Universal's pioneering and iconic film Dracula (1931) not only helped to establish Universal Pictures as the publics "go to" source for horror films, but it also used and created many film tropes that are still present in the horror genre today.

        The article is a review of Dracula, also known as Bram Stoker's Dracula, a 1992 horror/romance film produced and directed by Francis Ford Coppola, by Roger Ebert. This film was based on the actual novel Dracula by Bram Stoker and stars Gary Oldman as Count Dracula. In his three-star review of the film Ebert talks about in depth both the plot and the quality of the film. Although it is mostly a positive review, Ebert reflects on the fact that Coppola “seems more concerned with spectacle and set-pieces than with storytelling.” He additionally states that at times the narrative is confusing and has many dead ends. Nevertheless, he says that he enjoyed the movie simply because the way it looked and felt. At the end of the article, he states that cinematographer Michael Ballhaus and Production designers Dante Ferreti and Thomas Sanders had "outdone themselves.'

        The origin of this film is precisely how Universal's Dracula, and many of its other horror films, came to be. For many of the films during the “Universal Horror” years, their inspiration came from gothic novels, legends and stage plays. Mystery plays, where individuals travel to a house only to be spooked and scared by a supernatural (or not) being is another commonly adapted type of media. The concept presented in these films usually evolve from one telling to the next, refining and reshaping the narrative to suit the needs of the culture it resides in. Films like the Bram Stoker's Dracula are supremely important as they help to reinvigorate old ideas and stories. This director used modern cinematic techniques and effects to excite the audience about an old story they believed they knew well. Just like Universal did with Dracula in 1931, Coppola changes his story slightly to appeal to his contemporary audience. This is a commonplace occurrence within the horror genre and it serves as a method to keep it fresh as time goes on.

       This article is actually extremely interesting as it talks about the effects of Universal’s Dracula in the narratives native country of origin, Romania. Although the film was created in 1931, it was not until the collapse of Soviet rule that the film finally made it way to the Transylvanian countryside. Apparently, after this discovery, much of the Romanian economy was transformed as tourist attractions based on the figure sprung up to capitalize (literally) on their country’s infamy. Hotels converted themselves into castle like bed and breakfasts, ordinary coffins became stage props for midnight performances, and ordinary roads became dark and scary paths for haunted hayrides. Additionally, besides a growth in tourism, the commercial exploitation of Dracula and Transylvania received an extra boost through the increase in academic tourism – several  international meetings of scholars specializing in the horror genres began to take place there as well.
    It’s an intriguing idea that a simple novel written Bram Stoker could inspire a film that later spawns a small scale cultural and economic revolution for a little, seemingly ordinary nation. This fact proves that Dracula’s influence reached far past the borders of our own nation and affected cultures around the world. A simple search on Google images with terms like “Dracula Japan” shows that the iconic imagery contained within the 1931 film is still found in popular culture even on the other side of the world. The Universal version of Dracula served as the basis for all future retellings in popular culture. Perhaps it was Bela Lugosi’s eerie voice acting or Jack Pierce’s masterful make-up work, whatever the reason, the 1931 account of Bram Stoker’s Dracula established itself as the most recognizable version of the tale to date and possibly forever.

In February of 1931 New York Times journalist Mordaunt Hall reviewed Director Tod Browning’s film Dracula. Throughout his review the writer raves about the picture; even though his summarization, his excited tone is evident. Although within his short article he seems to be enamored with the fantastical idea behind of the film, he does concede that the acting of some individuals is sub par. He ends with the line “This film can at least boast of being the best of the many mystery films.”
    Although it may appear unassuming at first, this article is actually very telling. Not only does it describe how the critics and the public felt about the film in 1931, it now serves as a forecast for the success that Universal would see later on with its other horror films. The author readily acknowledges that the film is not a high class picture but one for the masses, aimed squarely at those with the imagination and courage to view it. And arguably, it came at no better time. With the great depression in full swing and a general sense of hopelessness abounding, America needed a way to escape. What better way to do it than a Universal Pictures horror movie? After all, not much can scare someone after they face down the idea of not having enough to feed their families day after day. Dracula, as well as Frankenstein, the Wolfman and the Mummy, served as icons of distraction that helped America get though hard times and ignite their imaginations. This service proved invaluable in these troubled times and ultimately resulted in their visible location in modern society.

