This film is so far off the book it can barely be called the same thing, and how they managed to incorporate the author's name in the title is beyond me. Keanu Reeves is laughable trying to mimic a posh British accent, and the high amount of sex thrown in at any slow point (none of which occurs in the story) is enough to put you off entirely. The performances are pablum, and even Anthony Hopkins, who has saved other movies in his time, could not pull this one out of the dung pile for me or anyone I know. All I can say is thank God Coppola did The Godfather, because without that, where would he be with films like this? There are much better Draculas out there, notably the original, silent German film Nosferatu, which actually FOLLOWS THE BOOK, a concept apparently lost on the makers of this film.