I love Dracula.
Have I mentioned that before?
My affection for Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel is well-documented
(both on this blog and off of it), so I won’t put you nice people through the
ordeal that is hearing me blather on about it. But believe me, I definitely could.
 |
| "…which is why our culture's collective understanding of Van Helsing as a vampire hunter is fundamentally misguided. But anyway, Quincey Morris…" |
Suffice to say that when the news broke last year that a new
Dracula movie was on the horizon, I was probably one of the few to respond
with… well, pretty much anything other than an eye roll.
When I sat down to watch Dracula
Untold for the first time, I was genuinely excited. As a rule, movies
usually leave me feeling one of three ways – unambiguously entertained,
pleasantly surprised, or intrigued by questionable decision-making – and I had
a good feeling that this film was going to result in one of the latter two.
Instead, the movie did something that very few movies are able to do.
It disappointed me.
Dracula Untold, simply
put, is not a good movie. That’s a truth that I was fully prepared to face, and
it probably won’t surprise many of you either. But there’s more to it than
that, because – and this is what hurts me the most – it didn’t have to be this
way. Dracula Untold, as a finished
product, is completely forgettable, but it is, at the same time, the first
draft of an interesting, engaging, and possibly even great film.
Now, I’m not suggesting that we missed out on a possible new
classic of the action horror genre here – as an origin story for one of the
most famous and self-explanatory movie monsters of all time, the film was never
going to be ‘necessary.’ Still, there’s a definite sense that an ideal version
of this movie has something thoughtful and relatively new to say about its
subject matter; closing in on two centuries of mainstream vampire fiction, that
would have been an achievement in and of itself.
I guess by this point we should get to what the movie is
actually about.
Dracula Untold is
the story of Vlad Tepes, a former child soldier who served in the Turkish army and
grew into a feared warrior, earning the nickname “the Impaler.” Now the ruler
of Wallachia, present-day Vlad has put his fighting days behind him, until his
childhood-friend-turned-sultan Mehmed II decides that he wants a new batch of soldiers,
and demands that Vlad’s subjects hand over their children as tribute. This is
unacceptable to Vlad, especially after Mehmed increases his demand to include
Vlad’s own son, Rickon Stark.
 |
| By far, the most irreplaceable Stark. |
Powerless to fight back against the Turkish empire on his
own, Vlad comes up with a desperate plan, and makes a bargain with – I kid you
not – a local vampire played by Game of Thrones’ Charles Dance (easily the best
part of the movie, despite being given sod all to actually do). In a move that he
hopes will free him from his imprisonment in a mountain cave, Count Tywin lets
Vlad drink his blood, essentially granting our hero a free trial of vampirism.
Vlad gets all the familiar powers we’ve come to expect in a creature of the
night, but only for three days. The catch? Those new abilities come with a
powerful desire to drink human blood, which Vlad must resist if he wants to
regain his humanity. If he gives in, the vampirism will become permanent and
his maker will go free.
That’s… actually a pretty great hook, even if we can all guess
the outcome from the word go. It places a clear deadline on the action, gives
our protagonist a fully justified crisis of identity, and ups the stakes (heh) to
include not only the fate of Vlad’s people, but of his immortal soul. Mining
drama from a premise like that should be a piece of cake.
Sadly, the movie ends up treating drama the way vampires
treat garlic; there’s barely a trace of follow through to be found in regard to
any of those ideas. Vlad’s actions, which ought to be a constant race against
the clock, lack any sense of urgency until literally seconds before his three
days are up, and while I’m willing to take it on faith that the writers didn’t
skip or add a day anywhere, the audience is never as clearly oriented on the
timeline as we should be.
The temptation angle, somehow, is handled even worse. Save
for a single moment when he’s distracted by his wife’s neck, good ol’ Vlad is
one vampire who doesn’t seem remotely interested in drinking any blood, let alone the blood of his
loved ones. Perhaps it’s reluctance on the writers’ part to have their
protagonist show weakness, or to waver in his righteous crusade, knowing that
the deck is already stacked against him in terms of sympathy. Maybe there was
simply no room in the edit for it. Whatever the reason, the unbearable craving
that the Master Vampire described – and which offered so much promise – is nowhere
to be found, replaced by a halfhearted suggestion, a host suspicious that his
houseguest is just being polite. “Are you sure you’re not thirsty? There’s
plenty of blood in the fridge. Maybe later?”
Van Helsing says: Ah, yes, here we see the so famous film adage of ‘show,
not tell.’ We scientific-minded people of today, we are a cynical lot; we do
not believe what we cannot see with our own eyes. It is not enough for us to simply hear that our hero will soon pass through the bitter waters – that will make us
fear for them, but the fear must be grounded in the real. If we see that the hero undergo his so-ominous ordeal with no
difficulties, or not undergo it at all, our sympathies are lost. We feel that we have
been tricked, and may turn our backs on the very film that so dearly needs our
investment.
Thank you, Professor.