Directed by James Whale and starring Boris Karloff as Frankenstein’s monster, Universals adaptation of the 1818 Mary Shelley novel Frankenstein was a crucial film in the studios line of horror pictures. Like Dracula, the film was released in 1931 and received critical acclaim from both critics and the public alike. The films narrative follows the now familiar plot of a mad scientist bent on creating a man from assorted dead parts and playing God. The twist occurs when the monster becomes uncontrollable and instead of creating man, Dr. Frankenstein creates a dreadful monster. By the end of the film, the local townspeople decide that the creation is an abomination and ultimately destroy it. The film was lauded because of its superb make-up, special effects and thrilling plot. It later spawned several sequels, prequels and side stories including Bride of Frankenstein and Frankenstein vs. the Wolfman.
    The true testament to the iconic nature of the film can be seen in the visual representations of Frankenstein that pervade the world today. Almost every single representation of the character we see in western society is based on the green skinned, bolted and shambling version presented to us by Universal in the early 1930’s. We see versions of Boris Karloff’s face on cereal boxes, cartoons and, of course, in the masks of Halloween costumes. The longevity of these images that occur in our culture is a genuine indicator of the success of the Universal horror line of films; they have become integrated into our popular consciousness and now represent the traditional fiends and monsters that we draw on for inspiration. Like with Dracula, Universal’s Frankenstein has become the most recognizable version of the monsters narrative, even more so than the original work by Shelley. Because of these reasons, Universal was able to establish itself as the best studio producer of horror films of the 20th century.

Written by Michael Atkinson in 1998, this article was featured in the Village Voice film section. In its paragraphs it describes a number of classic horror films a person could bring his or her family to. Atkinson stated that during the hey-day of horror films during the 1930s and 1940s the films must have supplied thrills and fun for depression era movie goers. He contends that their age now makes them more appealing to young boys and lovers of camp. With titles like Frankenstein vs. the Wolfman, who can blame him? Because of this, Atkinson states, the films are now more humorous than scary. He does however say that Universal Horror had a large influence on popular culture. He states:

    This small handful of films are responsible for more specific cultural touchstones than the era's westerns, musicals, and gangster films combined: Jack Pierce's flat-headed Frankenstein monster makeup and hotwired-Afro Bride design, Lugosi's accent, the hunchbacked lab assistant, the mad scientist, the throbbing electrical hardware of the lab itself, crowds of townspeople with torches, the details of werewolf myth (silver bullets, etc.), the vampire's old-world urbanity, and so on.

    Atkinson’s article for the most part is very agreeable. It’s blatantly obvious that the Universal horror films of the 1930s and 40s have begun to show their age. He eludes to the fact that horror films have evolved since then; this is very true. Films now contain much more gore, special effects, nudity and action. The modern audience has been desensitized to the traditional scares of yesteryear. The horror genre has come a long way since 1931 as the society that creates these narratives alters its own tastes as time marches on. In the 60’s we had the underhanded thrills of Hitchcock, the 80’s brought the blood with the likes of Freddy Krueger, and with the new millennium our society has found itself with the over-the-top style of the Saw series. Yet what these newer films lack is the other point Atkinson contends with within his article. The classic films that he highlights, especially ones like Dracula and Frankenstein, have engrained themselves in our national consciousness and have become a part of our collective identity. While today they may seem cheesy, at their release these films were truly terrifying tales about monsters that go bump in the night.

