oral gratification from resident psychiatrist Dr. Julia Hoffman (Helena Bonham-Carter), the subject of the original series’ most enduring unrequited love, reduced here to a pathetic joke. Indeed, the film’s attempt to complement Barnabas vs. Angel- ique while at least touching all the necessary other bases—Roger Collins’ (Jonny Lee Miller) neglect of his son David (Gully McGrath), the decadence of spoiled little rich girl Carolyn Collins (Chloe Grace Moretz), Julia’s attempt to cure Barnabas with transfusions (which here takes the turn of her using his blood to make herself young and immortal)—results in a narrative that ignores its in- troductory character for long stretches of time. Likewise, the sense of destiny so compellingly presented by the opening 12m is completely lost for long stretches of time.
When Barnabas “the Third” (as Elizabeth introduces him around) does allude to his attrac- tion to “Victoria,” as he does in conversation with a weirded-out Carolyn, he trivializes a spiritual bond which has survived centu- ries by panting over her “wide birthing hips”—apparently the writers’ idea of Old English dia- logue transposed to comedy. Their parallel storylines finally connect at a Collinwood Ball, open to the townsfolk to reestab- lish the family’s prominence, and which attracts not only Alice Coo- per as the evening’s entertain- ment, but four of the original cast members of the DARK SHADOWS series: Kathryn Leigh Scott, Lara Parker, David Selby and Jonathan Frid, the original Barnabas, who died only a few weeks before the film’s premiere. As Alice Cooper performs “The Ballad of Dwight Frye,” a 1971 musical soliloquy inspired by Frye’s performance as the asy- lum inmate Renfield in the 1931
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DRACULA, “Victoria” reminisces about her childhood, her ability to see ghosts, and how her par- ents committed her to an asylum where she was submitted to elec- troshock therapy—which prompts Barnabas to say they “deserve to boil in Hell’s everlasting sulphur,” a fate whose analogy is frequently reserved for conservative parents in Burton’s axe-grinding oeuvre. It’s an inspired blend of music and narrative, evoking at times a sense of composed cinema with- out quite fully achieving it. Un- fortunately, the two characters bond only to be separated by the rigors of the other stories once again, as Angelique arranges for the Collins family’s rebuilt can- nery to explode in flames of the same hot pink hue as her under- pants, which she presses to the face of the chained Barnabas as she reseals him in his coffin. Looking closely at this deci- sive scene on the balcony, one can see that part of the prob- lem lay in the casting of Bella Heathcote, so lovely and com- pelling of our interest in the main titles sequence, but who—with the exception of some witty an- swers to the few questions Eliza- beth fires at her before hiring her—comes across as ordinary whenever she has anything to say. She’s the Marilyn Munster of the story and we are never shown anything of her to give her the spiritual upper hand in the war for Barnabas Collins’ love. She’s so weak-wristed as a character that the real conflict, between Victoria and Angelique, is never directly addressed. (Eva Green, who is sheer panache as Angel- ique, would have blown her off the screen.) Only at the very end of the film, when something hap- pens to transform Victoria, do she and Barnabas feel meaning- fully matched. It’s thanks to this moment of resolve that the be- ginning and end feel balanced,
bridged by an unapologetically saggy middle—in which there are a few minor pleasures, like a cameo appearance by Sir Chris- topher Lee as a grizzled old sea captain at the Blue Whale tavern, and some anachronisms geared to annoy perfectionists in the audience (like Carolyn listening to Iggy and the Stooges’ “I’m Sick of You” years before it was bootlegged, much less given an official release on vinyl). The film builds to a climactic 10m orgiastic mess of CGI that finds the windows of the elabo- rate main Collinwood set explod- ing, walls burning, bannisters untwisting into pythons, portraits bleeding, one character turning into a werewolf (“Deal with it. Woof.”), and Angelique projec- tile-vomiting green slime into Barnabas’ face before her own ivory complexion begins to crack and crumple like an eggshell. (Is she supposed to be some kind of automoton, as well?) As much as anything I’ve seen, it’s like see- ing a clueless filmmaker with in- finite funds at his disposal throwing his script pages up in the air.
Because the film’s pleasures are decadent and sumptuous, Blu-ray viewing is most fulfilling and the cinematography yields unsuspected richness of depth and vertiginous movement when viewed on larger screens. The 1.78:1 presentation—with DTS- HD Master Audio in 5.1 English and DD 5.1 audio in dubbed French, along with optional sub- titles in English SDH, French and Spanish—is often ravishing, its operatic flourishes thoroughly couched in superbly directional sound. The 2-disc set is accom- panied by a DVD and Ultraviolet Digital Copy linkage.
In addition to a wealth of be- hind-the-scenes documentation divided into eight components, the disc offers some deleted but
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