Trick ‘r Treat is an anthology film unashamedly in the mould of Creepshow and Tales From the Crypt, which themselves largely took their cues from the horror comics of the 50s and The Twilight Zone. It tells four separate but overlapping stories set in a small town celebrating Halloween. As with almost all anthology movies, these vary in tone and impact, but since the film a whole runs to a lean 79 minutes none are allowed to outstay their welcome. All comply to the tried and trust formula of a spooky setup followed by a gruesome twist ending. The slightest story, “The Principal”, features a brilliant turn from Dylan Baker, channeling the likes of Re-animator’s Jeffery Combs, propping up an otherwise fairly thin plot. “Surprise Party” and “The School Bus Massacre Revisited” are more substantial, the former boasting a terrifically full-on conclusion and the latter featuring some genuinely impressive atmospherics.

Like Creepshow, Trick ‘r Treat concludes with a one-hander featuring a veteran actor being tormented in his home; but instead of EG Marshall and thousands of insects, here we have Brian Cox and a pumpkin-headed demon called Sam. This segment is the undoubted highlight of the film. Sam is a brilliant creation; in a twisted take on A Christmas Carol, he pops up throughout the film as a warning to those who fail to respect the traditions of Halloween, but he reserves particular ire for Cox’s cantankerous Mr Kreeg, whom he pursues until he changes his ways. Cox gives a no-holds-barred performance, and the fight descends into some hugely enjoyable Evil Dead II-style slapstick/splatter.

As you might have guessed, Trick ‘r Treat isn’t hugely original, but Dougherty’s brilliantly witty, atmospheric direction holds everything together. In anchoring everything to a single town, he creates a real sense of location that is at once familiar but at times hauntingly alien; in “Surprise Party”, for example, the town’s festivities very quickly move from being jovial to threatening. The film is filmed with memorable and striking imagery: the aforementioned Sam, the decayed school bus half submerged in the lake, Kreeg’s front garden filled with carved pumpkins. The mood may predominantly be light-hearted, but Dougherty shows such craft it’s hard not to be dazzled.

The main point of divergence between Trick ‘r Treat and its predecessors is Dougherty’s decision (apparently taken during post-production) to cut between the stories rather than telling them in series. The downside to this is that the first 20 minutes or so are largely fairly leisurely-paced setup, to the extent that I was starting to wonder whether or not the film had been somewhat over-praised. Nevertheless, once all the stories are in motion, he delivers a genuine thrill ride that largely avoids the pacing problems that blight other anthologies.

Perhaps inevitably for a film that wears its influences so strongly on its sleeves, Trick ‘r Treat feels simultaneously very 80s and very 50s. But in an era where mainstream horror is becoming increasingly po-faced and misanthropic in its shocks, to see a modern, studio genre film that revels in a sense of well-crafted scary fun is hugely refreshing. It’s obviously a travesty that mainstream audiences were denied the opportunity to see this film on the big screen, but it points to bigger problems in Hollywood’s current handling of horror. This film easily stands alongside the likes of Creepshow and Carpenter’s Halloween as a definitive Halloween movie, one that you will want to watch – in company – every October. Yet the studios seem content to mark Halloween with the grungy nastiness of the Saw films rather than something far more inclusive, accessible and in keeping with the spirit of the season like this. (British readers who think this is overstating the case may like to reflect on just how widely Halloween is celebrated in the US). And Trick ‘r Treat impresses because despite the gore, murder and dismemberment, it retains the atmosphere of good, clean fun. So chalk this up as yet another horror blog telling you to buy this film, watch it, and tell your friends. As Sam is keen to stress, Halloween traditions must be respected…

The Spanish version runs for 20 minutes longer than the Browning version, and in general the extra time is well used to flesh out the story and add to the latent atmospherics of the tale. An abundance of small changes demonstrates the point. For instance, when the carriage carrying Renfield arrives at the village at the foot of Borgo Pass in the Browning version the villagers quickly dissipate and leave one sole peasant to beg the doomed lawyer not to proceed. The Spanish version fleshes this out a bit by having a larger group of villagers trying to warn him of his fate. The sincerity of a flock of people begging with Renfield not to proceed as opposed to a couple of men is much more effective at creating a genuine sense of foreboding and the feeling that these people really are terrified of the occupant of Castle Dracula.