The writer of this article discusses a book called Hollywood Gothic: The Tangled Web of "Dracula" from Novel to Stage to Screen. Within his article he summarizes the book and talks about its more interesting aspects and ideas. According to his details, the text deals with many adaptations of the popular legend, both mainstream and obscure. While the book’s author mentions the 1931 version of Dracula with Bela Lugosi, he seems to mostly focus on another version by George Melford and Carlos Villiaras. This other version of the Bram Stoker narrative was also made by Universal in 1931 and even used the same script and sets. However this edition was filmed in Spanish as it was going to be distributed to Mexico and Spain. The book’s author argues that this version not a mere clone but is vastly superior to the American version in both cinematic style and performances. Within the book the author also recounts the legal battles surrounding F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu. While this film was another adaptation of the Dracula legend popularized by Bram Stoker, it was not authorized by the authors and thus illegal. The books author contended that although it was illegitimate in the eyes of the law, this 1922 silent version was still a extremely entertaining and a well done film.
    As the author describes, the story of Dracula is one filled with many appropriations of his image and hundreds of adaptations. He also states that the 1931 Spanish language version of Dracula was one of the best uses of the narrative ever. To this, many would have to agree. However, the reason why this version reigns supreme within the world of cinema is chiefly because of the company that backed its production. Universal brought together the inventive minds of make-up artist Jack Pierce, Director Tod Browning and Cinematographer Karl Freund to create a memorable works whose echoes can still be felt within society today. Although many individuals may be able to create an adaptation of a horror story, few pulled it off as well as Universal Pictures and their collection of ingenious minds.

    This particular entry appeared in the St. James Encyclopedia of Pop Culture and was written by Austin Booth. Within its pages, Mr. Booth describes the monster Dracula, in almost all of his many incarnations, within the realm of popular culture. He of course talks extensively about the 1931 version of the narrative, but also finds time to pay homage to a wide variety of characters such as “Sesame Street's Count, Grandpa Munster, Blackula, Duckula, and Count Chockula.” He then describes the resurgence of interest in monster culture on television during the late 1950s and 1960s. Lastly, his entry focuses on the idea of Dracula as a foil or guide to view popular ideas of psychological and social issues.

    Dracula is interesting as he can represent a metaphor for several issues within our society. Some see him as the fear of homosexuals in bodily form. Others believe him to be representative of medieval aristocracy or the uncaring nature of nobility towards the proletariat. A few individuals even see him as the embodiment of his victims in fiendish form. While his physical forms may be analogous to one another, the ideas behind Dracula are much more amorphous. The count is a fascinating monster as his intentions and metaphors can be appropriated to match many circumstances. His status is ambiguous as both fiend and gentleman, hyper-masculine and feminine, ravenous and deliberate. His conflicting dualities lend him to fit within many roles; because of this filmmakers have adapted his persona to suit different eras and audiences.

This article by Robert Spadoni called “The Uncanny Body of Early Sound Film” describes in detail the early days of sound in film. Although it only talks about Dracula by Tod Browning briefly, the rest of its information is applicable nonetheless. He explains that early sound technologies were crude, and thus elicited different feelings from the audience than it does now. At the time, sound was a new technology that people were not quite used to yet and many horror films, like Dracula, used this to thier advantage. The author describes how Dracula actor Bela Lugosi intones his lines in “the thickly accented and gloriously offbeat manner that has since endeared him to many fans.” The synchronization of the image and his otherworldly accent, the author says, sent shivers down the spines of unsuspecting audience goers.

    This article very much gets one fact absolutely right: Sound was a very important feature of early horror films. As a new characteristic of the medium, in 1931 films with sound brought in audiences by themselves, the technology was still was a bit of a novelty to the public as they were not yet quite used to it. Moreover, sound on film allowed filmmakers to create more involved narratives and further draw in the viewer. In both Dracula and its contemporary works, the balance of silence and sound is used to heighten the thrill the public receives from each scene. Additionally, the uses of ambient noise – the howl of a wolf, the sound of bats leaving a cave, the creak of a door hinge – were used in Dracula to scare the audience. Today these techniques are still used and still offer the same chills and thrills they delivered almost 80 years ago. Perhaps it’s hardwired into our brains but sound is one of the most effective ways to disturb the human mind; Dracula and other Universal horror films knew this and used it.

