It’s not that I object to a good slasher or gory movie from time to time, but when I really want a good spine-tingling fright, I turn to something in black and white.

1931’s “Dracula” is one of the great granddaddies of horror. Bela Lugosi stars as the enigmatic and seductive vampire preying on the beauties of London, with a special eye for the lovely Mina (Helen Chandler).

While “Dracula” has been remade at least a thousand times, there’s something about the “original” that is still very alluring. I say “original” because silent film fans will be familiar with 1922’s “Nosferatu” as the earliest rendition of Bram Stoker’s tale “Dracula.” For those who haven’t seen it, it is silent horror of the finest quality. Max Schreck is probably the most horrifyingly grotesque and terrifying vampire in film history. Nonetheless, there’s a more well-rounded terror brought to the screen in 1931’s “Dracula.” Bela’s natural Austro-Hungarian accent, double-jointed fingers and his intensely hypnotic gaze are major factors to this film’s fearful charms, but director Tod Browning’s moody use of shadows and lighting contribute heavily as well.

Culturally, I think most people conjure an image of Lugosi when thinking about Count Dracula. Most of the Draculas that have followed take his image in one way or another with the capes, widow’s peaks, decorations of nobility, etc. Yet before this movie was made Lugosi was a long shot to get the role. It is true that Lugosi developed and perfected the role as the star of the 1927 smash Broadway hit “Dracula,” but Hollywood was gunning for Lon Chaney to play the part. The Man of 1,000 Faces had never made a flop, and many studio execs wanted Chaney’s first talkie to be a surefire hit with “Dracula.” Sadly, Chaney died unexpectedly in 1930. Even after Chaney’s death, Lugosi wasn’t the top pick. An actor named Ian Keith was in serious contention for the part. Lugosi was eventually cast as Dracula when he agreed to an insultingly large pay cut.

Unlike early boogeymen such as Chaney and Boris Karloff, Lugosi needed very little make up for his most famous role. I think that is what makes him so frightening. He’s more real. He’s more dangerous. He doesn’t even really have fangs.

Certainly the film’s special effects are lacking by today’s standards. However, if it wasn’t for those early developments in trick photography showing Dracula walking through spider webs and transforming into and out of a bat, we might not be so far along today.

This film also delivers two of the greatest lines in horror cinema history, lines that are still quoted in pop culture today. The first comes from a smiling Dracula as wolves howl outside his Transylvanian castle: “Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make.”

The other line is Drac’s ominous refusal of a glass of wine: “I never drink–wine.”

Lugosi’s life story is just as fascinating as his blockbuster hit. He was born, not risen, Bela Ferenc Dezso Blasko almost exactly 127 years ago on Oct. 20, 1882 in Lugos, Austria-Hungary, now Lugoj, Romania. He ran away from home at the age of 12 to become an actor. He became a huge star of the stage in Budapest, where he had changed his name to Lugosi, which simply means “someone from Lugos.”

When World War I broke out, he volunteered to fight, becoming an infantry lieutenant. He was wounded three times and decorated. It was the ever-present pain from those wounds that would eventually lead him to an addiction of morphine and methadone.

He came to the States in 1920 to avoid persecution from the fascists who didn’t take kindly to his attempts to form an actors’ union.

To the world, he seemed like an overnight sensation when “Dracula” was released in 1931. In reality, he was already a veteran actor at the age of 47.

The other top horror star of the day was Boris Karloff, who was most famous for his roles in “Frankenstein” (1931) and “The Mummy” (1932).

Rumors still persist that Lugosi hated Karloff, but in truth they worked quite well together, and they worked together quite frequently. Some of their best films together were “The Black Cat” (1934), “The Raven” (1935) and “Son of Frankenstein” (1939).

Unlike Karloff, Lugosi was forever typecast as a vampire or villain. He also headlined dozens of B-list pictures such as the 1939 serial called “The Phantom Creeps.” His last A-list movie was the hilarious “Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein” in 1948.

Alcohol and painkillers had taken their toll on Lugosi by the 1950s. A new friendship struck up with a struggling director named Edward D. Wood Jr. led to Bela’s appearance in some of the most famous cult films of all time: “Glen or Glenda” (1953) and “Bride of the Monster” (1955). His stock-footage appearance in the famed “Plan 9 From Outer Space” was posthumous in 1959.

Bela entered immortality Aug. 16, 1956. His wife and son really did have him buried in his Dracula costume.

Bela might have had a sad end, but he left a wonderful legacy of his life’s work in movies. So if you want a good old-fashioned scare this Halloween, lace your windows and doors with garlic, grab a wooden stake, dim the lights and pop “Dracula” into your DVD or Blu-ray player.