In a post-TWILIGHT world, perhaps there is no better time than now to re-introduce Dracula, as Bram Stoker envisioned him, to the movie-going public. A true Prince of Darkness, his tale should be one of Old World tyranny forged in the flames of war, a noble predator barely able to contain a feral bloodthirst. It should be about animal magnetism thrusting its trouser bulge toward the face of repressed Victorian high society. A beast in velvet.
And what better filmmaker to do so than super-stylish purveyor of violence as art, Dario Argento? What could go wrong?