The Road to Dracula. Dir. David J. Skal. Perf. Carla Laemmle, Bela Lugosi Jr.. DVD. Universal, 1999.

The Road to Dracula is a short documentary film on the creation of Dracula (1931). It describes the origins and creation of the film, its ensuing success, and its enduring cultural impact. It describes some of the aspects of Dracula (1931) that made it popular at the time, such as the appeal of Lugosi as the Count.

The Road to Dracula describes the evolution of the vampire from earlier folkloric and literary incarnations to the first Dracula in Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel Dracula, which became the quintessential vampire novel, despite not being the first. It moves on to discuss Dracula’s first appearances in theater and film, most notably in Dracula’s Death (an unauthorized Hungarian film that was not an adaptation of Stoker’s novel but was Dracula’s first screen appearance), Nosferatu (1922, an unauthorized German adaptation of Stoker’s novel), the stage play Dracula (1924, an authorized adaptation of Stoker’s novel), and the film Dracula (1931, an authorized adaptation of Stoker’s novel based largely off the play).

The documentary discusses how Bela Lugosi’s incarnation of Dracula in the film Dracula became the definitive Dracula that has endured in popular culture to the present day. It also compares Lugosi’s Dracula to the other incarnations, both newer and older. For example, Lugosi’s suave Dracula contrasts greatly with Max Shreck’s hideously rat-like Count Orlok. Various personages speculate as to what aspects of the film Dracula contributed to its enormous success. Some mention that the use of sound impressed audiences, as Dracula was one of the first Universal horror films with sound. The film also benefited from Karl Freund’s (of The Last Laugh and Metropolis) camerawork. Others attribute Dracula’s success to the charisma of Lugosi’s Dracula, with his powerful stage presence and uniquely deliberate delivery. Still others emphasize the commingling of eroticism and vampirism in the film. Lugosi’s preying on young women is intentioned to incite both fear and arousal in the audience simultaneously. This aspect of the film differentiates it from earlier film Draculas and likely contributed to its success. Universal’s advertising campaign for Dracula that, while focusing on its horror elements, also exploited the film’s underlying sexual content, is thought to have been effective in promoting the film as well.

Rickels, Laurence A. The Vampire Lectures. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1999.

In Chapter 11 of The Vampire Lectures, Rickels offers a psychoanalytic interpretation of Browning’s Dracula (1931).  He analyzes Lugosi’s on-screen presence and association with the theater and details what Rickels asserts is the representation of psychoanalysis in the film by Van Helsing.  For example, in reference to Van Helsing’s staying behind at the end while John and Mina ascend the staircase in the final scene, Rickels compares Van Helsing to “the underworld of psychoanalysis” which must be left behind for Mina to be cured.

Rickels focuses on the repressed desire of women for the exotic outsider.  In the film this is represented by Mina’s relationship with the Lugosi’s Count Dracula of Transylvania, with his unique foreign accent, suave manner, and commanding gaze.  Rickels asserts that the essence of the film is about whatever it takes for a woman to prefer “someone more normal, like John,” as Mina tells Lucy she does in the film.  This aspect of the film appealed to the repressed desires of female audiences.

Cook, David A. A History of Narrative Film. New York: W. W. Norton, 1996.

In Chapter 8 of A History of Narrative Film, Cook analyzes the effects of the introduction of the sound film into the American studio system.  He asserts that the emergence of sound drastically changed the makeup of Western cinema.  Cook discusses the development and popularity of the musical film genre that came about during this time as a result of sound film technology.  He also discusses the added potential for realism enabled by the sound film, such as in the urban gangster films with their tough vernacular speech and distinctive “rat-a-tat-tat” of the Thompson submachinegun.

Cook maintains that the existing genre of the horror film was the most greatly enhanced by the addition of sound.  He alleges that sound not only enabled eerie effects to make the films’ horror elements more effective, but it also allowed horror films to retain the depth of literary dialogue present in so many of their original sources.  He attributes the success of Dracula (1931) to the boons offered by the sound film.

