Unlocking Dracula A.D. 1972 by David Huckvale

Barry Forshaw

Speaking to the multi-talented David Huckvale recently about what he was working on, I suspected our amiable conversation might be challenged by his answer. ‘I’m writing a book about Dracula A.D. 1972’, David replied. I responded wryly that he would have his work cut out for him, writing about a Hammer film which (along with Scars of Dracula) is hardly on anyone’s favourites list when it comes to Hammer’s outings for the vampire Count. He smiled at my response, obviously convinced that when I’d read his book I’d revise my unenthusiastic opinion regarding the film. David — who has worked as researcher, writer and presenter of BBC radio as well as lecturing at a variety of universities — is also the premier UK expert on film music. He records (as do I) a variety of extras for Blu-rays of celebrated horror films, so who better than him to make the case for a neglected film such as Alan Gibson’s entry in the Hammer Dracula cycle in which the Coubnt does little more than some low-key skulking? Well, in the event (and unsurprisingly) Mr Huckvale is the perfect conduit. He tackles Dracula A.D. 1972 forensically, taking on-board political, social and cinematographic aspects of the film and exploring a variety of themes (including, startlingly, the psychogeography of the Chelsea neighbourhood where the film takes place). even making a case for Mike Vickers’ score which is counterintuitive, given his notable admiration for composer James Bernard when it comes to scoring Christopher Lee’s nocturnal outings. David has produced a truly persuasive piece of work – and while not quite changing my mind, he has sent me back to the film with a new attitude. You can bet that the next time I watch it, I’ll be rereading (as an adjunct) David’s impressive study.

 

Unlocking Dracula A.D. 1972 by David Huckvale is published by McFarland

 

 

 

 

The Life and Times of Sidney Greenstreet by Derek Sculthorpe

Barry Forshaw

The history of cinema is enriched by a variety of actors whose speciality was the villain, and some actors have made an indelible mark in that respect. The British Isles have produced more than their share of exemplary screen heavies from Boris Karloff and Basil Rathbone to Christopher Lee (casting that often relates to the supposedly ‘foreign’ aspects of their appearance) and many would make a case for the portly Sydney Greenstreet as one of the most distinctive. He was a late starter, making a striking debut as the avaricious Kasper Gutman in John Huston’s The Maltese Falcon in 1941. It’s surprising to be reminded in Derek Sculthorpe’s biography that Greenstreet’s screen career lasted only eight years but included not only the Huston film but what many consider to be among the greatest films of the 1940s, Michael Curtiz’s Casablanca (1942), not to mention Greenstreet’s multiple pairings with another equally memorable screen villain, Peter Lorre. This is in fact the first book dedicated to the actor, and features over a hundred photographs. It’s unlikely to be bettered as an adroitly written study of a very memorable actor.

The Life and Times of Sydney Greenstreet by Derek Sculthorpe is published by Bear Manor

 

 

Darkness Visible: The Cinema of Jonathan Glazer by John Bleasdale

Barry Forshaw

The writer John Bleasdale has long been one of the most perceptive and intelligent writers on contemporary cinema, and his new study of one of the key talents in the field is among his best work. The director Jonathan Glazer has created some truly memorable and unorthodox films, all of which to some degree have forged their own identities outside of the putative genre to which they belong. Sexy Beast, for instance, is a long way from a conventional crime saga, while Under the Skin tears apart the science fiction field to which it might seem to belong (not least through its erotic imagery). And The Zone of Interest is an examination of human evil very different from other treatments of the Nazi era. Bleasdale examines Glazer’s work in analytical but elegant prose, never attempting to reduce the director’s worldview to something consistent and predictable. And, refreshingly, Darkness Visible is a reminder of just how elegant and stimulating writing on the medium of film can be.

Darkness Visible: The Cinema of Jonathan Glazer by John Bleasdale Is published by Sticking Place Books