Uncle Don’s Views of Nil Repute

If you can ignore the screenplay, the dialogue, the music, the

photography and the acting, then “Wes Craven Presents Dracula 2000” ain’t

really all that bad of a movie.

Swiftly disappearing from theaters near you, “Dracula 2000” stars

Christopher Plummer and a supporting cast of unknowns, never-gonna-bes,

never-wuzzes and soon-to-be-forgottens in yet another retelling of

“Dracula.”

Ever read the book? A paragon of quality writing it isn’t. Ginzu

knives would never become that dull.

Anyhow, it’s the year 1897, and a coffin is on its way to England via

the good ship Demeter. Demeter, for those of you who are mythology

deficient, was the Greek goddess of the harvest, whose daughter,

Persephone, was kidnapped by Hades, sending Demeter into sorrows and

therefore bringing winter to the world.

Now interpolating that space-wasting explanation into the scene of the

movie means, presumably, that the ship Demeter is bringing a new kind of

winter to the world.

Oh hell, now I’m starting to think. The Pilot doesn’t pay me to do

that. They couldn’t pay me enough to think. I’d rather write columns.

Flash forward to the present. A bunch of thugs break into a museum.

You can always spot the smart thug. He’s got glasses. The other yahoos

wipe the sweat from their beetle-brows and knuckle-drag their way over to

the uncrackable safe.

With their aggregate IQ just beating out the number of calories in a

Pepsi One, they pick the lock, scratch their rears and head into a

catacomb that has more skulls than a Cambodian killing field.

And what are they looking for? The Ark of the Covenant? The Holy

Grail? The Golden Fleece? Chads?

This festering flambe of fools know only that, because there’s a safe,

it must be there to keep people out, rather than considering that it

might be there to keep something in.

So what’s in this place? A coffin. Betcha can’t guess who’s in there.

Well, Jason and his Brain-Dead-o-Nauts float this sucker down a sewer

and onto the world’s quietest DC-3, where at 20,000 feet, the first to be

removed from the gene pool decides to pry the coffin open.

The plane conveniently crashes near New Orleans, which is where good

ole Dracula wants to be. Why there? He’s after the soul of the scrawny

daughter of the guy who kept him imprisoned the past couple of centuries.

What has she got? Some kind of essence? It’s a long story, and I’ve

got a short attention span.

These vampires, they’re harder to get rid of than Democrat election

recounts. The cross thing doesn’t seem to work. Silver is kinda of

expensive. Didn’t see any garlic around. (Is that why there are no

vampires in Italy?) About all one can do is cut off their heads.

The big kahuna vampire, presumably Dracula, appears out of a fog bank

like a ‘70s rock star. With his big hair, polyester clothes, vapid look

and two-syllable vocabulary, he’s out to make sure this flick sucks more

than Gore’s chances in 2004.

He flies, he levitates, he talks in cliches and he emotes in variable

accents. He casts no shadow. While acting more wooden than the General

Sherman tree, he’s photographed underexposed and overindulged.

Who does he think he is? The Eggman? The Walrus? Faster than you can

say kookookachoo, he’s doing a Nathan Hale, less any witticism designed

for Bartlett’s.

Other than Christopher Plummer, who starred in a bunch of flicks back

some decades ago, there isn’t a face worth remembering, nor a name worth

pronouncing in this hackneyed work.

Attempting to be a half-witted throwback to the Hammer film series

such as “Horror of Dracula,” “Dracula AD,” and “Scars of Dracula,” this

entry in the “lets make a fast and nasty buck” category is a bigger flop

than a fat guy on a diving board at spring break.

o7 “Dracula 2000” is rated R for violence/gore, language and some

sexuality.

f7

* UNCLE DON reviews b-movies and cheesy musical acts for the Daily

Pilot. He can be reached by e-mail at [email protected]