When it comes to iconic monsters, Count Dracula stands in a league of his own—yet in Luc Besson’s latest film, the legendary vampire trades much of his terror for something altogether more tender. Released in theaters on February 6, 2026, Besson’s Dracula arrives hot on the heels of Robert Eggers’ Oscar-nominated Nosferatu, but this time, audiences are in for a love story that pulses with longing rather than dread.
In this new take, Besson, the French auteur behind Léon: The Professional, leans hard into the romanticism buried in Bram Stoker’s gothic classic. According to MySA, Besson drew inspiration from the “romanticism” of Stoker’s 1897 novel, though he’s not shy about borrowing from previous cinematic incarnations—most notably, Francis Ford Coppola’s 1992 adaptation, which first introduced the idea of Dracula’s love transcending centuries via reincarnation. Gone is the purely predatory count; in his place, we meet a heartbroken Prince Vlad the Impaler, played with eccentric flair by Texas native Caleb Landry Jones.
Jones, who hails from Garland, Texas, is no stranger to offbeat roles. As Besson told MySA, “The thing with Caleb is that he cannot play a normal guy – like a doctor in a small town. This guy is a Ferrari. He has to [play] the Pope or God or Mao Zedong. He can't just be normal.” Jones’s career, which began with a small part in No Country for Old Men (2007), has been defined by his willingness to embrace the unusual, from a disturbed medical technician in Antiviral to a mass murderer in Nitram. Besson previously directed him in the 2023 thriller Dogman, and their creative chemistry is evident once again in Dracula.
The film opens in the mid-15th century, where Vlad has just married his soulmate, Elisabeta (Zoë Bleu). Their bliss is short-lived; the Ottomans invade, and Elisabeta is killed, shattering Vlad’s world. In his grief, he renounces God—a decision that, in one of the film’s more outlandish twists, is sealed when a priest’s cross is driven through his heart, granting him immortality. From that moment on, the prince is reborn as Dracula, damned to wander the earth for the next four centuries, searching for the reincarnation of his lost love.
While this love angle might make purists raise an eyebrow, it’s hardly new territory. As USA Today notes, Besson borrows freely from Coppola’s template, even modeling Jones’s look after Gary Oldman’s memorable Dracula—think white hair coifed in a bubble-like fashion, pale aged skin when the count is hungry, and a dashing black suit and top hat when he’s rejuvenated. The real departure, though, comes in the details: Besson replaces Dracula’s traditional mind-control powers with a perfume the count concocts, a scent so alluring that it entrances any woman who comes near. It’s an odd, almost whimsical touch, and one that speaks to Besson’s willingness to take risks with the material.
But when Dracula finally finds Mina (also played by Bleu), the Parisian fiancée of an estate agent who appears at his castle door, he refuses to use his magical perfume to win her over. Instead, he embarks on a journey to Paris—dispensing with the usual lore about coffins and Transylvanian soil—to win her love the old-fashioned way (well, as old-fashioned as a centuries-old vampire can manage). Along the way, he ravages a convent of nuns to regain his youthful vigor and enlists a former minion (Matilda De Angelis) to help orchestrate Mina’s seduction. Lucky for Dracula, and perhaps unlucky for Mina, the plan works.
Hovering over this tale of undying devotion is Christoph Waltz, who plays a Vatican priest tasked with hunting down the vampire. Waltz’s character, while not the classic Van Helsing, serves as a pseudo-narrator, guiding the audience through the film’s historical and supernatural intricacies. As USA Today observes, the stakes in this vampire hunt feel curiously low—the church’s pursuit is more lackluster than lethal, and the CGI gargoyles that pepper the film are, frankly, more distracting than menacing.
Yet, for all its quirks and cut corners, Besson’s Dracula is buoyed by its cast. Jones delivers a performance that’s equal parts mysterious and vulnerable, offering a Dracula whose primary motivation isn’t to spread the curse of the undead, but to simply be reunited with his beloved. It’s a refreshing, if occasionally befuddling, take on a character who’s spent over a century being defined by his monstrous appetites.
Zoë Bleu, who plays both Elisabeta and Mina, brings her own brand of intensity to the film. In an interview with MySA, she revealed that she and Jones prepared for their roles with a unique blend of music and dance—sometimes practicing movement without a soundtrack, other times immersing themselves in the haunting score by Danny Elfman. “The music is really beautiful [and] has a protection spell around this entire film. I heard music every time I looked at [Caleb],” Bleu said. Jones added, “The dance classes [were] without music. Not your normal dance classes like the ones I took in ballet when I was 8 years old.”
This emphasis on atmosphere and emotional connection is what ultimately sets Besson’s vision apart. The film’s romance-first approach may frustrate those looking for a return to gothic horror, but it’s hard not to be swept up by the operatic longing that drives its central characters. According to USA Today, “Landry’s mysterious, heartbroken take on the character allows us to overlook some garish and cheap sequences.” The film might stumble over its own campiness at times—those low-budget CGI gargoyles are hard to forgive—but it’s never less than sincere in its depiction of love that refuses to die.
Of course, this isn’t the first time a filmmaker has tried to reframe Dracula as more than just a monster. But in a landscape crowded with bloodsuckers, Besson’s Dracula stands out for its willingness to bare its heart—even if that means sacrificing a little bite. As Jones himself put it, “At some point, you just can’t think about it anymore. You have to find out what [the character] is for your film, and focus on, ‘This is your costume. This is your horse. This is your armor. This is your castle.’”
With its kitschy romance, eccentric performances, and a dash of Parisian flair, Dracula may not be the scariest vampire movie to grace the big screen, but it just might be the most earnest. And in a world where monsters are a dime a dozen, sometimes earnestness is the boldest choice of all.