Blood for Dracula: Andy Warhol is a Vampire

Blood for Dracula (1974)
(buy this sick shit and just leave it on at parties)
reviewed by J. Kane
Trip-o-Meter: 8/10


If you know anything about Andy Warhol besides that he painted soup, you know he was a sickly pale, whiny bitch. Which is why, when I discovered Andy Warhol presents Dracula, I knew I had to buy it. The VHS cover was very misleading - it didn't tell anything about the director (Paul Morrissey) or actors or even the rating. In fact, it said more about cameos from directors Roman Polanski and Vittorio De Sica than it did anything useful.
When I popped the tape in, it told me this film was rated X. Holy shit. 1970'S X-rated films are legendary or something.
Then, the title cards say this film is called Blood for Dracula. It turns out that there are several titles for this film, including Young Dracula, something in French and the most popular, Andy Warhol's Dracula, which we'll go with.

It starts out like every Dracula film you've ever seen - and you only need to see one to have seen them all. But already something's different here. Maybe tricks with the light. The music, which seems to be only two tracks - one for exciting and one for calm. Or it's the pale Udo Kier as the Count applies makeup in front of a mirror, with no reflection. What a trip.
That's about how far the mythology goes. Garlic isn't Dracula's kryptonite - he's just deathly allergic. Crosses make him cross-eyed and he isn't evaporated by sunlight, he's just really, really stuffy in it.
And this reveals the truth - this Dracula represents Andy Warhol. He's an old, sickly, whiny bitch. There is none of the suave, collected horror from the original classic Dracula. There isn't the fawning, drooling stalking from Twilight. No, Andy Warhol's Dracula reveals what a vampire really is. A vampire isn't some demi-god creature and he isn't a shimmering faggot. He's just a rusty old pervert that gets off on blood, just like those freaks that call themselves vampires in real life.
Everything about this movie is bizarre, from the old grindhouse scratches on the film to the distant dialogue, the drawn-out conversations about Romanian lettuce to every character's bulging, psychotic eyeballs. Every character sounds flamboyantly gay with heavy European accents dripping with so much over-acting it almost seems convincing. Almost.
This Dracula changed the way I perceive vampires entirely, more than 30 Days of Night or Interview with the Vampire ever could. It totally took away the mystery of this mythology and turned it into a brilliant joke. Who could expect less from Warhol and Morrissey?

So anyway, Dracula's sociopathic adviser Anton tells the Count he will die unless he drinks the blood of a virgin. Why does Dracula believe this guy? Well, why not.
As there are no virgins in Romania (probably true) the two roadtrip to Italy with Dracula's coffin strapped to the roof, like something out of A Goofy Movie. Dracula moves into the mansion of a wealthy family whose estate is falling apart. These poor bastards are in a lot debt, so to get some money they propose to marry one of their four daughters off to Dracula (brilliant idea) but of course, she must be a virgin!
There's only one servant, a Communist bastard named Mario (played by Joe Dallesandro, one of Warhol's wonder boys) who has fucked all but two of the four daughters. There's a lot of random stripping and sex and even some sisterly incest, but most of it's rape. Mario constantly beats the shit out of these girls and rapes the hell out of them. The raping gets so mundane that he actually starts humming. He's bored!
Well, Dracula seduces these women, meaning he holds them down and sucks their neck. Dracula and the girls seem to get off on it, until the old vampire realizes it isn't truly virgin blood and he vomits, violently, everywhere. It's insanely funny and disturbing.
(update: orig. vid was taken down, but this should do, for now)


Dracula is still gonna die if he doesn't get virgin blood soon, but by now jealous Mario has figured out Dracula's secret. So he tells the youngest daughter, Perla, a 14-year-old, they need to have sex. "C'mon, for your own protection." Of all the slimy ways to get a girl into bed, this is one of the best. Perla still says no, so Mario rapes her anyway, until they're interrupted by the mother, who believes Mario's story and let's it slide. Thanks, Mom.
That's not even the worst part. Dracula arrives at the crime scene and licks up the virgin blood. Ugh. That's almost as bad as sucking used tampons at a middle school.
The last virgin in the house, Esmeralda, just gives herself up to Dracula. Why the fuck not.

Spoiling the ending should be fine, since you probably know the routine.
Anton stabs the mother and gets shot in the forehead. Mario the rapist saves the day by hacking off every one of Dracula's limbs with a hatchet. This is the funniest scene in the movie, very "Here's Johnny!" meets The Black Knight. Dracula even says you can't hurt me, ("It's just a flesh wound!") right before Mario pounds a huge stake through the Counts heart.
Esmeralda comes in screaming and throws herself onto the stake, Romeo and Juliet style. Except Romeo is humorously amputated and Esmeralda is kind of hanging above him. Now Mario owns the estate, where he is free to rape the remaining three girls. He just has to explain to the police why there are half a dozen corpses lying around. Vampires, I swear.

This film will completely freak you out, worming it's way into your mind for centuries. Unless you're totally desensitized to rape and porno-violence; if so, you may want to see a counselor, Ed Gein.
It also has some of the greatest lines in cinema from "I'd like to rape her real good," to "the blood of these whores is killing me!"

Bonus:
All the different posters are really fascinating as well as the history behind the film. It was made out of boredom, really, after Andy Warhol's Flesh for Frankenstein, which sounds just as awfully good.
Also, here's a bizarre reenactment. YouTube, you're the best. And by best I mean, why in God's name do you exist?