Francis Ford Coppola's 1992 softcore porn adaptation of Bram Stoker's "Dracula" seems like a bunch of 14-year-old boys got their hands on a camera for the first time, googled how to do cheap practical special effects, and then forced their friends to act in it doing laughable foreign accents.
It’s weird that one of those immature boys made "The Godfather" and the other was Hannibal Lecter. But, it's true. And it's weird that this movie won three Oscars. It's not weird, however, that Winona Ryder and Keanu Reeves were the friends asked to do foreign accents, though. That one made perfect sense and it’s unintentional comedic effect is the best part of this movie by far.
So what was advertised as a very faithful retelling of the famous 1897 book is actually an absurd, campy bastardization. The strong heroine of the novel is instead made to be a starry-eyed ingénue (played lazily by Winona Ryder), and the evil villain, Count Dracula (played by Gary Oldman—who is chewing more scenery here than necks), is made to be some sympathetic, deep-down sweetheart who only wants to make love, not blood.
Um, no.
Then we have one of the greatest film actors of all time, Sir Anthony Hopkins, turning in the worst performance of his career as Van Helsing, who is used primarily as comic relief in this one—and to explain all the dozens of rules the audience has to know (but then the movie disregards completely).
There's a bunch of boobs, buckets of blood, and boatloads of bull honky, but beware, because, boy oh boy, Bram's baby has been blackened not brightened.
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