Hoping for the horror to end

‘The most Christian show on TV’ is how one reviewer described this latest production from Stephen Moffat (writer of Dr Who from 2005–2008) and Mark Gatiss (creators together of the wildly successful Sherlock).

It was much trailed over Christmas and ran through three 90-minute episodes, beginning on New Year’s Day, with an accompanying documentary about the history of Dracula productions. 1 January might seem aeons past when you read this, but Dracula is still there on iPlayer and, if you can’t be bothered to watch it, you’ll see similar patterns and ideas in many contemporary TV crime and period dramas.

So, Dracula. Perhaps it was the obvious next step for this pair of writers – take a well-known and often retold 19th-century story and adapt it for the 21st century; play with our expectations of the genre; ham up the ridiculous elements and (of course) subvert sex and gender stereotypes. Reinventing a classic isn’t something new. To take elements that are familiar and twist them, even to include contemporary ideas, is what Shakespeare was doing back in the 16th century, after all. He didn’t invent his own stories, but took well-known ones and told them afresh. What this practice does highlight, then, is our current preoccupations, as well as some of the latent themes within the book.

Diminishing evil

Gatiss and Moffat take a really minor character from the book, nun Agatha, and turn her into a powerful antagonist for Dracula. Showing a distinct lack of faith, she delivers witty one-liners and takes control of all situations. In fact, we discover that her name is Van Helsing – the name of the arch vampire hunter of the book. It is her representation that led the reviewer quoted above to say that this is a ‘Christian’ show. I’m not convinced by his argument. While Agatha does decide she now has proof of God’s existence, faith is really of little significance. She exists as a kind of Sherlock Holmes figure. Phenomenally bright, Agatha engages in banter with the baddy and retains a cool distance from those around her. In the end she concludes that Dracula fears the crucifix because he is scared of dying. Poor thing. So, rather than the series commending the power of religion or reckoning with the nature of evil, it diminishes it. The nuns are seen as a bit of a joke – at one stage, as a nun preaches about fear (expressing some worthy sentiments) she is interrupted by Dracula, who pantomime-style decapitates her. There’s no terror here, just hammed-up horror.

While most contemporary critics major on the morally blurred lines and interest in transgression they find in the book, Bram Stoker (amidst the sometimes-silly melodrama) shows the fight against vampires as a simple moral crusade. It feels as though Moffat and Gatiss have been reading these critics. And perhaps, even if you don’t watch Dracula, you’ll recognise this bent in other BBC dramas: the baddies are nearly as sympathetic, or at least as clever and charming, as the goodies. Evil is really the result of psychological damage and crossing moral boundaries is exciting rather than dangerous. This feels like a world bereft of solid goodness, with diversity and tolerance the greatest values. It feels very 21st century.

Sadness and no satisfaction

But, of course, there is still gospel truth in this world. Life can be murkily complicated and victims do at times go on to become perpetrators. Sin is alluring. No one is pure. With no God in evidence, this blackly comic world is nearly absurd. The resolutions then, that come at the end of such dramas, can often feel other-worldly. Sometimes music rises up and speeches are delivered. The tone changes significantly, becoming sombre, because almost out of nowhere some kind of justice emerges. The deeply flawed wise-guy (or girl, in this case) has to provide a solution or a salvation somehow. We are left with a sadness and a lack of satisfaction, because such endings are never complete. There is no hope or real change in a morally ambiguous world.

The gospel, though, is different. As God speaks, as He enters His world, clarity comes to the complex and the confused. The ending is satisfying because justice comes from one who is just. The one who shows grace at the end has always been gracious. Evil, which is more than messiness and oppression, which really is a mystery, is truly disarmed.