Holte, James Craig. Dracula in the Dark: The Dracula Film Adaptations. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1997.

In Chapter 2 of Dracula in the Dark: The Dracula Film Adaptations, Holte discusses the early adaptations of Stoker’s Dracula, namely the film Nosferatu (1922), the Dracula stage play, and the film Dracula (1931), placing them in their historical contexts. Holte discusses Murnau’s Nosferatu and compares it to its source material. He details how Nosferatu greatly simplifies Stoker’s Dracula:

Major characters are deleted, other characters, most significantly that of the vampire, are made one-dimensional, and entire scenes, including Stoker's effective chase of the vampire by the fearless band of vampire hunters across Europe and the confrontation at Castle Dracula, are cut. In addition, the Van Helsing character, who is a major force in the novel and can be seen as Dracula's "good" double, is reduced to a brief appearance; he has been replaced by The Book of the Vampire. Similarly, the character of Lucy Westenra is gone, as are almost all references to technology, colonialism, and religion, which provided the rich backround in Stoker's novel. As a result, much of the complexity of Stoker's novel is lost.

Holte recognizes the stylistic elements of German Expressionism in Nosferatu that make it unique and notes that film criticism generally favors Nosferatu over Browning’s Dracula. Similarly, Holte compares Browning’s Dracula to the source material. While retaining more of the characters and plot elements of Stoker’s novel than Nosferatu, Browning’s Dracula also omits some characters, such as Quincy Morris and Arthur Holmwood. The adaptation also relies heavily on the stage play, especially in the latter half.

While Nosferatu and Dracula are both adaptations of Stoker’s Dracula, they offer diametrically opposing readings of the novel, both from the viewpoints of style and of substance. Holte notes the disparity between the German Expressionist style of the traditional Hollywood style of Browning’s Dracula. While he compares both films individually to their source material, he also compares them to one another. For example, Nosferatu entirely omits the sequence where Dracula’s vampirellas bear down on his visitor, whereas it includes a horrifying ship scene absent in Browning’s Dracula. Additionally, the films’ portrayals of Dracula differ greatly; Nosferatu’s is a hideously ugly plague-bearer while Browning’s is a suave figure in evening clothes. Holte notes that “Browning’s Dracula succeeds because of its emphasis on individual conflict and sexual attraction, two essential elements played down by Murnau in his adaptation of Dracula.”

Phillips, Kendall R. Projected Fears: Horror Films and American Culture. Westport, CT: Praeger, 2005.

In Chapter 1 of Projected Fears: Horror films and American Culture, Phillips discusses the cultural impact of Browning’s Dracula (1931).

Phillips briefly discusses the history of the creation of Browning’s Dracula. He moves on to note the numerous technical gaffes and otherwise glaring flaws in the film. For example, contemporary reviewers criticized the film’s fairly static second and third acts, the unintentionally jumpy, disconnected narrative, and the awkward mix of visuals and exposition. However, despite a poor forecast from Universal and generally unfavorable contemporary reviews, Browning’s Dracula was a huge commercial success.

For Phillips, this makes Dracula even more interesting. He inquires, “given the various problems of Dracula – poor effects, staginess, narrative inconsistencies, and so on – the film’s enormous popularity is a bit of a puzzle. Why would audiences flock to the film?”

Phillip argues that Dracula resonated with contemporary audiences’ racial anxieties towards European immigrants and with their fears of the balkanization of America. He reasons that the fantasy of Dracula also offered an escape from the harsh economic reality of the Great Depression. Dracula resonated with cultural anxieties about progressive, scientific approaches to life and the struggle between science and religion. Similarly, the film addressed audiences’ confusion over gender and sexual norms in an age directly following the 1920s’ moral experimentation and “flappers.”

