These actors don't suck: The best movie Draculas, ranked

A symptom of ’ method of rebooting, and ’ politicized take on high fantasy, (2014) attempted to unite superhero movie action and epic storytelling in an effort to relaunch Universal’s cinematic universe of classic monsters. The results are mixed, but no one can say Luke Evans doesn’t give it his all. As Vlad Tepes, who becomes a vampire in order to protect his kingdom, Evans brings sense of tragedy to Dracula, twisting the familiar story by making him a decent man who reluctantly turns to evil when there’s no other option. It’s a familiar monster movie archetype, this time with superpowers and an overabundance of CGI. Still, Evans’ anti-hero take on Dracula at least invited curiosity over how he’d navigate the modern world in the now-cancelled follow-ups.

The great thing about is that it manages to reinterpret Universal’s iconic monsters in a way that’s both instantly recognizable and fresh. There’s no overthinking of the core reasons why Frankenstein, the Mummy, the Wolf Man, The Gill-Man, and Count Dracula work. There’s a purity to the concept and Duncan Regehr embraces that with his depiction of Count Dracula, which somehow manages to feel the most like the Dracula our collective minds have conjured up through his various pop culture appearances than any other depiction. It’s not risky or transformative or even the greatest performance in the film, but its quintessential Dracula and an instantly recognizable and accepted take on the character. Fun fact: The role almost went to Liam Neeson before Regehr.

(2000) certainly didn’t fare well upon release, even with producer Wes Craven behind it. A messy film in which a gang of thieves end up stealing Dracula’s coffin and letting him loose in 21st century New Orleans, Dracula 2000 has managed to gain a following among horror fans. And most of that comes down to then-breakout star Butler’s portrayal of Dracula, who manages to be effortlessly cool in the way other modern interpretations of Dracula only wish they could be. What works in the film and in Butler’s favor is that Dracula isn’t the widow’s peaked aristocrat we’ve come to know, but Judas Iscariot, whose hatred of crosses and crucifixes, and aversion to silver all stem from his betrayal of Christ. Butler portrays the character with a bad boy swagger, content to step out of the shadow of the depictions that preceded him.

Universal’s first foray at remaking their classic monster movies was (1979), which really embraced the romantic aspect of the character. Langella’s Dracula is a pouty-lipped Byronic figure; broody, soft, and sensual. At the time, Christopher Lee and Bela Lugosi were most associated with the character, and Langella imitates neither. He’s not frightening and as far as vampires go, he feels quite alive and in tune with the world, rather than being a relic in a crumbling castle. It’s a depiction that on paper shouldn’t work, and yet it does because of how sincere and refreshing it was at the time. A monster you were made to fall in love with, what a concept. Langella was drawn to the character’s lonely existence rather than his evil, and the film is a precursor to the supernatural romance movies that had their cultural moment in the 2000s.

While it doesn’t have the reputation of Mel Brooks’ (1974), (1995) is a fantastic showcase of Leslie Nielsen’s comedic talents, and his keen ability to lean into absurdity and immaturity while also playing the straight man attuned to the comedic timing of his co-stars. There’s a stagey quality to the performance, which has become a lost art in comedy films, and Nielsen once-again proves why he was the most sought after actor to star in parodies. He spoofs Lugosi, Lee, and Oldman, playing on audiences’ familiarity with the most iconic depictions of the character, while also creating a depiction entirely his own. It doesn’t matter that Nielsen doesn’t look like any previous iteration of the iconic Count; the fun here is watching a master of the craft at play.

The German actor best known for his collaborations with Werner Herzog took on the role of Dracula twice, first in one the best adaptations of Dracula ever made, (1979), and again in the troubled production of (1988). Though the actor famously had a reputation for being a nightmare to work with and was prone to unpredictable behavior, he managed to create a fascinating depiction of Dracula that is both sadly pathetic and horrifying. Kinski, made-up like Max Schreck in the 1922 film, plays Dracula like a plague-rat, bringing death and disease to Germany not out of some calculating desire for evil, but simply because it is his nature. He is sick and tired, and thus he spreads his sickness. There’s something profoundly tragic about Kinski’s Count, and his cursed existence of only being able to show affection through infection.