It’s not often that you’ll hear me asking for a movie to be
longer – and make no mistake, Dracula
Untold’s breezy, 92-minute runtime is a major point in its favor – but I do
feel that this film would have benefitted hugely from having more room to
breathe. As it stands, everything from plot to characterization is utterly bare
bones, function trumping form all the way down the line. But then, maybe I’m
being too harsh. After all, besides the five key players, the film’s supporting
cast is jam-packed with such memorable characters as ‘a priest,’ or ‘bearded
man that Dracula talks to more than once.’ And really, who could forget ‘kid that the bad guy’s henchman was mean to that one time?’ I know I can’t!
 |
| There he is, maybe! |
All joking aside, there are enough recurring faces and hints
of subplots buried in this film that I truly do want to engage with it on a deeper level. And it wouldn’t have
taken much to make that possible. Just give me a handful of scenes in which the
characters live their lives. Let them have conversations
rather than exchanges of relevant information. Give someone – anyone –
a personality that runs deeper than one character trait (or two, in Vlad’s
case), and I’d have been sold.
This movie is genuinely filled with cool ideas – Mehmed,
knowing that his enemy is a vampire, forces Vlad to fight him in a tent filled
with silver coins and mirrors that reflect the sun; that’s cool! – but nobody along the way seemed to realize that cool ideas
aren’t enough. What we really need is a reason to care.
Even now, I hold that so many of these flaws could have been
forgiven if the film had only managed to nail its thematic arc. Dracula Untold is, first and foremost, the
story of a man willing to sacrifice everything for his people; the fact that
the main character is Dracula should – if we’re meeting the film on its own
terms – be secondary to that. And it’s not only possible, but easy, to pay off that
arc while still making room for the character’s ultimate fate. Try this on for
size:
Vlad forces Mehmed’s
army to retreat and ensures the safety of his subjects, but is unable to save
his son, who Mehmed kills out of spite. Enraged, Vlad drinks Mehmed’s blood and
lets the demon inside consume him. He almost turns on his people, but the last
vestige of his humanity holds him back, and he is successfully driven away,
forced to live in exile, feared and hated by those he traded his soul to
protect.
Yes, it’s trite, but hey, I made it up on the spot. Broadly
speaking, at least, it’s tragic in the right ways, and – if you’ll permit me to
bring it up just once – is in keeping with a major theme of the Stoker novel:
that it’s possible to fear and hate a monster while still having sympathy for,
or even loving, the person that it used to be.
Of course, this movie doesn’t have that ending. Instead, Dracula Untold has Vlad fail to save his people outright: the
Turks essentially steamroll them. Vlad drinks his dying wife’s blood – at her
own urging, no less, which… you know what that’s going to do to him, right?
This isn’t a Popeye/spinach situation – and then turns the few remaining survivors
into vampires so that together they can achieve a sort of posthumous revenge.
I’ll say this for that ending: it’s unorthodox, and a lot
tougher to pull off, but it still works in theory. In fact, it might be better,
since it makes Vlad end on a more villainous note, taking the curse he
willingly accepted and forcing it upon others who had no choice in the matter.
It also gives him an evil army and keeps him in control of his territory. So,
yeah. Kudos on taking the unconventional route.
Except that things don't end there. After achieving his revenge and saving his son (basically the film's only survivor) Vlad immediately – and
I mean immediately – kills his vampire
spawn all over again because they’re too dangerous to be left alive… er, undead.
The film tries to justify this by presenting the newly-made vampires as
complete monsters – and Vlad does attempt to kill himself as well, so I can’t
cry hypocrite – but their sudden shift is so jarring next to Vlad’s still
completely unchanged personality that it only underscores how little attention Dracula Untold pays to its details. If
you want to end your movie by turning your protagonist into something inhuman,
you have to commit to it. By violating the bodies of those he supposedly loved,
and then playing the holier-than-thou card in order to destroy them, Vlad’s final ‘noble act’ is arguably
the worst thing he does in the entire film.
Dracula Untold is
a movie that clearly wants us to come out of the theater asking ourselves tough
questions, like “Can you make yourself a hero by becoming a monster?” or “How
far would I go to protect my family?”
To its credit, the film does raise
those questions, and others, but they’re so clumsily handled that we’re much
more likely to come out asking questions the filmmakers never intended.
Questions like: “Could you really use a swarm of bats as a bludgeoning weapon?”
 |
| I mean, obviously you could weaponize them in the abstract, but smashing them into people? And from the sky, no less! Where does that come from? |
OR IS IT?
One final thing, and then I promise I’ll let you go. Even
I’m surprised that I managed to go on this long without mentioning that Dracula Untold was intended to
kick-start a new shared universe of Universal Monsters reboot films.
(Apparently Count Tywin is supposed to be this universe’s Nick Fury, which is a
sentence that not only makes sense, but that you understood, because this is an
absolutely wonderful time to be alive.) Again, I’m sure that when many of you
heard that news – either just now or some time in the past year – your eyes
almost rolled themselves out of your skull, but I’m willing to give Universal a
complete pass on this one. After all, when you think about it, the Universal
Monsters are the OG shared universe. They were doing shared universes before
shared universes were cool.
 |
| Counterpoint: I dare you to say that this isn't cool. |
I’m excited to see what comes out of it, and I hope it leads
to some interesting things, unlikely as that may be. The only bad news is that,
as far as kicking off a shared universe goes, Dracula Untold is more Man of
Steel than Iron Man.
|
| Seriously, though, wouldn't you just end up killing all your bats on the first go around? The logistics here are nonexistent. |
