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It's been a while since I've seen or commented on "Taste the Blood of Dracula," but there was a time I ran that video often. I think it was brilliant in many respects -- from the well-played parents of Alice to the pathos of Secker; from the imaginative snow-globe scene in the carriage to the inventiveness of the secret brothel behind the soup kitchen -- and I enjoyed Christopher Lee's performance tremendously, from his charismatic arrogance throughout most of the film to his splendid final scene which let us see both Dracula and the Power he struggled with to Dracula's "end."
I was so struck with Christopher Lee bringing us not only Dracula but, in relief, God, that I wrote the following essay and posted it here at the Christopher Lee Website in January of 2000:
God as Uncredited Performer in "Taste the Blood of Dracula"
If the "D" word seems to encounter closed doors, consider the "G" word: The "G" word could not even get into a certain "D" movie -- at least not in a very reverent way -- well, at least not in English.
In "Taste the Blood of Dracula" (TTBOD), you hear the Pater Noster near the end of the movie, but there's a long way to go before we get there, and the filmmakers seem to go to great lengths to avoid a fundamental piece of Dracu-lore: the power of the almighty creator, without whom Dracula would be a simple physical threat -- a creature with no more moral significance than a hungry crocodile. Insert whatever disclaimers about God make you feel philosophically comfortable outside the context of the film, but God is definitely a player in TTBOD, despite the way his part is downplayed by the human protagonists in the story.
Was that downplay due to God's not joining the Screen Actors Guild? Were Hammer bean-counters afraid The Father would ask for a Really Big Salary and points? Doubtful. I think it's something that speaks to our lack of clarity about where the power is -- and a lack of courage to fit up the hero with faith, rather than romantic love and a bag of tricks.
In Coppola's "Bram Stoker's Dracula" (BS'sD), Anthony Hopkins' Van Helsing makes the importance of God to the God/Man/Dracula triangle quite explicit, from his early description of vampires as creatures that "live beyond the grace of God" (if there is such a state -- and by their own choice) to his declaration, "We are strong in the Lord and the power of his might!" In both films, the young romantic lead acknowledges God's standing -- Paul Paxton in TTBOD may have it written on his face in the church as he becomes acolyte and joins a battle that clearly no human can win, but in which even the most frail human person can instantly triumph by opening the heart's door for the almighty. In Coppola's BS'sD, young Jonathan Harker learns exactly what his position is from Van Helsing, who observes, "We have all become God's mad men." Young Harker, his hair already grayed overnight, is stunned as he realizes the truth of Van Helsing's statement -- and we know that moment will define Harker's core for the rest of his life.
Conversely, Secker -- the closest character to Van Helsing in TTBOD -- while bequeathing information about sacred objects to Paul Paxton, tells his young charge, "You have the courage to do what must be done and, above all, your love for Alice will act as your strength and your protection and, you must believe me, you must arm yourself with knowledge, Paul." If my mind were too clouded to help myself to God's help, and someone were doing battle for me, I would hope that person's strength were more than what he knew, together with romantic "love," which is really a self-indulgent and shakable feeling generated by hormones and fashioned around romantic ideas fabricated in a very recent century. I would hope my rescuer's strength would be God's. That would require in him the humility to admit the need for God and to ask God to handle the problem. True love would do that. Perhaps that was what young Paxton was doing after lighting the candles, with the sweet expression on his face, but the film makes it unclear whether we're seeing a soul calling on the almighty or a young man setting up pieces on a game board.
In the end, young Paxton prays the Pater Noster and, even though the cross instead of crucifix and lack of a host lead me to believe that this church is Protestant, we hear this prayer in Latin, so even the dear words "Our Father" are never uttered in English.
