Main cast: Luke Roberts (Dracula), Kelly Wenham (Alina), Stephen Hogan (Renfield), Ben Robson (Lucian), Holly Earl (Esme), Richard Ashton (Andros), and Jon Voight (Leonardo Van Helsing)
Director: Pearry Teo
The late Pearry Reginald Teo made headlines as the first Singaporean to direct a Hollywood movie, which is technically true in a “Sure, you DID it, but at what cost?” way.
You see, Mr Teo’s filmography looked like what would happen if Albert Pyun got a $500 budget increase and access to a Costco-sized green screen warehouse. His movies didn’t just use obvious green screens; they celebrated these green screens like a drunk uncle showing off his new jet ski at Thanksgiving.
Dracula: Prince of Darkness is Exhibit A in the case of “How Did This Get Made?”.
The biggest mystery isn’t the plot, it’s how Jon Voight, Academy Award winner and guy who presumably has an agent, ended up in this thing. Was it a lost bet? Blackmail? Did he owe someone a really big favor? Because nothing — and I mean nothing —explains why a legitimate actor agreed to play a character named Leonardo Van Helsing.
Yes. Leonardo. Like the Ninja Turtle. Or Da Vinci. But Van Helsing. It’s like naming your vampire hunter Michelangelo Buffy or Donatello Blade. I’m convinced Mr Voight saw that character name, felt his soul leave his body, and then signed the contract anyway because his accountant was standing behind him with a cattle prod.
This movie is structured exactly like a video game — not a GOOD video game, but one of those janky RPGs where you can see the quest markers glitching through the walls. Things just… happen. In sequence. Without reason or buildup. Dracula, but make it random.
Here’s the “plot”. Sisters Alina and Esme possess a magical MacGuffin called the Lightbringer (not to be confused with Lightbright, the children’s toy, though honestly that would make as much sense). The Lightbringer is apparently the only weapon that can harm Dracula, which immediately raises the question: how did anyone ever fight Dracula before this thing existed? Thoughts and prayers?
Anyway, they’re attacked by Dracula’s minion Wrath — yes, that’s his name, because subtlety died in pre-production — until they’re “rescued” by a band of thieves led by Lucian, who immediately steals the Lightbringer and Wrath attacks him, and Lucian suddenly discovers he’s The Chosen One™ who can activate the Lightbringer, and then Leonardo Van Helsing shows up and honestly just… go with it. Don’t think. Thinking is the enemy here. Let the nonsense wash over you like a tide of expired Mountain Dew.
The acting is surprisingly decent, which makes this whole thing even sadder. These people can act! They just happen to be trapped in a movie that looks like someone’s senior thesis project at Hollywood Upstairs Medical College: Film School Division. The sets are green-screened to within an inch of their lives. You can practically see the seams. The most expensive parts of this production were clearly the opening and closing credits, which probably consumed 80% of the budget while the actual movie got filmed in someone’s backyard with leftover Halloween decorations.
Jon Voight’s performance is uncharacteristically subdued. Not because he’s doing thoughtful character work, but because you can literally watch his spirit evacuate his body in real-time. His eyes say, “I’ve made a terrible mistake.” His posture screams, “My agent is fired.” He delivers his lines with the enthusiasm of someone reading the terms and conditions on his contract. This is a man who knows he’s participating in a crime against cinema and is trying to leave as few fingerprints as possible.
The movie moves at a pace that can only be described as lackadaisical, with zero proper build-up. Fight scenes look like they were choreographed by someone who once saw a martial arts movie through a fogged-up window. There’s no tension, no excitement—just people moving through space while the green screen commits war crimes behind them.
Wait! There’s a twist! And it’s the same twist that infects every modern Dracula adaptation like a virus: they turn him into a lovelorn idiot.
The second Dracula realizes that Alina is his dead wife reincarnated (because of course she is), he starts making googly eyes and puppy-dog faces like a Victorian teenager who just discovered feelings. He orders his barely obedient minions not to harm her and then proceeds to engage in the most embarrassing display of simp behavior since… well, since every other Dracula movie in the last 20 years.
The climax, if we can call it that without laughing, features Dracula turning on his own monions to protect Alina, getting mortally wounded in the process, and then dying because he doesn’t want to live without her.
That’s nice, but he is an immortal vampire that can heal himself. Alina is clearly ready to ditch her friends and go full Team Edward anyway! Just… heal? Stay alive? Date her? Why is dying the romantic option here? It’s like saying “I love you so much I’m going to throw myself into a wood chipper instead of just asking you to prom!”
The pièce de résistance — the cherry on this garbage sundae — is the final scene. Alina sits vigil over Dracula’s corpse in a ruined castle — hope she packed snacks and has good Wi-Fi, or this is going to get REAL boring REAL fast — waiting for him to rise again. She then delivers this absolute banger of a line:
“Heroes die, death is eternal… but real love is forever!”
I… what? Isn’t “eternal” and “forever” the same thing? If death is eternal, then he’s eternally dead, which means she’s going to be sitting in that musty castle watching a corpse for all of time. Does UberEats deliver there? Is there plumbing? Has anyone thought this through?
One is tempted to say Dracula: Prince of Darkness has more style than substance, but that would require it to have style. The special effects are special in the way that a participation trophy is special. The only entertainment value comes from watching a genuinely decent cast slowly realize they’re trapped in cinematic quicksand, their eyes pleading with the camera: “Tell my family I loved them.”
