The first time I watched this movie I turned it off. I knew its reputation – I remember the stunning poster artwork – but when I sat down to watch it I found the whole thing shockingly cheap.

But in the wake of Robert Eggers' superlative 2024 remake I knew I had to revisit it.

To be honest I don't feel that differently than I did the first time, and it wasn't just of the limitations of the budget filming in late 1970s in Europe (behind the Iron Curtain, no less) probably imposed. For a director with such a titanic reputation as Werner Herzog, and an actor with methods intended to produce greatness that made him a nightmare to work with like Klaus Kinski, there were too many elements that felt decidedly amateur.

When Murnau made the original 1922 film he was mired in lawsuits from Bram Stoker's widow that forbade him from referring to Dracula – which explains why we had Count Orlock instead of Dracula and why Thomas Hutter from Wisburg is sent on the real estate mission rather than Jonathan Harker from London.

But almost 60 years later, Herzog has no such narrative constraints, so he's adapting Dracula directly rather than just the bare bones of the narrative like Murnau did.

Jonathan Harker (Bruno Ganz, who'd go on to give us maybe the best on screen Hitler ever in Downfall years later) is sent by his law firm boss (in this version Renfield isn't just a nutter who's already locked up, he runs the firm and sends Harker because he's already in league with his far-off master) to sell a run down estate to the Eastern European count.

His young wife Lucy (Isabelle Adjani, and she reminded me of how much I fell in love with her the first time I saw Queen Margot) begs him not to go, plagued by feelings of impending doom.

Jonathan goes anyway because the deal will set he and Lucy up for a long time, but as you know if you've ever been to a movie, read a book or heard the name ' Dracula' mentioned, the Count (Kinski) uses him as fresh meat as well as signing for the sale. When he sees a picture of Lucy in Jonathan's locket he becomes determined to claim her for himself, stowing himself in a ship bound for Wisburg where he'll extend his reign of terror with Lucy by his side.

Already bitten, Harker is sick and trapped in Castle Dracula but knows he has to get away, breaking out and racing back towards Wisburg to try and save her.

Dracula's ship drifts up the canals right into town where the crew are all missing or dead and it exhumes its cargo – Dracula himself and the nests of rats that accompany him, all of which start to spread plague all over town.

Lucy becomes convinced it's not the plague casting a shadow over the town but something far darker, and when she can't get anyone to listen to her she sets about tricking and destroying Dracula herself using his desire for her.

For all his bluster and a reputation that's bigger than any single role, Kinski isn't any more than fine in the lead, wearing a bald pate and bats ears like Max Shreck did generations before.

If anything, his enunciation and movement are comically over the top, but that might suit whatever baroque tone Herzog was going for (having said that, this is one of the films where he famously riled Kinski up for the first few takes, exhausting his star so he could get more understated performances out of him for later takes).

It's well enough dressed and designed, but it doesn't confirm Herzog's status as a master – certainly not as much as the ship-dragging visuals in Fitzcarraldo – and if you're only there for the story, we'd already seen plenty of versions by 1979 (let alone countless countless since) from the likes of Universal, Hammer and others.