Every Live-Action Movie Version Of Dracula Ranked Worst To Best

Since 1902's Voyage dans la Lune, filmmakers have been shooting people into space. From Josie and the Pussycats to Danny Trejo's Machéte, many memorable characters have reached for the heavens in search of vengeance, adventure, or a chance to start anew. But as both characters and audiences of Dracula 3000 might tell you, sometimes space kind of bites. 

Set in the year 3000 (hence the title), the movie follows a group of space salvagers led by one Captain Van Helsing. The fun begins when the team comes across a derelict ship called the Demeter, and Van Helsing decides to keep it. But not after finding the previous captain dead, tied to a chair, and clutching a crucifix, as well as a closet full of shiny sand-filled coffins (Craigslist sure is sketchy in the future). Before the crew can begin to drag the poor guy's space crypt back to earth, their ship mysteriously decouples, leaving them stranded without any chance of rescue.

Van Helsing and friends soon learn that the Demeter has a small vampire problem, with the source being none other than Count Orlock, better known as Nosferatu, the first (unauthorized) movie Dracula. As one would expect, this is where all the running, screaming and bleeding starts, but while both vampires and space are exciting and terrifying on their own, Dracula 3000 winds up being neither, instead leaving audiences with one of the worst ripoffs of Alien (which is truly saying something) and the single worst Dracula movie.

The late Wes Craven's often pioneering and typically exquisite work as a writer, director and producer of slasher films earned him the title "the Master of Horror." But in addition to being responsible for Nightmare on Elm Street, Scream, and The Hills Have Eyes (the 1977 original), Craven also unfortunately hitched his name to a few complete flops. Dracula 2000 is easily one of the most embarrassing examples. As was a frequent plot device at the turn of the millennium, Dracula 2000 sought to take a classic character (guess who) and pull him into the sleek and sexy 21st century. While vampires typically live forever, Dracula would probably have been better off dead.

As parodied in the criminally under-appreciated comedy Hamlet 2, creating a modern-day sequel to a literary classic is inadvisable. Craven and creator-director Patrick Lussier would've been wise to heed this unspoken rule, but instead decided to pretty much do everything it aims to prevent, complete with a time-traveling (sort of) Van Helsing. Despite the absurd plot and mostly anemic acting, critics were actually somewhat forgiving of this corpse-like revival of Stoker's classic. Positives include Gerard Butler (of 300 fame), who does a pretty decent Dracula, and to some, the ridiculous story is enough to make the film at least watchable.

Dracula fans will be forgiven for missing this lesser known production co-created by WGBH Boston and BBC Wales. For those paying attention, yes, that means it was a made-for-TV movie, and yes, it was also produced for public television, which for many is truly scary indeed. Rest assured, It's safe to keep reading, but keep that spritzer of holy water handy.

For those not afraid of public television, Masterpiece Theatre should sound familiar, having been responsible for some truly incredible literature and biography adaptations, and perhaps most famous for being behind the period original Downton Abbey. From a production perspective, Dracula pretty much fits right in, with great actors and a beautiful, meticulously period-correct world for them to play in. However, in contrast to the series' reputation for faithful recreations, Dracula takes a few creative liberties, such as omitting certain well-known characters and introducing a more explicit disease subplot. Sadly, the changes, though novel, do more to alienate fans than give the story new life. Overall the film struggles to find its voice, landing somewhere between typical Masterpiece artistry and something closer to a popcorn-flick throwaway, while largely missing the best bits of both.

Andy Warhol is pretty much a household name, and where the artist isn't known, his work most certainly is. But while most people have seen his famous silkscreens, most probably aren't aware of Warhol's film career. And really, that's completely understandable, because while Blood for Dracula and its companion film Flesh for Frankenstein were both advertised under Warhol's name, no one has ever figured out what exactly he contributed to either. Despite the billing, the film was written and directed by Paul Morrissey, a friend of Warhol known for his experimental filmmaking.

