Picking up immediately from events in Dracula, this film opens with Van Helsing (Edward Van Sloan) being arrested for murder, having been found by the police in the presence of the bodies of Renfield and Dracula. As Van Helsing tries to convince the law of his innocence, a woman steals the Count's body and burns it in a funeral ceremony; she is Countess Marya Zaleska (Gloria Holden), daughter of Dracula, and by cremating her father's corpse, she hopes to break the vampire curse that has taken hold of her.
After this course of action fails, the Countess seeks the help of noted psychiatrist Jeffrey Garth, who might be able to free her of her ghastly urges; but when Garth refuses to co-operate any longer, Zaleska kidnaps the doctor's beautiful assistant and whisks her to Transylvania, agreeing to release the poor girl only if Garth becomes her partner in death. This upsets the Countess's loyal assistant Sandor (Irving Pichel) so much that he loses the plot and goes mad with a bow and arrow...
Dracula's Daughter, the follow-up to Tod Browning's 1931 Dracula, has me a little bit confused: is Countess Marya supposed to be the biological offspring of the infamous bloodsucker? Is it even possible for a dead man to procreate (surely his sperm would be a little on the inactive side)? Or is the titular character simply a victim of Dracula's bite who has come to see the Count as her 'creator'—her father figure, so to speak? I just don't know: the film sure doesn't explain facts.
What I am clear about, however, is that this sequel is seriously lacking in bite: high on Gothic atmosphere but very low on excitement, horror, or particularly memorable moments, I found it to be even less engaging than its creaky predecessor, which at least had Lugosi doing his best to exude an atmosphere of evil, mugging away menacingly whilst delivering his iconic lines of dialogue. Holden's character, in contrast, is a rather pathetic creature of the night, who spends most of her time moping around morosely, longing to be normal instead of embracing her power and willingly abusing us mere mortals like any self-respecting vampire would do. In short, she gives the family a bad name!
Director Lambert Hillyer should receive some kudos for giving his lead character lesbian undertones, leading the way for all those buxom, sapphic Euro-horror lovelies of the 60s and 70s, and he does manage one of two fairly effective scenes set amidst swirling fog; points are lost, however, for the unnecessary inclusion of light relief in the form of Claud Allister as Garth's chinless toff friend, and Billy Bevan, Halliwell Hobbes and E.E. Clive as comedy coppers, whose laugh-free buffoonery doesn't suit the film at all.
After this course of action fails, the Countess seeks the help of noted psychiatrist Jeffrey Garth, who might be able to free her of her ghastly urges; but when Garth refuses to co-operate any longer, Zaleska kidnaps the doctor's beautiful assistant and whisks her to Transylvania, agreeing to release the poor girl only if Garth becomes her partner in death. This upsets the Countess's loyal assistant Sandor (Irving Pichel) so much that he loses the plot and goes mad with a bow and arrow...
Dracula's Daughter, the follow-up to Tod Browning's 1931 Dracula, has me a little bit confused: is Countess Marya supposed to be the biological offspring of the infamous bloodsucker? Is it even possible for a dead man to procreate (surely his sperm would be a little on the inactive side)? Or is the titular character simply a victim of Dracula's bite who has come to see the Count as her 'creator'—her father figure, so to speak? I just don't know: the film sure doesn't explain facts.
What I am clear about, however, is that this sequel is seriously lacking in bite: high on Gothic atmosphere but very low on excitement, horror, or particularly memorable moments, I found it to be even less engaging than its creaky predecessor, which at least had Lugosi doing his best to exude an atmosphere of evil, mugging away menacingly whilst delivering his iconic lines of dialogue. Holden's character, in contrast, is a rather pathetic creature of the night, who spends most of her time moping around morosely, longing to be normal instead of embracing her power and willingly abusing us mere mortals like any self-respecting vampire would do. In short, she gives the family a bad name!
Director Lambert Hillyer should receive some kudos for giving his lead character lesbian undertones, leading the way for all those buxom, sapphic Euro-horror lovelies of the 60s and 70s, and he does manage one of two fairly effective scenes set amidst swirling fog; points are lost, however, for the unnecessary inclusion of light relief in the form of Claud Allister as Garth's chinless toff friend, and Billy Bevan, Halliwell Hobbes and E.E. Clive as comedy coppers, whose laugh-free buffoonery doesn't suit the film at all.