Luc Besson's Dracula: A Love Tale is a strange, kitschy, deeply sincere movie. And that sincerity is precisely what saves it.

The French director, best known for stylish action fare like Leon: The Professional and La Femme Nikita, has made a Dracula film that is barely a horror film at all. He has said openly that he is not a fan of horror and has no particular affinity for vampire mythology. What drew him was the love story. A man loses his wife. He is cursed with immortality. He spends four hundred years searching for her reincarnation. That premise, stripped of all the Gothic window dressing, is as traditional as storytelling gets. And Besson plays it completely straight.

Caleb Landry Jones carries the film. This is not a surprise if you saw him in Besson's Dogman, where his off-kilter intensity elevated a messy script into something genuinely compelling. Here he plays Dracula as a figure of romantic tragedy rather than menace. The performance is earnest to the point of vulnerability. Whether he is storming a battlefield in 15th-century Wallachia, wandering centuries of exile in elaborate costumes, or dancing a Louis XIV two-step in a Parisian ballroom, Jones commits fully. There is no winking at the audience. No ironic distance. He is playing a man destroyed by love, and he means every frame of it.

The film opens in 1480 with Prince Vlad and his wife Elisabeta in a passionate relationship cut short by Ottoman invasion. After Elisabeta is murdered, Vlad loses himself to grief and rage. He stabs the kingdom's orthodox priest with a crucifix, denounces God, and is cursed with eternal life. He becomes Dracula. This is not presented as a triumph. It is presented as damnation. The film never loses sight of the fact that Vlad's rebellion against the divine is the source of his suffering, not his liberation. That moral clarity matters and it is the thread that holds everything together.

Four hundred years later, in 1889 Paris, Dracula discovers that Jonathan Harker's fiancee Mina is the reincarnation of Elisabeta. What follows is a lavish, overwrought, occasionally ridiculous romantic pursuit set against the backdrop of the centenary of the French Revolution. Christoph Waltz shows up as a Vatican-sanctioned vampire hunter priest, delivering his lines with trademark sardonic precision. Matilda De Angelis plays Maria, one of Dracula's vampiric followers, with effective menace. The supporting cast fills out period roles without fuss.

The film's climax is where Besson earns his keep. Dracula is confronted by the priest, who urges him to repent lest he condemn Mina to eternal damnation. And Dracula chooses sacrifice. He allows himself to be staked. He disintegrates in Mina's arms after declaring his love. This is not the ending of a modern deconstructionist vampire film. This is the ending of a film that believes in redemption, that believes love requires sacrifice, that believes rebellion against God has consequences. The theological framework is not sophisticated, but it is present and it is sincere. In an era when most blockbusters treat faith as irrelevant or as an object of mockery, Dracula: A Love Tale treats it as the architecture of its entire story.

Visually, the film draws on Flemish painting and chiaroscuro techniques. The production design is extravagant. 550 costumes were created. Sets were built from scratch. The armor was crafted by the same artisan who worked on Besson's Joan of Arc and by the team behind Game of Thrones. Danny Elfman's score weaves three main themes around a music box motif. The craftsmanship is real, even when the execution tips into camp.

And it does tip into camp. There is no getting around the fact that some of this film is genuinely silly. Dracula creates a perfume in 18th-century Florence that makes him irresistible to women, a subplot that plays for comedy but carries uncomfortable implications. CG gargoyles serve as his henchmen. A sequence involving nuns is played for laughs in a way that will raise eyebrows. Besson has never been accused of subtlety, and he is not about to start now.

But the silliness is honest. Besson is not trying to deconstruct Dracula. He is not trying to make a statement about colonialism or toxic masculinity or systemic anything. He is trying to tell a love story about a man who waited four centuries for the woman he lost. And when the film works, which is more often than the 52% Rotten Tomatoes score suggests, it works because it leans into tradition rather than running from it.

Conservative viewers looking for a film that respects its source material, centers romantic devotion and sacrifice, treats faith as a serious moral force, and avoids modern ideological baggage will find Dracula: A Love Tale a pleasant surprise. It is not a masterpiece. It is too kitschy for that, too uneven, too willing to indulge Besson's more eccentric impulses. But it is a film that believes in something. In a landscape of hollow franchise content and message-first filmmaking, that counts for more than it should have to.

