This Francis Ford Coppola film is a gorgeous failure. Moody, spooky, and pulsating with sensuality, it lacks only one thing. Bite.

I'm not sure if it was just the horrific... um... for lack of a better word I'll call it acting... of Winona Ryder, or simply the wincingly hokey finale, but ending it all by Mina (Winona Ryder) declaring her love for Vlad (Gary Oldman) was an incredible letdown.

The Mac Daddy of All Vampires undone by that troll, that mushroom, that popsicle stick impersonating a woman, Winona Ryder. Can you imagine anything more pathetic? The man deserved better. He deserved to get whacked by Anthony Hopkins! Skewered by Keanu Reeves! Blasted to Kingdom Come by Cary Elwes! Demolished by Billy Campbell. Hacked to pieces by Richard E. Grant! And... and...

Ahem. Okay, I'm back in control now.

Unlike Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow which achieved its mood with a tightly claustrophobic feel to even the exterior shots, Coppola's Dracula embraces the vast expanse of the night. In fact, everything seems larger than life. Which I suppose is the point.

Of particular note is the use of shadow puppeteers to set the mood. The scenes in the castle are enough to make your skin crawl. After seeing how the count's shadow acted as an entirely separate entity, instead of writing a letter saying that he would be staying another month, Jonathan Harker (Keanu Reeves) should have hot footed it out of there and hitched a ride from the next available carriage. Moron.

Having read the novel, I understand that the seemingly non-reactions of the film's characters to quite a bit of frightening stimuli are in fact how the author directed; however, that does not excuse them from being idiots. I supposed one could argue that this being a horror film, the characters are supposed to be stupid and act in such ways that leave them open to danger. However I'm not in the mood for rational thinking at the moment as I'm still annoyed at having to spend so much time watching Winona Ryder mewl and whine and breathe heavily feigning passion that I wished that I had been the one impaled upon a sword at the end. Lucky bastard Gary Oldman.

As I said before, I feel that the conclusion was the greatest flaw in this film. After escalating events to the boiling point to allow Winona Ryder to not only survive, but be the impetus for this great power's destruction was anti-climatic to say the least. Not that portraying the power of love as the greatest force in all of God's creation is necessarily a bad thing, but throughout the movie Ryder's Mina was incapable of matching the depths of passion, of emotion, that Gary Oldman's Vlad poured out of his soul for his beloved. It's like the difference between expresso and tap water.

And you know, I didn't set out to blame the failure of this film entirely on Winona Ryder, but now that I've had a chance to think about it? Yeah. It's all her damn fault.

DROOL FACTOR: There are many, many, many delicious men in this film and all are severely underused. Keanu Reeves -- with his bad English accent -- heads the pack, but there is also the dashing Cary Elwes, the boyishly handsome Bill Campbell and even Richard E. Grant looks good here. They don't get to do much of course, but what can you do?

GROSS-OUT FACTOR: I would have to say that the worst was seeing Winona Ryder in a love scene. But beyond that there were the freakish prosthetics Gary Oldman donned, which barely edged out the sight of his fishbelly chest. Ugh.

STRONG CHICK FACTOR: I don't care if her love was the power that finally sent Dracula to the next world, Winona Ryder is incapable of being a strong chick. I could break her with my pinky. That is, if I could stand the whining long enough.

-- Linda M. Najera

We welcome your comments on The 11th Hour and this review. Please send letters to: letters@the11thhour.com