Count Dracula has been dead for so long and gone through so many iterations — exotic, satanic, romantic — that it’s almost surprising there’s any juice left in the thirsty old boy.
Yet here he is again, resurrected by a glorious, vamping Nicolas Cage, swinging a cape, baring his fangs and stealing his every scene.
He’s basically toast, and our guy, the Count’s unhappy servant, Renfield (a Nicholas Hoult type, relatable, smooth, good-looking) — after years of groveling and scarfing bugs — has had it.
After a century of pop-culture celebrity and box-office success there’s no need: He is what he is, a vampire.
He’s also, unsurprisingly given the job’s grisly requirements, a terrible boss, which the movie uses to economically establish how the long-suffering Renfield joins the support group.