Trope	Category	Location	Authenticity
Uncomfortable Consent Framing	WOKE	Second act, Florence and Paris sequences — Dracula creates a supernatural perfume that removes women's ability to consent; played mostly for comedy	Not from Stoker. A Besson invention. The film resolves it correctly (Dracula ultimately destroys the perfume) but does not adequately interrogate the implications.
Anti-Religious Framing (Temporary)	WOKE	Opening act — Vlad stabs the orthodox priest with a crucifix and denounces God after Elisabeta's death	Not woke in context. This act of blasphemy is the inciting sin that curses Vlad for 400 years. The film's moral logic requires that rebellion against God produces suffering. The arc ends in repentance and sacrifice.
Sexualized Comedy	WOKE	Second act — nuns become sexually aggressive under Dracula's perfume influence, played entirely for laughs	Pure Besson invention. Juvenile more than ideological. Tasteless but not subversive.
Eternal Devotion	TRADITIONAL	Entire film — Dracula's 400-year quest to find the reincarnation of his wife; every choice driven by devotion to one woman	Authentic. Besson said explicitly he wanted to tell a love story about a man who waits four centuries for his wife's reincarnation. Draws from Coppola's 1992 framing and from the romantic undercurrents in Stoker's novel.
The Self-Sacrificing Hero	TRADITIONAL	Final act — Dracula chooses to be staked rather than condemn Mina to damnation; disintegrates in her arms after declaring his love	Authentic. The moral climax. Four centuries of selfish desire yield to selfless love. The sacrifice is unambiguous and Christ-resonant in structure.
Faith as Moral Architecture	TRADITIONAL	Throughout — entire plot operates within a theological framework; God's curse is real; priest represents divine authority; Dracula's final choice framed as repentance	Authentic. Amplified from Stoker, who embedded Christian moral logic throughout the novel. Besson makes it the central moral axis rather than decorative symbolism.
Traditional Femininity	TRADITIONAL	Throughout Elisabeta/Mina scenes — both versions of the character defined through romantic devotion; Mina's final request to be turned is an act of romantic commitment	Consistent with Stoker's characterization of Mina, though Besson simplifies her considerably.
Craftsmanship and Industry	TRADITIONAL	Production level throughout — 550 handmade costumes, practical armor by Terry English, sets built from scratch, 200 prosthetic makeups	Authentic. In an era of lazy CGI, Besson's commitment to practical craftsmanship is notable and visible. The artisan lineage is verifiable.
Defense of the Innocent	TRADITIONAL	Final act — the priest and his associates lay siege to Dracula's castle to rescue Mina; mission framed as righteous	Authentic. Consistent with Stoker's novel, where Van Helsing and the heroes are unambiguously righteous. The priest is not a fanatic or a fool.
Classical Source Fidelity	TRADITIONAL	Entire film — Harker imprisoned in the castle, vampire pursuing Mina, Van Helsing-figure leading the counter-attack, final confrontation with moral resolution	Faithful in spirit. Besson treats Stoker's novel as a foundation rather than as material to subvert. Core moral beats preserved: Dracula is destroyed, good triumphs, love costs something.
Romantic Commitment	TRADITIONAL	Throughout — Dracula does not move on, does not find someone new, waits four centuries for one woman; the 81% audience score vs 52% critic score reflects this resonance	Authentic. A romantic amplification of Stoker's Gothic romanticism. The film's insistence on permanent, all-consuming devotion is countercultural in a disposable-relationship era.
Consequences of Sin	TRADITIONAL	Entire narrative arc — Vlad's rejection of God produces his curse; curse produces centuries of suffering; resolved only through repentance and self-sacrifice	Authentic. One of the clearest sin-consequence-redemption arcs in recent blockbuster filmmaking. The moral cause-and-effect is clear and unbroken.
Male Protector	TRADITIONAL	Opening battle and final sacrifice — Vlad rides to war to protect kingdom and wife; priest takes up arms to protect Mina; Harker attempts to return to save his fiancee	Authentic. Every major male character defined by protective instinct toward women or the innocent. Presented without irony or subversion.
Honor and Duty	TRADITIONAL	The priest's arc throughout — Vatican-sanctioned vampire hunter who confronts Dracula not out of hatred but out of duty to God and concern for Mina's soul	Authentic. The priest could easily have been written as a zealot or hypocrite. Instead he is written as a competent, principled man of faith. Consistent with Van Helsing in Stoker.
Beauty and Aesthetics	TRADITIONAL	Throughout — Flemish painting inspiration, lavish costumes, handcrafted sets, Elfman's lush orchestral score, deliberate visual beauty without irony	Authentic. The Flemish painting influence is intentional and visible. The pursuit of beauty as an end in itself is a traditional artistic value that Besson honors.