as his very nasty familiar, Klove, who nevertheless loses his heart to the lovely Jenny Hanley - and who wouldn't, I ask you?

On the other hand, the film seems absolutely determined to spin its wheels following the dreary escapades of Simon Carlson, played by Dennis Waterman. Now, I know Waterman can be good because I used to watch Minder on TV, but in this film he is downright insipid. No doubt this is partly how he was directed and how the character was written, but every scene with him in it is an unbearable drudge (despite how beautiful and charismatic Hanley is, who shares most of his scenes). I can't tell you how disappointing it is that his absolute horndog of a brother Paul didn't end up being the protagonist (which seems to be the case in the first fifteen minutes) because Christopher Matthews is so much better in this film.

So, it's a mixed bag in the end. Focus on the positives - this is definitely one of the better Lee Dracula performances, with loads of blood, lots of ridiculous bats, Dracula being resurrected by one of those bats spewing on him (honestly, one wonders why anyone is the least bit relieved when Dracula dies at the end of one of these movies because it's so easy to bring him back from the dead), much cleavage and oodles of Hammer gothic colour.

Best Kill (may contain traces of spoiler)

I like the scene where the priest gets killed. Roy Ward Baker goes for some handheld verite technique here in a desperate attempt to make it look horrifying and brutal. But he can't hide the fact that it's a scene in which a large man has a couple of bats fly around his head, applying some scratches to his face, an ordeal from which he eventually drops inexplicably dead. Maybe they are poisonous bats.