Phillips also attributes part of the success of Dracula to its violation of the expectations that audiences brought to the film. Unlike previous horror films, which tended to explain away their macabre elements at the end, such as in The Phantom of the Opera (1925) and London after Midnight (1927), Dracula offers no convenient explanation for its supernatural elements.

What made Dracula so popular? Why is his legacy so enduring? How did Dracula (1931) differ from previous vampire stories and horror films, and how did these differences result in its serendipitous success in the face of a negative critical response and poor expectations from Universal?

Dempsey, Michael. "The Exorcist." Film Quarterly. Vol. 27, No. 4 (Summer, 1974): 61-62.

The Exorcist was extremely popular among the viewers, driving out millions to see the spectacle of the film. Though sensationalized in the media and among the viewing public, the critics had a much different view. The review in Film Quarterly expresses a critic’s opinion compared to the masses, showing that the film produced just as strong a negative effect.

Michael Dempsey opens his review with the line, “The Exorcist is the trash bombshell of 1973, the aesthetic equivalent of being run over by a truck” (61). He proceeds by criticizing first the public response of the film; he believes that people inappropriately associate shock value with film quality. As William Zuckerman noted that people went to the theater to be stimulated by fear, Dempsey blames William Friedkin and William Peter Blatty for manipulating “the most primitive fears and prejudices of the audience” (61).

Dempsey also criticizes the filmmakers, in particular the ideas that Blatty attempted to reveal in the film. In regards to theology, he calls Blatty’s portrayal “idiotic”. The use of an exorcism of a young girl does not prove the existence of God, as Dempsey writes “…faith, faith in what? In a God who allows an innocent girl to be tortured?” (62). He asserts that Blatty’s faith stems not from the love of God, but from the fear of hell. Dempsey also evaluates the originality of the film, citing a list of movies with similar elements, and the acting, calling Linda Blair’s performance a “film technician’s Frankenstein” (62).

Although Dempsey’s review is from a rather extreme point of view, it is important to understand the full range of response to the film. The explosive response to The Exorcist came from many diverse viewpoints, Dempsey representing the opinion of the film from a cinematic perspective.

The Exorcist, released on December 26, 1973, created an enormous response from viewers and critics, from loving the film to hating it, all for different reasons. People reacted to all aspects of the film . religion, violence, gore, and sex. A phenomenon had been created. The sensationalism surrounding the film was perpetuated by moviegoers and journalists, who had reported of fainting, heart attacks, vomiting, and miscarriages during the film. The Exorcist was even blamed for a murder in the UK. The extreme emotions evoked by the story is generally attributed to the more superficial elements of the film, but William Peter Blatty, writer of the original novel and of the screenplay, had intended it to be much deeper and thought-provoking. The annotated bibliography contains sources that reveal multiple layers of the film, attempting to capture a piece of the full range of responses.

Marriott, James. Horror films. London: Virgin, 2004.
Call#: Van Pelt Library PN1995.9.H6 M323 2004

 

The Exorcist succeeded in large part due to the hype surrounding the film. In fact, there was just as much controversy within the filmmaking process as there was about the film. In the section titled “The Exorcist”, James Marriot provides details behind the making of the film, from inception to the post-release reactions. In it, it is revealed that the film may well have been a product of the director, William Friedkin, rather than that of William Peter Blatty.

Blatty initially wanted to write a factual case history, based on an article he had read in the Washington Post in 1949, but the family had no interest. Producer Paul Monash offered Blatty $400,000 for a six-month option to film his novel, who then sold the option to Warner Brothers for a reported $641,000. After Monash was cut from the project, Blatty wanted an agnostic director but ended up with William Friedkin, a Jewish director who forced Blatty to create a second draft of the script in order to work with him.

Friedkin was a difficult director; having no connections to Iraq, he had to make additional promises to Iraqi filmmakers in order to shoot the opening scenes there. He opted to have all mechanical effects and little optical effects – for the exorcism sequence, the entire room was enclosed and refrigerated. Blatty criticized many of Friedkin’s techniques, such as the spinning head sequence which he deemed unnecessary, saying that “supernatural doesn’t mean impossible” (qtd. in 132). There were additional dangers on the set: a rig that was attached to a mold that had been made for Linda Blair came loose during shooting, requiring back treatment. Friedkin used these difficulties to show journalists and the public that the movie was cursed, increasing the buildup of attention around the film.

