In a time of emo vampires, which look more like perfumed metrosexuals from the pages of a fashion magazine than bloodthirsty beasts, Dario Argento decided that the story of Dracula, the progenitor of everything undead, needed to get back to its Gothic beginnings. The Italian master of exploitation relies less on flashy makeup and more on the substantial dose of solid horrors he’s been serving up now for decades to his appreciative fans. But not even under his helmsmanship does Dracula remain the textbook character that arose out of the darkness of the Victorian world; in Argento’s surreal imaginarium, the count gains an added dimension – as did the picture itself: stereoscopic 3D. Thus the embodiment of absolute evil, sating himself with the blood of lily white virgins as he pursues the love of a woman he lost more than 400 years prior, can once again expect a fateful encounter with Jonathan Harker and Mina, his bride-to-be. But the ruthless Van Helsing doesn’t wait in the wings while Dracula sinks his teeth into the beautiful Mina – no less acute, Van Helsing’s hunger involves ridding the world of the "midnight siphon” once and for all.