On a broader level the Spanish version is a little more skilful at drawing this out of the story than the Browning version. The relationship between Eva and the Count is a lot more complex in this than the simple hunter-prey dynamic forwarded by Browning. As in the book the latent sexuality of the Count is allowed to shine through, as is that of his victims. I think this is helped by the excellent performance of Lupita Tovar as Eva, who comes across as a fuller and more rounded woman and who lacks the fragility of Helen Chandler’s Mina Harker. It’s a little easier to understand why Dracula risks being unmasked and destroyed to track her down, and also helps compound the tragedy of his insatiable existence that he can’t help himself.

My understanding is that the Universal crew would use the sets and film during the day whilst the Spanish crew took over by night. This would certainly help to explain some of the more accomplished direction and camerawork of this version as they were able to observe the Universal team at work and observe where improvements could be made. Perhaps because of its provenance in Broadway the Universal version at times feels like a stage play, especially the very static scenes towards the end once we’ve left Transylvania. To its credit the Spanish version almost completely avoids this and manages to keep the film injected with a sense of pace and tension. It still falls into the minor trap of losing itself in the drama of the Seward house in the closing scenes. The same thing happens in the Browning version, and Dracula becomes almost a bit character at times. Because this version establishes an edgier dynamic between the Count and the other characters early on his absence is less noticeable. In fact, I think this version would have benefited from being a bit longer. Whereas the Browning version is probably just on the mark in terms of length at times it feels like a stage play that could lose ten minutes or so. In contrast this version feels as thought it was made as a film in its own right rather than as an adaptation of a stage show, and for this reason it never feels burdensome or badly paced.

I couldn’t end without a few words on how Carlos Villarias compares to the legendary Bela Lugosi. Undoubtedly Lugosi is still the finest Dracula there has ever been. Taken as a whole though, watching this version made me realise that he is perhaps too dominant in Browning’s version. Because of his brilliance he cannot help but dominate the screen, and for this reason he perhaps prevents the other characters from truly developing or the subtleties of the story from emerging. The obverse is true with this version; whereas the cast are all perfectly competent none of them is outstanding (bar Tovar, above), but this allows the story to take priority rather than individual performances. If only Bela had learnt Spanish………

This wasn’t the first thought I had whilst watching Vincent Price walking around the deserted streets of his vanquished city, but it certainly cropped up. This is perhaps because The Last Man on Earth captures the utter solitude that must confront any person with the misfortune to bear that title so well. Despite the obvious technical limitations of the time Ubaldo Ragona obviously put real thought into getting across the isolation of Price’s new world. After a plague wipes out everyone else on Earth (just about) Robert Morgan, who has a mysterious immunity to the disease, manages to go on living life for three years in this new, quiet world. There are lots of little touches which help trap us there with him. The fact that Morgan keeps track of time by writing on his kitchen wall (calendars being no longer printed) is just one of these and is perhaps the most telling, reminiscent as it is of prisoners scratching lines on their cell walls to measure the duration of their imprisonment. Overall though, Morgan seems to be coping very well with his new routine. When we see him collecting his groceries and filling his car with petrol it is difficult to see what has changed, coming across as a Romero-esque back-handed compliment to the state of society. It would seem that boredom is the greatest threat to Morgan’s survival.

Until one realises that one quite serious change is the fact that the only other people to have survived the plague are a race of nocturnal vampires/zombies. This is where the ‘I Am Legend’ adaptation works so well, and also, conversely, where it trips the film up a little. Though Richard Matheson wrote the screenplay for Ragona it is apparent that the final result is the product several re-writes. Thus, the early parts of Last Man set out Morgan’s sense of siege brilliantly, both in terms of the vampires trying to feast on him and also his own sense of inadequacy as a man of science in being unable to stem the plague. What slightly lets the film down is how little time it devotes to the emotional consequences of all of this on Morgan. The sense of rage boiling away in him at seeing his family succumb, and the need for revenge against the vampires and their curse that he blames for this is lost somewhere along the way. His systematic comb through the city preying on the vampires is subsumed by his overall meticulousness in trying to survive so is freed from any sense of retribution. The scene where he oversleeps at his wife’s tomb hints at what is really driving him along but the rather lengthy flash-back to happier times dilutes the potency of the message somewhat.

This helps account for what can seem like rather a heavy-handed and muddled ending. As we are unaware of what Morgan’s real motivations are (for they clearly transcend survival, even through the occasional haze of Ragona’s direction) his closing remarks are incapable of conveying the latent power of Matheson’s book. The three-way struggle between the vampires, the ‘mutants’ and Morgan is reduced to a simple, elemental fight between good and evil. However, the complexities of deciding which side represents what are flagged up but are never utilised or explored. It is a tribute to Price’s fine performance that the innate sorrow of Morgan’s plight shines through, even if the ultimate absolution of the book is denied him.