The story is a violent and  sexually explicit pseudo-parody of Bram Stoker's Dracula, in which the titular character must only feast on virgin blood and is dying due to a lack of virgins in Transylvania. After relocating to a heavily Catholic area of Italy, hoping to have better luck with his virgin problem, the vampiric lord enters into a deal with a wealthy estate owner to marry one of his four daughters, all of whom are supposed virgins. Hijinks ensue (some of which are deeply problematic) in what is undoubtedly one of the single most bizarre narrative films ever made. But Blood for Dracula has since gained a cult following, precisely because of just how strange it is.

Picture this: You're more than a hundred years old, living in a manor you've owned since before the advent of sliced bread. You may murder here and there to sustain your life force, but otherwise keep to yourself. Then one day the government shows up at your giant castle door and takes it all away. Why? Because some gymnasts need a new facility, and this is Communist Romania. What's an exiled immigrant vampire to do? Move to New York, of course! 

In the 1972 horror-comedy Love at First Bite, starring George Hamilton in the central role, Dracula does just that. After learning about the wonders of the new world (Blood banks! Free love! Discotheques!), Dracula makes the big move across the Atlantic. He meets a beautiful model named Cindy (Susan Saint James), who he believes to be a reincarnation of his long-dead lover. Unfortunately she has a boyfriend who just so happens to be the grandson of none other than the original Dracula hater, Van Helsing. Like a vampire-laden Shakespearean farce, Love at First Bite is an excellent addition to the Dracula lexicon because of just how different it is from any Dracula film. It was well-received by audiences at the time (though not always by critics), in large part because it was one of the first Dracula films to nail the vampire humor. Years on, the jokes don't always fly, but overall it's a sweet and funny take on Drac's whole bloodlust conundrum that for some will certainly hit the vein.

In 1944, Frankenstein's monster (Glenn Strange), the Wolf Man (Lon Chaney, Jr.), and Dracula (John Carradine) got together for a little terror party at Frank's in House of Frankenstein. Full of murder, mayhem, and of course, romance, House of Frankenstein was received well enough for Universal Pictures to get the band back together in 1945's House of Dracula. After learning of a Mad Doctor (Onslow Stevens) with the cure for vampirism, Dracula flies himself over to Vasaria to pay him a visit. Meanwhile, Lawrence Talbot (a.k.a. the Wolf Man) arrives looking for a cure himself. As Dracula waits for his procedure, the Wolf Man and the Mad Doc form what might be called a friendship, which culminates in the pair discovering Frankenstein's monster in a cave, cradling the skeleton of the late Dr. Neimann (from House of Frankenstein). 

While Wolf Man and the Mad Doc bond, Dracula decides to turn one of the doctor's assistants, Milizia, into his new undead bride. An epic fight between the Wolf Man and Dracula ensues, and the rest is best left unspoiled. Pure monster supergroup wish-fulfillment aside, what makes House of Dracula so appealing is Carradine himself, who makes for a very fine Dracula. Menacing and charming, he's seductive enough to draw you in, and spooky enough to creep you right back out. This proved the last time any of the legendary monsters would grace the screen for many years, but it wasn't a bad way for the band to break up.

If one were to dream cast an adaptation of Bram Stoker's novel using actors from the '90s, they might just come up with the impressive ensemble that graced 1992's Bram Stoker's Dracula. Directed by Francis Ford Coppola, the film stars Gary Oldman, Winona Ryder, Anthony Hopkins, and Keanu Reeves (in what some consider a fairly terrible performance). It also features incredible turns by character actors such as Richard E. Grant, Cary Elwes, Sadie Frost, and even Tom Waits. 

Following decades of campy B-movie relegation, Bram Stoker's Dracula was lauded for bringing a sense of gravity back to the story. Instead of putting the bloodsucker into yet another strange happenstance, the film looks back to the source material and emerges with a gothic romance. Coppola insisted that all visual effects were done practically, even going so far as to fire the entire VFX team. The film altered the aesthetics of vampire movies for years to come, inspiring a new generation of representation for the creatures of the night that can be felt today. Though there was some on-set drama, (everything from terrifying makeup to an accidental marriage), it didn't bleed into the end result, which still stands as one of the best vampire films of all time.