The first adaptation of Dracula was F.W. Murnau’s unauthorized adaptation, (1922), which still holds up all these decades later not only because of its highly influential filmmaking but because of Schreck’s haunting performance and the costume designs of Albin Grau, whose idea for the elongated teeth and fingers, and bald head created an iconic look still seen today. The silent, German Expressionist film changed the names of the characters from Stoker’s novel, though it still didn’t save the production from a lawsuit and nearly all copies of the film being destroyed. Thankfully, Count Orlok survived and Max Schreck is recognized as one of the forefathers of the movie monster. He was so convincing in his portrayal of the ultimate evil and inhuman movements that rumors circulated for years that Schreck actually was a vampire, which later served as the basis of the film (2000) with Willem Dafoe portraying Schreck. Fun fact: sunlight being a death sentence for vampires originated in Murnau’s film.

Lugosi’s iteration of Dracula is the most imitated and arguably the most recognizable. The recognition becomes all the more surprising with the knowledge Lugosi only played Dracula onscreen twice; first in (1931)— which launched Universal’s series of horror films—and then in (1948). Before he starred in Universal’s film, Lugosi had found acclaim by performing Dracula for the stage. By Lugosi’s account, he portrayed Dracula over 1,000 times. The actor brought a cold detachment to the role, and his Dracula is almost reptilian; smooth, slow-moving, and watchful. His accent, Hungarian, formed the basis of many subsequent depictions, but it also made it difficult for him to escape the role of Dracula. Despite attempts to branch out, Lugosi was typecast. There is an air of tragedy associated with him that is hard not to think about when it comes to watching his Dracula. He spent years lobbying for the role, only to get it and find his career stalled by it. And then by avoiding it, he led Universal to recast the role in sequels that lacked his charm and presence. To add another note to Lugosi’s complicated relationship with Count Dracula, the actor was buried in Dracula’s cape, full costume, and ring, because his family believed that is how he would’ve wanted it.

In terms of pure acting caliber on this list, no one comes close to Gary Oldman. He’s a master of the craft and a true chameleon in his ability to make a character feel lived in. As a result, his turn as Count Dracula in is the most layered of portrayals. For the most part, actors have chosen to focus on a particular side of Dracula, his cunning, his evil, his isolation, his romantic nature, his warrior’s drive. Yet, Oldman manages to seamlessly blend all of those aspects, shifting depending on what the scene requires. He’s the greatest warrior, the greatest lover, and the greatest monster—the ultimate villain. All of that evidenced in Oldman’s reading of the line “I have crossed oceans of time to find you.” It’s sensual, heartbreaking, and frightening all at once. He’s a creature in total control yet on the verge of losing it. He’s a fascinating mixture of paradoxes, and ever-shifting not only thanks to Oldman’s brilliant performance but also thanks to Greg Cannom, Michele Burke, and Matthew W. Mungle’s Oscar-winning makeup effects.

No actor has portrayed Dracula more times on screen than Christopher Lee. Beginning with Hammer’s , Lee would go on to play the role in (1966), (1968), (1970), (1970), (1970), (1972), (1973), and (1976). After playing the Count a total of nine times, to say Lee had it down would be an understatement. Lee’s Dracula is a fanged and red-eyed fury, no mere stranger from a strange land but the Devil himself, free to pursue all the sins of the flesh. Lee, who by all accounts was a perfect gentleman and a joy to work with, simply radiated evil through his portrayal of Dracula and arguably helped create the distinction between humans and vampires in popular culture. Prior to Lee, and outside of Schreck’s portrayal, depictions of Dracula never strayed too far from being recognizably human, something that saddled both Carradine and Chaney Jr.’s performance. But Lee’s Dracula wasn’t simply a man with a curse of vampirism, but something else entirely, a whole other species that was animalistic and took pleasure in blood-letting. Lee’s Dracula is a preserve nightmare, one that he and audiences longed to revisit time and time again.