Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992, Francis Ford Coppola) (Patreon)

55/100

Second viewing, last seen during its original theatrical release. And it remains exactly what I considered it then: superlative old-school imagemaking bound to an epistolary novel that nobody—least of all the dude who wrote Hook—has ever really been able to make work onscreen. Count Dracula as a character, yes; the Harker/Mina/Lucy/Van Helsing story, not so much. Hart does contribute one potentially first-rate innovation, depicting Dracula as the literal undead form of his real-life inspiration, Vlad the Impaler; I quite like the idea that his (and by extension all vampires') fear of Christian iconography stems from having declared war on God in response to personal loss. Mina as the reincarnation of Vlad's wife, however, leads to rampant corniness that diminishes Coppola's formal nightmare fuel. It's hard to be chilled by a being that transforms into several dozen scurrying rats once you've heard him rasp "You''ll be cursed as I am to walk in the shadow of death for all eternity. I love you too much to condemn you." In the words of Count Floyd, "Ooo, scary!" [turns to the wings; speaks in normal voice] "Who booked this film?" It doesn't help that there's no internal logic whatsoever to this Dracula's shifting human/oid appearance—he's alternately a creepy old man, an elegant young proto-hipster, and more or less a flat-out demon, but if we assume the last to be his true form, the first doesn't make a whole lotta sense (except by way of being a compelling departure, from the viewer's perspective). At one point, right in the middle of his granny glasses phase, he reverts to the creepy old man while completely alone in what looks suspiciously like the "Wrapped Around Your Finger" video. Sure, he's heartbroken by Mina's departure, but why assume the intermediately repellent version? It's all very "whatever looks good."

Thankfully, the film frequently looks very good indeed. Coppola pulls out all the stops early on, when the ratio of spooky atmosphere to creaky narrative is most advantageous; despite not having seen it for nearly 30 years, I still vividly remembered e.g. Oldman's disembodied eyes superimposed onto a hellishly red sky outside the window of Harker's train. He has enormous fun with practical shadow tricks (though the synchronization is just slightly off in one shot, giving the game away; these days it'd be done digitally just to ensure perfection), and isn't afraid to go for outré transitions, my favorite of which is the focus pull to peacock feathers that suddenly furl into frame, followed by a dissolve from the eye of one feather to a tunnel from which Harker's train emerges. (Lucy's bite punctures dissolving to wolf eyes is also pretty choice.) Cinematography, costume design, art direction, special effects—in every respect that's purely and ostentatiously visual, this is thrilling to behold. It's when Coppola is forced to settle down and try to convey the broad strokes of Stoker's novel that a certain lethargy sets in. Apart from the Impaler/reincarnated Mina business, Hart's screenplay is quite faithful to the book, and that's the problem: Stuff like Harker being trapped with the brides while Dracula travels to England simply doesn't play in a cinematic context, because we're not reading various people's correspondence—Harker's the apparent protagonist, and he just kinda disappears for a good long while, minus the shock transfer that we get in, say, Psycho. All Dracula adaptations must either wrestle with this (and inevitably lose) or ditch the book. This one kinda tries to have it both ways, but it's called Bram Stoker's Dracula for a reason. All Coppola can do is pop your eyes out of your skull at the outset and then struggle to keep them there. 

(I've ignored the performances, haven't I? Still think Oldman's a big ol' ham—see my review of The Professional—but obviously that's what you want for the Count. Hopkins is having a blast, demonstrates ace comic timing in unexpected spots. Ryder's stuck with a dullard; Frost leans into caricature. Out of respect for what Keanu Reeves has since achieved, I will maintain a polite silence about his presence in this film.)