Luc Besson’s Dracula: A Love Tale is certainly a different beast. Just when fans of the vampire tale think they’re getting another retelling of Bram Stoker’s classic, what’s presented here begins elsewhere. It offers a great deal of backstory that may have been imagined but never fully dramatized. The novel itself is structured as a series of letters, memos, and recordings recounting how the Count made it to London.
In this auteur’s take, the broader backdrop remains familiar, but the narrative lens shifts. The universe is largely set in France, though any revolutionary parallels feel faint at best. Instead, the focus rests on the Ottoman invasion of Romania, and how young Prince Vladimir (Caleb Landry Jones) vows to save his people from this encroaching tyranny. His fear is not only for his homeland but for Elisabeta’s (Zoë Bleu) safety. Should the enemy breach their borders, she would be taken prisoner. He knows this all too well.
Those familiar with Romanian history will recall both he and his brother were delivered to the enemy to secure an uneasy peace by their father. After coups and political wranglings, honour was restored and he was hailed a hero. He belongs to the Order of the Dragon, a medieval chivalric order established to fight those who oppose Christianity.
That’s a detail not fully explained despite all the iconography being splashed all over the introduction. Without that context, viewers unfamiliar with the lore may find the introduction puzzling.
Although he’s considered a saviour by tradition, including his own belief that God cannot disown him, Elisabeta’s “accidental” death turns him. With her gone, even immortality feels meaningless. By renouncing his faith, one rooted in the acceptance of suffering, Buddha he is not, but the devil he will become.
Through this fall he gains eternal life. He cannot die, and the only way to restore his youth is by drinking human blood. Comparisons to folklore and Francis Ford Coppola’s film on the curse are inevitable. Besson draws from one without fully bridging the two, assuming audiences will bridge the gap. From the ancient, mummified visage to the youthful prince, the aesthetic echoes are easy to recognise, though not always contextualised.
Where the film sharply distinguishes itself is in performance. Jones leans fully into sinister theatricality, chewing scenery with the same relish Benny brought to The Mummy. There’s darkness in his presence, though it manifests less like the cold menace of Viggo the Carpathian and more like a fusion of those heightened archetypes. His dialogue is knowingly camp, creating moments where the absurdity becomes part of the fun rather than a distraction. When the gargoyles evoke memories of The Mummy Returns with their unfinished look and quick moments on screen, I have to wonder if the film was rushed to release. That admission was made by Brendon Fraser, who now jokes it’s part of this film’s charm. Thankfully, we’re spared mummies with mouths the size of Jonah’s whale.
Vlad’s belief that Elisabeta’s soul will reincarnate drives the narrative forward, turning the film into a centuries-spanning search for lost love. In that regard, comparisons to Stephen Sommers’ The Mummy series feel apt. Upon his awakening, he must find her next incarnation.
As in many adaptations, Mina (also Bleu) remains central to Dracula’s purpose. Without Van Helsing (Christoph Waltz), no one would fully grasp the looming threat circling Paris. Waltz proves just as scene-stealing as the Count himself.
As a result, Jonathan Harker’s (Ewens Abid) narrative weight is reduced. He lacks the investigative momentum seen in prior interpretations. Still, one late scene redeems him as that silent soul who knows what he must do. His deadpan delivery makes the fight with a succubus surprisingly effective. Although this creature is not Lucy Westenra cursed, her archetype exists. It’s easy to spot and I won’t spoil this detail and how Renfield is reinvented.
I won’t spoil specifics, but the reinterpretation works better than expected. It may soften the traditional impact of “Blood is Life,” yet the idea of Dracula’s presence spreading through the aether like perfume, drawing admirers into his orbit, proves thematically effective.
Although imperfect, the film remains thoroughly entertaining. It plays like a gothic romance engineered for a Valentine’s Day corridor, equal parts tragic love story and spectacle. The most noticeable flaw lies in the digital elements, which feel more visible than seamlessly blended. With its North American release landing near the season, I’m simply glad it reached these shores at all. Otherwise, I might’ve been tempted to storm the continent myself. Some European filmmakers understand eternal love in ways Hollywood rarely dares, at least without breaking into full musical numbers.
3½ Stars out of 5
Luc Bresson’s Dracula Movie Trailer
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