Forgive my ignorance of whether it's the norm for any Protestant church to pray in Latin, but I grew up in less formal Protestant churches before leaving church for many years, then was confirmed Roman Catholic in 1997. I don't really know if, say, Episcopalians or members of the Church of England or some other Protestant denomination use Latin in the liturgy, and I feel sure that if I satisfy myself on that point with an informal poll, someone will pop up to correct an oversight. However, Latin seems like the sort of thing Martin Luther would have found objectionable. It really doesn't matter whether The Lord's Prayer was said in Latin rather than English to avoid giving God direct attention, or because some may have considered it a sacrilege to speak the prayer in such recognizable form for the sake of art, or some other reason; it doesn't matter, because the soul knows what those words mean, no matter what language they're delivered in. And, even when the words were spoken in Latin, Dracula knew.
The Most Obvious Literary Objection
It's true that if you call on God, the horror story ends. Calling on God wakes dreamers from their nightmares -- both the sleeping and waking ones. One minute a child is facing a bully on the sand lot and, in the next, there's an army of a thousand adults standing between him and the bully. The bully is utterly powerless to pursue his program of terror -- he cannot even see the protagonist for the force standing between them. Perhaps it wouldn't be art if such a rescue were to come too quickly in a film. In real life, the protagonist often delays calling for help until he's bloodied enough to see his limitations. That delay may make for better stories -- just not better lives for the characters up until that point.
I would really bemoan the neglect of credit for God in TTBOD if Christopher Lee had not rescued the credit for him with his performance, giving God some of his due with eerie beauty. Of course, during the first part of the film, Christopher Lee graces the audience with a more sensual tantalization than the hope of a rousing spiritual victory at the end of the play. Mr. Lee's appearance, his voice, and his actions are riveting on a delightfully human level.
Performing Opposite God
When the Pater Noster begins, the camera shows the vault of evil now converted back into a house of God -- and Mr. Lee shows us the creature composed of evil meeting the creator of all good. I can't begin to speculate as to what Mr. Lee was thinking as he gave form and motion to the person of Dracula at that moment in the creature's existence -- I can only share what I got from his performance, seen through my own beliefs and expectations: a being composed almost entirely of selfishness, vengeance, destruction, and malice, beholding the God of love in objects and in human beings -- and the evil fled. Dracula's pathetic and sympathy-evoking final glance downward before he falls makes room for grace at the emptying of evil, and though there is beauty in his face, he is still separated from God -- which is the most horrible pain a soul can bear. He plunges downward and crashes onto the altar -- and reaches up toward heaven before his last gasp and the destruction of his "human" form. Then physical peace and, one must imagine, God embracing the soul that reached up to him.
The task of giving God something of his due in a script that seemed to trip on his name fell to the character who fought God most in the story. Christopher Lee's performance as Dracula showed the God opposite and above him as compellingly as if God had been cast in human form that everyone could see.
Granted...
Nobody goes to a Dracula film to make up for missing church. We (at least I) go to be thrilled and enticed. It's only in the end that I come around to, "Wait a minute -- he took Secker's son Jeremy and had him kill Secker -- that hurt!" From there on, Paul is welcome to start whittling stakes, as far as I'm concerned but, at that point, we'd better have the power of God in the story, because the power of man and some sharp sticks is never enough. I'm glad that Christopher Lee showed, with his reaction to the Pater Noster, not only the power of God -- but the power of God's love compared to romantic love and bravado. Romantic love is, by its very nature, selfish, which means it can be twisted to wrong ends. Selfish love doesn't scare Dracula away: Dracula's love for his servant is selfish; Alice's love for Dracula is selfish; even Paul's love for Alice is quite selfish -- especially as we see it near the beginning of the film. But God's love ends evil and brings peace. If Paul and Alice place -- and keep -- God's love at the center of their relationship, they will make the journey through life together well.
Mr. Lee, in facing the Great Love in battle, gave us a powerful glimpse of the unseen. No stakes, no running water, no sunlight, nor other tricks needed.
Thank you, Mr. Lee.
God bless you and yours.
--Rebecca Frances Rohan
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