Could it be that Coppola’s vampire film is as good as “The Godfather” and “The Godfather 2”? Why, surely. All three tell unspeakably sadly about an anti-hero on which his craze is based.
Nothing said in 1992 that the new Hollywood giant Francis Ford Coppola, which has been plagued by failures for ten (!) Years, could bring fresh blood to the fundamentally sophisticated universal studios top monster. And yet he did that. In sporty 127 minutes – today unthinkable – he tells of the “Prequel” in “Bram Stoker’s Dracula” about the “Prequel”. He committed a year before computer effects became the standard, the best make -up artists and disguised his undead as a liberace from hell. About Coppola’s trust in the unknown Gary “Who?” Oldman was laughed before the start of the shoot. But this was Oldman’s beginning as the main actor, he became the go-to-maniac of the 90s cinema. Today he is considered a king of his field; Nobody spoke about Anthony Hopkins’ van Helsing, just a year after “silence of the lambs”.
More than any other “Dracula” is a love story, and, perfidious, one in which Mina (Winona Ryder) remains loyal to the killed, shock mumified ghul, despite redemption from the vampire ban, turns away from the pretty fiancee Harker (Keanu Reeves). Who has ever dared to do such a Dracula film end?
The sufferings of the bitten virgins are diagnosed as hysteria in 1897, very Victorian England. But somewhere else, a change of time announces. In a wonderfully romantic sequence, Dracula Mina follows a new “kinematography” performance, where the “miracle of modern civilization” is presented. Previously, Dracula had herself filmed for a London street scene. That was-you can call the meta level-the birth of the bloodsucker as a cinema. And Coppola’s loving summary of a villain that he has been waiting for all his life (Plaion pictures).