Subtitles section Play video Print subtitles VLADIMIR: All my life I've wanted to fit in, to be ordinary. So I thought moving to a new town would be my chance, my chance to be normal. But I was forgetting one little thing. I'm a vampire. -I'm we should have taken a left back there. -Can you stop breathing in my face? You can't have brushed your teeth for weeks. Am I the only one gagging here? I can't believe we have to speak this stupid language. -We've got to keep a low profile. -And why did we have to move anyway? -Please be quiet, Mistress Ingrid. I'm trying to read the map. -Don't tell me to be quiet, insect biter. -All right. That is it. -Don't you touch me, you fungus. -Brat. -Creep. RENFIELD: Witch. INGRID: Pus face. VLAD: Turn right. RENFIELD: Can't do it. Crescent freak. Fart breath. INGRID: Spider licker. -Scab picker. -Snot eater. COUNT DRACULA: (ANGRILY) Renfield! What exactly is going on? -Sorry for disturbing you, Master. -Silence! -Ingrid wants Renfield to turn the hearse around and go back to Transylvania. -Oh, you do, do we now? And what about the angry torch-wielding Tryansylvanian peasant mob, hm? Would you like to go back to them, too? [angry yelling] -Yeah, well, better going back to face them than living in this dump. I mean, look at it. It's so normal. -Normal. That's just what I was thinking. ELIZABETH: Robin! Robin! Robin! -Face it, mum. You did a good job with me and Paul. -And me. -Three out of four ain't bad. -It's just unfortunate you also had a weirdo goth child. -Ian, this isn't funny. He hasn't come out of his room all morning. -PAUL: And that's a bad thing? -If he doesn't come out, no one's going camping. -Hey, nut job! Open up! -Ah! RENFIELD: Can I proceed now, Master? -Yes, yes. -Good. It smells like a zombie's armpit in here. I thought so. It's Vlad's stupid stuffed dog. -Hey, he's not a dog. He's a wolf. And he doesn't smell. -Well, actually, Master Vlad, I do smell a bit. My sawdust seems to have got a little damp in transit. COUNT DRACULA: Renfield, drive. What is that? -Home sweet home. Maybe Dad should go on a diet. COUNT DRACULA: I heard that. Well, here we are at last. Hmm. It's not exactly what I was expecting. I mean, where are the cobwebs? The damp? The rotting corpses? -Look, Dad, you just said find a castle. It was the best I could find on the internet at short notice. COUNT DRACULA: Well, I suppose I might feel better when I've had someone to eat. -All right. I'll get my things. Bagsie the tower room. INGRID: Uhh, I don't think so. I'm the eldest. I'm having that one. -But I called it. -When? VLAD: In the hearse. -Right. Well, I called it before you were born. So kiss my cape. COUNT DRACULA: Please, this is very simple. Vladimir will have the room. -Brilliant. Oh, Ingrid, I do believe you were about to chew on that. -This is because he's your favorite, isn't it? -Yes, that's right. INGRID: I hate you more than garlic. COUNT DRACULA: She is so much like her mother. Ugh. In the attic. RENFIELD: Yes, Master. -Behind some boxes. RENFIELD: Yes, Master. COUNT DRACULA: Under a sheet. -Thanks, dad. -Oh, Vladimir. There's no need to thank me. You are the son and heir of the Dracula family. So you're right, you should have the best room. -Well, actually, I only wanted the tower room because I thought I might get a TV, and the reception is better up there. -Arrgh! [low rumbling noise] -Time to meet the neighbors. -Not juicy enough, go away. -A TV? A TV? If you want to see moving pictures, Vladimir, run around the portrait gallery. Does he think he's living in the 19th century? ZOLTAN: Of course not, Master Vladimir, the Count thinks he's living in the 17th century. He's a few hundred years behind everyone else. -I hate being a vampire. It really sucks. -Hmm, isn't that rather the point? -I just hoped this move will be a new start for us, you know, a chance to be a bit less-- -Vampiric? -Exactly. Come on. Take a look at this. See? Semi-detached houses, streetlights, a newsagent, a golf course, it's all so normal. Right. New life, new neighborhood. Time to check 'em both out. ZOLTAN: But Vladimir, your father has forbidden us from leaving the castle. We need to keep a low profile. -Zoltan, I'm a preteen vampire. That means I've got the reflexes of a night hunter combined with the incredible ability to sneak up behind my parents' back. [sighing] -Mmm. Ingrid. How's the grand sulk going? -I've decided I'm going to go live with mum. -Ingrid. Your mother's dead. -You're dead. We're all dead. -Still can't go and live with her. -You're just mad because she left you for a werewolf. -She did not leave me for a werewolf. We mutually agreed to separate. -After she met a werewolf. -Vladimir keeps the room. It's his birthright. -And what's my birthright? -I don't know. Cleaning my capes? Housework? Something like that. I haven't really given it much thought. -I hope you get some really painful splinters from your coffin. -Ah! -Renfield. My stomach tells me it's lunch time. Time to sample a local peasant. -Now, Master, promise you won't be angry. -No, I like being angry. -Promise you won't hurt me. -Again, not a commitment I feel I can make. -We, um, we may have a food problem. -What sort of problem? RENFIELD: Sort of, we don't have any problem. -(ANGRILY) What do you mean? -I thought you wanted to keep a low profile so I turned a peasant away. COUNT DRACULA: Arrgh! RENFIELD: And what with the driving and map reading and the cobweb hanging, I didn't have time to stock up with any fresh blood. -Two weeks from Transylvania and all I've had to eat is some black pudding in a motorway services. It's not good enough. I need a juicy peasant or at least a steak! -Steak? -Hmm. Extremely rare. RENFIELD: Don't worry, Master. I'll think of something. -Going somewhere? -Yeah, just popping out. COUNT DRACULA: Ow, ow ow, ow! You're not going anywhere, young vampire. Go to your room. -But Dad. -Ooh. Ah! -You know which room is yours, don't you? It's the one that should be mine. RENFIELD: I'm coming, Master! -I hate sunlight. -(SINGING) We're all going on a camping holiday. Just some tent pegs and a rope or two. -Dad, you're making strange noises again. -It's called singing, Robin, people do it when they're in a good mood. Oh, sorry, good mood, I hope I'm not confusing you with my complicated technical jargon. -Ha-ha. Small drama inside, we're out of Kendal mint cake. -What? We can't have a Branagh family camping expedition without Kendal mint cake. This is a disaster. Elizabeth! -I wish they'd do -I'm disappointed in you, son. I mean, where's this bad attitude coming from? The cheeriness, the- the optimism. Ugh, love of the outdoors. -Dad. COUNT DRACULA: And the clothes you wear-- why? Why the bright colors? Make my eyes hurt. -It's what kids wear. -Well, not my kids. Vladi, come stand here. This is what we are, son, we're vampires. What are we? -Vampires. -There's no escaping that. You know, in a few years you'll come into your full powers and your reflection, like mine, will disappear. Now, I am going to sort out the food situation. -Can't we have something normal, like a hamburger? -Oh. A person from Hamburg. -No! -Vampires. You can't escape it. It's your destiny. Hehe. [door closing] -Oh, great. -Ah! Cool. -OK.