After the film’s release, which opened in only 30 cinemas, the term “cinematic neurosis” became popular, when psychiatric problems were exposed from disturbing films in people with no history of mental illness. The movie was blamed for criminal and suicidal acts, including one incident in the UK in October 1974, when a 14-year-old boy blamed for the movie for his murder of a 9-year-old girl. The MPAA changed the rating from R to 17 certificate from increasing public pressure, and the UK gave it an X rating. The public was so caught up in the hype that the movie became the highest grossing horror movie internationally. In this section, Marriott explains the creation and perpetuation of that hype that would dispel any oddities surrounding the movie.

Magistrale, Tony and Michael A. Morrison, ed. Dark Night's Dreaming : Contemporary American Horror Fiction. Columbia, S.C.: University of South Carolina Press, 1996.
Call#: Van Pelt Library PS374.H67 D37 1996

The Exorcist is based on the book of the same name written by William Peter Blatty, who also wrote the screenplay. Chapter 6, “Casting Out Demons: The Horror Fiction of William Peter Blatty” details Blatty’s inspirations for writing the novel and his thoughts on the reaction to his work. Even the book had an enormous impact, spending 55 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list. From this, the more serious intentions of the story can be understood without the visual stimulations of the movie to distract.

Douglas E. Winter writes that Blatty brought a new legitimacy to the horror genre, that he “ushered the reign of Stephen King and the stylized horror genre in the late 1970s and early 1980s” (84). Blatty was raised as a Roman Catholic, having attended a Catholic grammar school, a Jesuit high school, and a Jesuit university – Georgetown. Before writing The Exorcist, he had already published 8 books and produced 11 film scripts, and was known as a comedy writer. It wasn’t until 1971 that he wrote the book based on a successful exorcism he had read about in the Washington Post in 1949. Blatty said, “It seemed a validation of what we were being taught as Catholics, and certainly a validation of our hopes for immortality. Because if there were evil spirits, why not good? Why not a soul? Why not life everlasting?” (qtd. in 87). It was this confirmation that Blatty tried to evoke through his novel, though he concedes that “the real point of the book is nowhere to be found in the film” (qtd. in 91).

Winter praises The Exorcist as a book that confronts religious issues in a thought-provoking manner. He also discusses the social undertones of the story, of women's liberation and the rebellion of youth. The popularity of the book can be attributed to its sensationalism and to the pronounced taboos, but Blatty's real intention, as shown by Winter, was to reveal his hopeful attitude of what the exorcism implies about the justification of religion and the afterlife.

Harrison, Stephanie.  Adaptations: From Short Story to Big Screen.  New York: Three Rivers Press, 2005.

Harrison’s book neither deals directly with Roeg’s film, nor with du Maurier’s short story that inspired it, but it is essential to any analysis of Don’t Look Now.  The process by which a director adapts a short story into film is important, because a short story is just that, short.  A director must take something that rarely lasts over fifty pages and turn in into a film that usually lasts over two hours.  A director must take the story and ‘run with it;’ in some ways making the story his own.  Harrison analyzes 35 short stories and the films they spawned.  She separates the films and analyses into sections based mainly on genre (Horror, Western, etc.).  Don’t Look Now is a hybrid film, so it would not snugly fit in any of the genres that Harrison chooses, but it does have horror, drama, erotica, and auteur elements to it.  Harrison describes four different auteurs (Altman, Hitchcock, Kubrick, and Kazan) and their individual styles of adaptation.  She calls Altman, for instance, the “translator” (3), because he attempted to stay as true as possible to the original story.  There is little to no literature written about Nicholas Roeg, so it is impossible to know whether or not he would fit in with any of the different auteurs.
    One point I found very interesting in Harrison’s analysis is her idea that audiences are less hard on films based on short stories for being true to their source material, because “few short stories are embedded in the public’s consciousness in a way that popular novels are” (xvi).  In the case of Don’t Look Now, both the story and the film seem to have been lost from the public consciousness (due, in part, to the success of The Exorcist, which was released the same year as Roeg’s film).  Harrison’s book, as I said above, never mentions Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now, but by looking at the process by which other writers have adapted short stories, we can get a sense of the different approaches to it and how Roeg many have gone about doing it.  Roeg took a fifty-four page short story about a man’s blindness to his abilities and his fate and refashioned it into an unsettling drama/thriller about a married couple and ...

