Please excuse me talking to myself, but I watched this again yesterday, and it still comes across as a fever dream. The music is intense and suitably weird, the screen is flooded with color -- early on the reds are almost overwhelming (exterior of dance school, interior of apartment house [hotel?]) -- and a sense of wrongness steadily implied. I wouldn't say there's a misstep, but the info-dump about witches toward the end comes close. Still, the ending stems from the phantasmagoria experienced up to that point and provides a satisfying conclusion.
Blacula (1972) dir. William Crain; starring William Prince, Vonetta McGee, Denise Nicholas
So very early '70s, not just in hair styles and clothing, but in film stock, lighting, location shooting and especially music. Not exactly scary anymore, if it ever was, but a surprisingly engaging story all the same. Pulls out the old plot of an immortal finding the reincarnation of his lost love (see also, The Mummy [1932], among many others). Mamuwalde (Prince) crosses Dracula who, in a racist rant, bites him, stuffs him in a coffin and locks the coffin so he will be tormented by his thirst. About a century later a couple of antique collectors buy out Drac's castle and all it contains, including the coffin. (The film is not gay-friendly; the antique collectors are very much '70s stereotypes.) Upon opening it, they become noshes. Shortly after, Blacula sees Tina (McGee), the spittin' image of his wife and knows he has to have her.
The movie proceeds as usual. A young doctor plays Van Helsing, he's a friend of Tina's, he has suspicions about this tall, handsome guy who only comes around at night while any number of drained people end up at the morgue. Eventually, there's confrontation. What distinguishes this is Prince's performance. He is, no joke intended, princely, and his dignity and bearing -- along with one of the best voices in movies of the time -- make him very watchable.