Werner Herzog directs Klaus Kinski as the title character. While one would assume the Count to be something of a nightmare for any human with flowing blood, he's more of a horror for manicurists and assertiveness trainers. When Dracula can't get to Lucy Harker (Isabelle Adjani) he grunts dejectedly in much the same way a large mammal with bowel trouble might. One can easily envision John Gray throwing a hissy fit, screaming, "Just tell her your needs, man!"

Ultimately, the reason Nosferatu is so frustrated is a total inability to "put the bat in flight," as they say in Transylvania. Undoubtedly, the first time Count Low Stroke tried to masturbate, his ultra-long nails probably turned his member to hamburger. This is a man with some serious sexual frustrations; he penetrates women the only way he can.

It's never clear what hold Dracula has over his victims, but Herzog's camera interminably lingering over the striking Nosferatu turns each scene into more of a Monty Python sketch than a horror film, as the fidgety audience screams "Run away! Run away!" Let's face it, though: if it's a choice between a rat bite and subsequent death by Plague (the other major problem for the characters) or Nosferatu's bite, most people are going to opt for a little sucking by the Count.