Hutchinson, Tom. Horror & Fantasy in the Movies.  New York: Crescent Books, 1974: 13-36.

Hutchinson goes beyond merely mapping out the history of horror cinema, and dedicates the first chapter of his book to revealing the deeper meanings beyond certain horror films.  Behind the blood and monsters, Hutchinson sees social commentary and much more, which the average viewer is completely unaware of.  He events of The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) and concludes that its underlying message is, “that we ought to co-operate or else” (23).  Hutchinson writes that Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956), another 1950s sci-fi film, “carries a warning about loss of identity, an all-too-grim idea in a world where individuality is ironed out into uniform characteristics of thought and yes-saying” (23).
Hutchinson begins his analysis with the birth of cinema and the fantasy shorts of George Meliès.  He moves into German Expressionist films, such as Robert Weine’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919) and Fritz Lang’s Metropolis (1926) (19-21).  He also refers to Hitchcock’s The Birds (1963) and Jacques Tourneur’s Cat People (1942) as further examples of horror films with social messages (23).  Hutchinson argues though, that one cannot simply voice these messages, or warnings, to the audience directly.  As he says, they must be “wrapped up in trappings of tinsel before they will be accepted” (28).
Don’t Look Now (1972) is one of those films whose meaning is “wrapped in trappings of tinsel” (28).  Hutchinson explains that, “[Donald] Sutherland here carries the seeds of his own destruction within himself, but will never know it” (29).  Reflexively, we are placed in the same position as Sutherland, because we are also unable to interpret the signs to recognize the future (e.g. our doom).  Hutchinson’s argument is that, “[Sutherland] is time-trapped in the way that we all are, unable to move beyond his three-dimensional context” (29).  Hutchinson ties into a theme explored in other sources I have encountered, that of time and space (in Don’t Look Now).  He, unfortunately, does not give the theme an adequate explication (quickly moving to the next film), but he does place the film in relation to other horror films that do more than just scare.  One is easier able to understand Don’t Look Now, when placed in the context of other horror films...

Based on the short story by Daphne du Maurier, Directed by Nicolas Roeg, Screenplay by Chris Bryant and Allan Scott, Music by Pino Donnagio, Starring Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie

In this article, Joanne Cantor discusses Jaws along with other famously frightening films that have scared audiences for years. Among the reasons cited by Cantor and her research, emotional impact is a recurring topic.

The responses that included Jaws all had similar analysis of the effects of the film on the viewer. As Cantor notes, many of the students wrote about how the film personally affected them as opposed to others. There were two main categories of emotional effects: those that occurred when the subject was awake and those that took place during “bedtime” hours.

Movies such as Poltergeist, The Blair Witch Project, and Scream share such characteristics, which may be one reason why all of these films have had such documented success in the industry. In particular, Jaws had the most influence on people in the water, with 65% of viewers reporting interference with swimming. Additionally, 43% of the 83% of viewers who cited life-changing effects had ongoing problems from Jaws.       

In her conclusion, Cantor explains that in addition to the emotional effects from Jaws, there might be an evolutionary reason for why people are so affected of traumatic experiences (i.e. horror films). She cites LeDoux’s theory that we have accurate memories of these experiences so as to identify life-threatening situations in the future and act quicker and more rationally.

seems like a good introduction