Main cast: Mitch Powell (Saint Dracula), Patricia Duarte (Clara), Daniel Shayler (Benjamin), Bill Hutchins (Father Nicholson), Suzanne Roche (Sister Agnes), Nicola Jeanne (Mother Superior), Anna Burkholder (Hay), and Anna Passey (Celeberant)
Director: Paul Rupesh
If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if a Bollywood melodrama and a B-grade vampire flick had an awkward one-night stand, Saint Dracula 3D is here to answer that burning question. Spoiler: it’s weird. Really weird.
So, here’s how it goes down. You accidentally stumble upon this movie, thinking, “Oh, a Dracula movie with a Bollywood spin? This should be interesting.” A quick online search suggests that’s exactly what you’re in for. But when the movie starts, you quickly realize that it feels more like an amateur’s take on a very Western Dracula movie—minus the charm, budget, and coherent plot.
What happened to the “Bollywood spin”? Where’s the Indian flair? The only thing Indian about this movie is the fact that it’s somehow still being made.
The film is incredibly self-indulgent. It lurches from a conventional narrative to bizarre, hallucinogenic scenes where you’ll wonder if the filmmakers were high on something stronger than just ambition. Oh, and did I mention the musical number? Yes, Saint Dracula 3D inexplicably bursts into song like it’s La La Land—if La La Land had been directed by someone who was trying to make a horror movie but couldn’t figure out which genre they were aiming for. What on earth?
Let’s talk about the acting. It’s abysmal. The cast members either sound completely lifeless (and Dracula, you know, is supposed to be the undead one) or they’re overacting in ways that make you question if they even read the script before showing up. My personal favorite is the nun, who has such wide eyes that it looks like she’s seen something truly terrifying off-camera—like, perhaps, realizing that this movie isn’t going to launch her career. And let’s face it, that’s the only thing truly terrifying in this film.
The pacing? Slow. Very, very slow. Characters shuffle from one end of the screen to the other at a pace that makes you wonder if they’re on a quest for a nap rather than any actual plot development.
Speaking of the plot, I still have no idea what it’s about. Honestly, I suspect no one involved in making the movie knows either. The dialogues are ponderous, pretentious, and say absolutely nothing profound by the end of it all. It’s as if some angsty teen wrote the script trying to sound deep but didn’t have the life experience to actually give the angst any substance. It’s a mess of self-important ramblings that will make you cringe and check your watch for the 10th time.
The production quality? Let’s just say it’s like what happens when Albert Pyun decides to get experimental and adds a few extra colors to his usual green-screen extravaganza. It’s like a fever dream you can’t wake up from, but you kind of want to because you’re not sure if you’re hallucinating or if this movie is just that bad.
But here’s the thing: there’s some weird charm to the whole disastrous execution. It’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion. You’re laughing at the expense of everyone involved, but maybe it’s the alcohol that’s making it funny. This is not a movie you should watch sober, unless you enjoy the sensation of existential dread creeping in with every frame.
Oh, and just to clear things up, don’t be distracted by the IMDb tags that suggest this movie is full of nudity. The nude scenes are, like the rest of the movie, ponderous and pretentious and make a gynecological exam look super-hot in comparison. If you were hoping for some steamy vampire action, you’re in for a rude awakening.
In the end, Saint Dracula 3D is like that weird cousin who shows up to the family reunion with a homemade vampire cape and an overzealous explanation of their “deep spiritual journey”. You’ll be cringing, but you won’t be able to look away. If you’re in the mood for something bizarre and unintentionally hilarious, this movie may just be your ticket to an evening of head-scratching fun. Just don’t expect to come out of it feeling enlightened or even remotely entertained in the usual sense.
