Jul 23
If Conrad Veidt had played Dracula, I wouldn't want him to be another Bela Lugosi. I imagine a completely different interpretation.
My Dracula is not a triumphant predator, but a lonely prisoner condemned to eternal hunger and endless cold. He is always freezing, yet neither fire nor blankets can warm him. The only warmth he can truly feel is the body heat of the living.
To him, fresh blood is not merely food. It is like a bowl of hot soup offered to someone lost in a blizzard. Every sip brings warmth back to a body trapped in an endless winter, if only for a little while.
