I cannot imagine another actor pulling off what Cushing did. What he did was, essentially, put Darth Vader in his place whenever he damn well pleased. Now, I know what you're thinking: The Emperor did the same thing, many times. Yes, but the Emperor was a Sith Lord, who made Vader his apprentice. Tarkin was a goddamn imperial pensioner, devoting a lifetime to military service. No force, no Jedi babble, no ancient religion. No, Tarkin belongs to the same class of force-choke guinea pigs that Vader has such a fun time with throughout the original trilogy. He had no physical way to control Vader and yet had no problem saying, in so many words, "All right, Vader, knock it off and sit down, we got work to do."
So that was my introduction to Peter Cushing and it was a great one. But later, much later, I finally got to see all the Hammer films he did, including all the ones with the great Christopher Lee, and I was justifiably amazed. I was amazed because Cushing did something I didn't think possible. First, with The Curse of Frankenstein, he took one of the most well established gothic horror stories in history, one that had been published and republished a thousand times, one that had been adapted to film countless others, and reinvented it as a Cushing original. I do not exaggerate when I tell you that no matter how many times I read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, how many adaptations I watch, or how many parodies I see, there is only one Victor Frankenstein, and it's not the one Shelley created, it's the one Cushing did.
If you've seen The Curse of Frankenstein, you know that Victor Frankenstein as portrayed by Peter Cushing is, quite simply, a son of a bitch. This is not Colin Clive nor even the obsessed but sympathetic character of the book, cascading the tragedy of his creation with one careless and cowardly error after another. This Frankenstein has the viewer, almost from the start, rooting for anyone but him. He is the protagonist of the story and yet, the antagonist as well. He's the Jake LaMotta of horror, a character you can't turn away from but you can't sympathize with either. He's a trainwreck of humanity, made worse by the fact that he considers nothing he does wrong because he considers himself so much better than the rest of us from the moment he walks in the room. He's arrogant, smug and violent. Christopher Lee's monster is almost superfluous to the story and for good reason: Cushing's Frankenstein doesn't need to create a monster, he already is one.
A year later, in Horror of Dracula, Cushing did it again. He took another character, well established from the original source (Bram Stoker's Dracula) and its many adaptations, and made it his own. Van Helsing, like Victor Frankenstein, is much different on paper and in the many film adaptations than the Van Helsing Cushing created on film. And once again, like Frankenstein, the Van Helsing Cushing created - younger, leaner, more focused and direct, free from flightiness or extravagance - became the go to Van Helsing for the genre. After The Brides of Dracula (still my favorite Hammer production of all time) I could never see Van Helsing portrayed by anyone else again without thinking they were doing it wrong.
On this day we celebrate Peter Cushing's 100th birthday but I celebrate something more. I celebrate an actor so skilled at his craft, and so confident in his abilities, that he could take on long established, completely defined roles like Frankenstein and Van Helsing and make them his own. And in making them his own, make them the standard for all to follow. Many actors have had the chance since to create a new standard. All have failed. Happy Birthday to Peter Cushing, 100 today, and the standard bearer still.
Peter Cushing Centennial Blogathon, hosted by Pierre Fournier, running from May 25th through May 31st.