How Dracula Triumphed Over One Obvious Shortcoming
Dracula changed everything. But which version of the 1931 classic should you watch?

On Valentine’s Day in 1931, the hottest date was easily the just-released Universal Studios movie, Dracula. Starring Bela Lugosi in the titular role, Dracula recontextualized the literary character for modern audiences, redefined the notion of the vampire as an anti-hero, and, along with Frankenstein in the autumn of the same year, firmly established what we think of as “Universal Monsters” forever.
But Dracula did all of that with one cinematic hand tied behind its back. Despite its impressive scope and budget for its time, Dracula did not have an original film score in 1931, meaning that when it was released, only the opening titles contained music, and that music wasn’t even composed for the film. (It was a selection from Swan Lake, which the 1932 version of The Mummy later reused as well.) So, despite being the first “talkie” motion picture adaptation of the 1897 Bram Stoker novel, Dracula lacks a musical score. Here’s why it was amazing anyway, and why the 1998 retroactive 1998 score from Philip Glass is essential for any serious fan.
Hardcore cinematic Dracula fans will often point out that the 1922 Nosferatu is the better adaptation of the Stoker novel, at least when it comes to conveying the horror and grotesque nature of the vampire. That said, Nosferatu was a pseudo-unauthorized Dracula adaptation, while the 1931 Universal film, directed by Tod Browning, was an adaptation of an adaptation; the screenplay from Garrett Fort was based on a stage play version written by Hamilton Deane and John L. Balderston in 1924. So while Nosferatu was a deeply German take on the novel, the Universal Dracula was decidedly a more populist take. And, for better or worse, that take stuck in the popular imagination for decades and decades to come.
Specifically, the idea that Count Dracula (Bela Lugosi) was a suave charmer isn’t just a feature of the 1931 film; it's the entire point of the film. Book purists may take issue with the idea of “hot Dracula,” but without Lugosi’s charm-heavy take on the character, nothing about the movie works. Prior to taking on the role, Lugosi had starred in many Hungarian silent films, in which he was, to put it mildly, a heartthrob. Looking at pre-Dracula photos of Lugosi (see below!) makes his status as a handsome leading man very clear. So again, if you think about Dracula in the context of being a movie that came out on Valentine’s Day, and you consider that Lugosi was already famous for his smoldering, leading-man appeal, then suddenly, everything about the movie makes perfect sense.
Bela Lugosi posing for the American play The Red Poppy in the mid 1920s.
That said, the idea that Lugosi’s Dracula brought the heat to this adaptation doesn’t mean that it’s not scary as hell, and full of brilliantly creepy touches. Early in the movie, when Dracula and his brides awaken from their coffins, we also get a shot of a Jerusalem cricket emerging from its coffin, suggesting a really dingy and depraved state of affairs at Castle Dracula. The ruined nature of Dracula’s home, as he lures Renfield (Dwight Frye) into his lair, is both over-the-top and perfect. After Dracula gives his famous “children of the night” line about the howling creatures outside, he awkwardly makes Renfield walk through a bunch of spider webs, as though he’s leading him through the most basic of haunted houses. This, combined with the almost casual way that we’re introduced to Dracula (and his brides, and his vampire bug), is what makes the movie scary. Everything is presented as normal for the Count, and the camera tends to linger on Lugosi’s gaze longer than it needs to because, of course, that lets us stare into his eyes longer, and get brain-washed just like Mina (Helen Chandler).
Again, the original cut of the film — which is the one you’ll find streaming most often — accomplishes all of this without a score. Later, especially with 1954’s Creature from the Black Lagoon, Universal monster movies had memorable scores. And yet, Dracula (and much of 1931’s Frankenstein) conveys the horror without the aid of additional music. The performances are everything.
Mina (Helen Chandler) is carried by Dracula (Bela Lugosi) toward the end of the film.
In 1998, composer Philip Glass created a new, full score for the 1931 Dracula. This score is fairly easy to track down on CD, and was incorporated into home video releases of the film, starting in 1999. Oddly, because those releases started on VHS and later, on DVD, readily watching a special edition of Dracula with the full Glass score mostly requires physical media to experience, not streaming. Is this a bad thing? Well, yes and no. The fact that most of us still watch the 1931 Dracula sans a musical score recreates the minimalist impact the film had all those years ago. And yet, if you’re a true Dracula head, getting a version with the Glass score, or at least listening to that music on its own, is essential.
Either way, 95 years after its release, the 1931 Dracula is a masterpiece. We don’t have modern horror cinema without it, and for new viewers, it remains as gripping and impressive as it was back in the day.