I was lucky enough to receive an early screener of Dracula: A Love Tale, written and directed by Luc Besson, and this is one of those films that sits with you after the credits roll. Not because it’s flawless—far from it—but because it makes choices. Real ones. Bold ones. And whether they fully work or not, they’re interesting enough that I kept thinking about them long after the film ended.
Let’s get this out of the way first: this is not a horror movie. There’s no blood-soaked spectacle, no over-the-top Dracula theatrics, and no intention of scaring you. That was never the point. This film is a gothic love story. Full stop. If you go in expecting horror, you’re going to be disappointed. If you go in curious about obsession, longing, and the extremes of love, you’re much more likely to connect with what Besson is doing here.
The story itself stays fairly close to the Dracula mythology we already know. And honestly, that’s a good thing. It doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel or pretend the original story never existed. Instead, it takes liberties in quieter, more deliberate ways. Enough to feel fresh, not so much that it feels disrespectful to the source. You recognize the bones of the story immediately, but the way it’s presented gives you a different emotional entry point.
What really sets this film apart is the performance by Caleb Landry Jones. He is, without hesitation, one of the best Draculas I’ve seen. There’s something deeply haunting about him, but it’s not in a loud or showy way. He plays Dracula as a man who is desperate, pained, and utterly consumed by love. It’s tragic. It’s magnetic. And yes, he’s gorgeous—but that’s almost beside the point. His entire physicality in the role feels intentional. Every look, every pause, every moment of stillness matters. For his performance alone, this film is worth watching.
The supporting cast—Zoë Bleu, Christoph Waltz, and Matilda De Angelis—rounds out the world nicely, but this is very much Jones’ film. Everything orbits around his Dracula and his devotion to Elisabetha. The love story is where the movie leans hardest, and it doesn’t shy away from that. This is about the lengths someone will go to for love, even when that love becomes destructive. Especially then.
Visually, the film is unmistakably Luc Besson. If you’re familiar with his work—The Fifth Element in particular—you’ll recognize the stylization immediately. The film is highly choreographed, sometimes to the point where you might catch yourself thinking, What am I watching right now? Battle scenes feel almost like dance numbers. Even the marching has an intentional rhythm to it. But oddly enough, I didn’t mind it. It felt like part of the artistic language of the film rather than a distraction.
The costumes are on another level. The opening armor scene is genuinely insane in the best way. From what I read afterward, hundreds of costumes were created for this production, and it shows. The detail is stunning. The cinematography often feels like you’re staring at a moving painting—very gothic, very romantic—but then there are these unexpected bursts of color that cut through the darkness. It’s a reminder that this story isn’t as bleak as you might expect. There’s beauty woven into the tragedy.
The score, composed by Danny Elfman, was an interesting surprise. While watching the film, there were moments where the music stood out, but it didn’t fully register as “Elfman” in the way you might expect. Afterward, learning that he used a 90-piece orchestra made me want to go back and rewatch the film with that in mind, to really pick apart where that richness lives in the score. There are musical moments that feel heightened, almost theatrical, but again—it didn’t bother me. It fit the tone of the film.
Is the film perfect? No. Some of the effects, particularly elements like the gargoyles, feel a bit limited, likely due to budget. But I didn’t find that distracting. The imperfections didn’t pull me out of the experience. If anything, they reinforced the idea that this film is more focused on mood, emotion, and atmosphere than technical spectacle.
I’m giving Dracula: A Love Tale a solid three and a half out of five stars. It’s not what I expected based on the trailer, but that wasn’t a dealbreaker. I enjoyed it. I’d watch it again—especially now that I’ve had time to process it and think about what I might have missed the first time around.
If you’re a Dracula fan, this is worth your time. Go in with the right expectations. Don’t look for horror. Look for romance, obsession, and a beautifully stylized take on a story you already know.
Dracula: A Love Tale opens in North America on February 6.
