(1970)
Dir - Massimo Dallamano
Overall: MEH
Italian director Massimo Dallamano, (who penned a number of giallos before and after this), also co-wrote what would be the eighth The Picture of Dorian Gray movie, here titled simply Dorian Gray, (or not so simply, also The Sins of Dorian Gray and A God Called Dorian translated in different markets). The film is a textbook example of late 60s, early 70s mod cinema in which filmmakers became daring with what was allowed to be depicted due to the sexual revolution being in full swing, where more explicit subject matter in general was given liberal sway over the medium. In this regard, the movie is inescapably dated, with the setting being switched to then present day swinging London. Even as Gray ages however many decades he does, everyone is still dressed as if the 1970s just started. Austrian actor Helmut Berger looks plenty the part, but he is too despicable in the title role, lacking the cold, unemotional charm of say Hurd Hatfield in the novel's best cinematic adaptation from 1945. It fits the more decadent aspects of Oscar Wilde's original story and obviously goes further in sexual debauchery than any previous version, but this fails to make it enjoyable.
(1971)
Dir - Alastair Reid
Overall: MEH
The sophomore effort from British television director Alastair Reid, (with a score from Bernard Hermann no less), was this adaptation of Joy Cowley's Nest in a Fallen Tree novel. Here titled The Night Digger, (The Road Builder in the U.K.), it is a mess and for a thriller, hardly thrilling. There is no suspense built up since we are only treated to a scant few malicious set pieces in the first place, with the movie routinely forgetting to figure out what kind of story it is supposed to be telling. Everyone's behavior comes off as arbitrary and nearly every plot point seems underwritten, often astonishingly so. From the relationship between a blind doting mother and her adopted daughter, said daughter's romantic inclinations towards a young drifter handyman, and said handyman's drastic personality flipping, each character's dynamics with each other are so vaguely defined that it feels like there are huge chunks of necessary information being left out. The ending comes laughably out of nowhere, almost making the whole movie seem like a farce. It fails then to be properly engaging, instead becoming unintentionally confusing.
(1977)
Dir - Philip Saville
Overall: GOOD
By 1977, Dracula films had been regularly in production since the silent era, and this version made by the BBC was not the first or even the last from England during that decade, let alone anywhere else in the world. Since the story can go on auto-pilot for virtually any viewer at this point, we are only left to bask in the performances, technical aspects, and overall presentation, all the while comparing it to every other take on the source material that we have seen. In such a regard, Count Dracula offers the usual crop of good and sub-par components. Its length may be intimidating, but at a hundred and fifty-five minutes, it is no wonder that this is considered one of the most faithful adaptations ever filmed, as that provides ample enough time to cover a whole lot from Bram Stoker's novel. There are some curious, odd, poor, and dated special effects, and video quality that was common of the BBC suffers the film visually. French actor Louis Jordan's polite demeanor and Caucasian looks make for an unorthodox choice as the Count, but his performance remains committed at least. Frank Finlay and Jack Shepherd make a fine Van Helsing and Renfield respectively but try not to bust out into hysterics over British singer Richard Barnes' Southern drawl as Quincey, which is even more pathetic than Keanu Reeves' infamous, forced accent in Francis Ford Coppola's version.
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