Dracula (2025) Agonizes Over Eternal Limerence

One of my favorite college classes was a Vampire Studies course taught by an enthusiastically tenured professor whose primary assignments included reading the original Bram Stoker novel and substituting lectures for black-and-white films. Thanks to his idiosyncratic approach to filmology, I consider myself a bit of an expert on the subject, so I couldn’t have been happier when Cinemark’s latest Secret Movie turned out to be the newest depiction of the Prince of Darkness.

As it turns out, writer and director Luc Besson’s Dracula (played by Caleb Landry Jones) is a literal prince with an adoring princess to boot. Stripped of canon class and classic horror elements, Dracula 2025 is much more a Shakespearean love story than it is vampirically informed. While sympathetic approaches have worked for past adaptations, unfortunately, Dracula 2025 lacks substance to sink your teeth into.

…But I must admit, it had me in the first half with a charged, haunting, and playful opening sequence. The subsequent backstory is bolstered by rich colors set against impressive panoramic landscapes, and Dracula’s origins garner appropriate commiseration. However, once you get over the initial spectacle in search of narrative, you begin to notice that the movie is as self-absorbed as its namesake, favoring aesthetic indulgence at the expense of depth and momentum.

Every cinematic shot is treated as a monumental sequence and lingers past self-indulgence, consuming meaningful runtime that could have been better spent on development, especially considering the flurry of side characters missing both personality and motivation.

Mina, in particular, has the disposition of a Renaissance portrait and rejects the continuity needed to make her character make any kind of sense. The script treats her as nothing more than the original visual, and despite moderate chemistry, Mina and her undead lover fail to have a single substantive interaction in the 19th century.

That said, Dracula 2025’s shortcomings come mostly from the writing, as the cast delivers some surprisingly elevated performances. Matilda De Angelis’s initial portrayal of a sex-crazed, manic pixie dream bride with a psychopathic disorder is perhaps my favorite across all vampire media.

Jones is compelling as the creepy, decrepit recluse languishing in his castle, but falters as a star-crossed lover. He’s presented as an ardently affectionate man (albeit immortal), but somehow registers as emotionless. Dracula has been condemned by God to walk the planet eternally starved for the love that fueled his very existence, yet he appears to be kind of okay with it and has taken the opportunity to travel the world…? Where’s the anguish, the yearning? Has Besson ever been in love?

Though not particularly impactful, I feel compelled to mention that Dracula’s abject styling is borderline offensive. As an ancient, it hits the nail on the head, but young, then cursed, Dracula is very much Grima Wormtongue turned Count Wonka meets Willy Dracula.

At the end of the day, Besson’s version just isn’t my cup of tea. My Dracula is brutal, vain, insatiable, and powerful. An unyielding predator, herding humans like lambs to the slaughter. He serves as a lens for our darkest impulses, unrestrained and unapologetic.

And I fancy a good love story as much as the next sentimental romantic—but Besson’s Dracula is a neutered simp with an army of cartoon Gargoyles in place of a seductive coven. Were he alive today, he’d practice stoicism, don Gucci, and exist in a state best described as ‘down bad.’

**Post-review, I’d like to mention that Dracula 2025 isn’t as terrible as suggested by the second half of this review. Rather, it falls short of remarkable and suffices as perfectly average entertainment. It’s fun and definitely worth seeing for vampire aficionados, but don’t expect gravitas.