The same year Frank Langella and Laurence Olivier faced off in the 1979 Dracula, international delight Werner Herzog released Nosferatu the Vampyre. Unlike other adaptations, Herzog's film was a direct adaptation of the original Nosferatu and as such, aesthetically breaks from most modern Dracula renditions. Gone are the perfectly slicked-back black hair and the dashing red cape. Instead, Klaus Kinski's Count Orlock dons a simple black garb — high-collared, long-sleeved, and beautifully creepy. His scalp is bald, his pointed ears prominent, dark circles sit under his eyes, and rodent-like incisors hang from his mouth. A far cry from the romantic idealized version of Dracula popularized by Universal Pictures, Noferatu the Vampyre is truly the stuff of nightmares.

And yet, like most Dracula stories, Nosferatu the Vampyre is, at its heart, a romance. When the Count falls in love with the portrait of a young Lucy (Isabelle Adjani), he moves in next door. When it turns out Lucy is more interested in regular human men like Jonathan Harker (Bruno Ganz), Orlock is a little less than pleased. When Lucy discovers that the string of deaths in her hometown (previously attributed to diseased rats) is actually Orlock's doing, she's even less pleased. An animal cruelty scandal aside, Herzog's Nosferatu is a haunting film, driven by the director's singular perspective and striking directorial eye. Thanks to the film's strong production value, some may even prefer it to the original.

During Hollywood's early days, studios were determined to get maximum bang for their buck. Sometimes this meant shooting the same film twice, but in a different language, as is the case with the Spanish-language version of the 1931 Dracula, titled Drácula. Shot on the same sets on opposite work schedules, Drácula was long forgotten in the greater lexicon of Dracula films — despite it being just as good, if not better than, its English-language counterpart. 

Though they hit most of the same narrative beats, Drácula is much more visually dynamic. Where Tod Browning's film relied heavily on its star power and cinematography, director George Melford's style was much less static. The crew also benefited from having the English language dailies to build off of, learning from and building upon them (though star Carlos Villarías was allegedly encouraged to recreated Lugosi's performance as closely as possible). The film is also longer, allowing more time for character development than Browning's version. 

Though it vanished for many years, a copy surfaced in the 1970s, illuminating the world to a glorious parallel universe. On October 25, 2015, Drácula made its official theatrical debut as a part of Turner Classic Movies' "TCM Presents" series (a double feature with the English language version), and redefined Dracula history forever.

Over Dracula's hundred-plus year history in cinema, the character and his story have inspired some truly amazing films. Yet, while each one has brought its own original ideas and artistry to the great Dracula tapestry, all owe a great debt to the 1921 classic Nosferatu — the single oldest Dracula film, and among the earliest horror films in general. Not only did the production introduce a wider audience to the character, and vampire mythology, it also created a tone for cinematic horror that continues to reverberate through the genre. Simply put, Nosferatu is a landmark for Dracula, horror, German expressionism, and film history as a whole. The great irony, as fans are aware, is that Nosferatu, the best Dracula film ever made, had to pretend it wasn't actually a Dracula film. Wie bitte?

The story goes that Albin Grau, occult enthusiast and co-founder of the studio behind Nosferatu, got the idea to produce a vampire film. Grau commissioned screenwriter Henrik Galeen to pen a production based on Bram Stoker's novel, which contemporary literary critics gushed over for its poetry and rhythm. But when the Stoker estate refused to grant permission to the production company, the script was reworked to avoid copyright infringement. It didn't work, and the studio filed for bankruptcy soon after the film's release. All copies of the film were to be destroyed by a court order, but thanks to international distribution, Nosferatu survived. So has its ability to linger — hauntingly, agelessly, like Dracula himself.