This is a very difficult thing to do when the first thing we see the Martin do is brutally murder an innocent young woman. He makes no bones about the fact that he is a dangerous killer who chooses his victims with a disconcerting randomness. Martin’s inner turmoil is beautifully rendered in the dream scenes, where we see him fulfilling his vampiric fantasies. When contrasted with the gritty and desolate reality of his life in a declining Pittsburgh the clash between his world and his fantasies become even more apparent, and it is easy to feel sympathy with him for seeking refuge in the latter. This is especially so when we are shown his childhood trauma of being branded a vampire by his Eastern European family, and relive the attempts to purge him of his ‘evil’.

What really pushes the film along is the struggle between Martin and his uncle, Tata Cuda. Again it is difficult to resent Cuda’s obsession with the vampire myth that surrounds his family (product of the ‘old country’) even though this has at the very least been ineffective in helping his troubled nephew and has probably exacerbated the situation. Once the set-piece concepts have been brushed aside (with humour when Martin eats the garlic his uncle has nailed to the bedroom door and spits it out at him) Cuda comes to represent organised religion – and conventional morality on a wider level – and its utter futility in dealing with the situation. From walking at a distance ahead of his family right through to an exorcism, Cuda wants to both hide his family’s shame and try and remedy it. His – and the world he represents – inability to do either of these is effectively framed in the context of declining working class suburb of Pittsburgh, where human dignity has been eroded by the fight for survival.

There is an ageless quality about the world that Romero creates, with the economic slump of the late 1970s imposing a time warp effect on a community and way of life that is dying on its feet. This helps add to the confusion of what exactly is wrong with Martin, with the Nosferatu accusations becoming more plausible in the eerie and unfamiliar world we’re confronted with. As ever, Romero manages his players brilliantly and the largely unknown cast turn in flawless performances Thus, the film is a depressing one as you come to care for all of the characters and know that none of them will have a happy ending. Romero offers us a no-holes barred look at the dark side of human nature on every level which is gripping and disheartening and, ultimately, provocatively sensational.

There is no need to go over the story beyond noting that Browning sticks pretty faithfully to the original text. The cuttings he did make are generally positive, for example totally omitting the annoying bits in the book with the Whitby simpletons, and the overly draw-out convalescence of Lucy. Unlike many later adaptations ‘Dracula’ steers clear of trying to impose its own agenda or interpretations onto Stoker’s story and tells the tale simply and with clear direction. At times it does come across as a little stunted but as they only had an hour or so to play with it holds together very well.

What Browning does exceptionally well is capture the sinisterly captivating persona of Count Dracula and here he is helped along by the two things that really make the film stand out; the cinematography and Bela Lugosi in the lead role. The first twenty minutes of ‘Dracula’ are stunningly executed, from the spellbinding atmospherics of Harker’s journey to Castle Dracula to the Gothic-ally dark aura of the Count himself. Browning and Karl Fruend (his cinematographer) capture the audience after the first few frames, with an irresistible combination of stunning sets and flawless camerawork which are more than enough to compensate for the disappointing turn the film takes in the second half, when it reverts almost to the stage show which inspired Universal to take it into production. There is a real feeling of dislocation between the first and second halves of the film as we’re forced from the liberating panorama of Transylvania and the roaming adventure of the Count in London into a claustrophobic drawing-room drama.

Without doubt, Bela Lugosi was born to play this role and in ‘Dracula’ we see him at the apogee of his career. His interpretation of the role-seductive yet distant, suave yet primevally brutal-set the standards for most subsequent portrayals of the Count and it is impossible having watched ‘Dracula’ to think of anyone coming close to putting in such an outstanding performance. Tragically, Lugosi himself realised this which is why he turned down the role of Frankenstein that same year (it being beneath such a fine actor) and thus started along the path of obscurity and eventual ruin. Though clearly the outstanding talent in the film it must be pointed out that the supporting cast complement Lugosi perfectly, with David Manners and Edward Van Sloan particularly worthy of praise.

I haven’t managed to watch the Spanish language version of ‘Dracula’ that was filmed alongside this one, which is considered by many to be technically a far better movie. Even when I do get around to it I doubt that it would do enough to knock this version off its pedestal as the finest Dracula movie of them all. Though it tails off a little towards the end Browning does more than enough to grab the viewer in the first half of the movie to retain their loyalty and in doing so has produced the definitive telling of the Dracula story. Lugosi never escaped from his role as Count Dracula (he was actually buried in the costume) which is perhaps fitting because this film leaves such a lasting impression that viewers will forever equate him-and Browning’s effort-as the finest telling of the Bram Stoker’s tale.