Love at First Bite

Sometimes a bygone film feels ahead of its time, like an exquisitely crafted piece of genius that stands up to modern scrutiny. Then there is Love at First Bite. When George Hamilton’s Count Dracula is forced to leave the comfort of Transylvania for the disco, brownouts, pill popping, and promiscuity of late-’70s Manhattan, he turns to blood banks and the love of Susan Saint James for succor. Every now and then things get so convoluted that some sort of humor is achieved, but waiting through setup, setup, explanation of hoary joke, and delivery of hoary joke gets old fast, especially when the jokes are racist (as when a Latino family’s urging their patriarch to get a job is interrupted by a visit from Hamilton in bat form, whom they try to kill, thinking he’s a chicken they can eat). Dick Shawn’s sublime oddness (as the hapless cop trying to bust Dracula) helps, as does Arte Johnson’s Renfield, but if you haven’t smoked any wolfsbane you might wonder why you have such fond memories of this one. EXTRAS None.

Love at First Bite
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