A great story is always retold at different points in time. Apart from its popularity, there is also the need to contextualise a text. Dracula has had its bloodthirsty runs, courtesy filmmakers Tod Browning and Francis Ford Coppola. There have been some celluloid aberrations—dense heads messing around with the king of the netherworld. But this Dracula surely takes the cake for being dubiously funny.

Yet there was enough to set the ball rolling in a different direction: A civil war in Romania, a kung fu expert, a couple of beautiful dames, and patches of good cinematography. A twist in the tale was discovering Dracula among men no less cruel than him. (They kill in the name of freedom, in the name of grand political ideas).

But Lussier’s Dracula (Rutger Hauer) is shy, almost gentlemanly, buying his blood, er, alive bodies, from rebels and quenching thirst in the safety of his castle. Till Jason Scott Lee (Father Uffizi) and Jason London (Luke) arrive and upset his feast. To finally grab his collar, the duo has to wade through a cluster of rebels and a mini army of Dracula loyalists (all those who bear the twin marks on the neck). This gives Lussier enough fodder to indulge in some mindless violence—an attempt to show that Lee has diligently taken his martial arts lessons. And, Mr D is forced to bare his fangs and make a show of cruelty towards the end.

For the beauty quotient, there is Diane Neal in the role of a journalist. The film ensures that Dracula lives on. In the fourth part, if devil permits, Lee may fit into the cloak of the vampire. And Stoker would yet again squirm in shame.