Son of Dracula (1999)

The film opens with a lecherous Joginder driving up to a young couple in the forest and asking the man about his shapely companion. He is promptly told that she is not his sister but his girlfriend, and the young woman wastes no time lecturing Joginder that he wouldn’t understand the meaning of love for a sister anyway, as he doesn’t even have one. The taunting rubs him up the wrong way rather brutally. Joginder reacts in typical fashion by pulling out a pistol and threatening the young man. The lovers remain defiantly unimpressed, but Joginder wastes no time blowing the poor fellow away.

Munnia flees into the forest with Joginder in pursuit, but he quickly catches up with her. Amid some ominous special effects and thunderous music, it becomes painfully clear that he has satisfied his animal lust and likely left her for dead.

The next scene introduces a sleazy young degenerate bragging about how his father has just dispatched another young couple to their graves. He proudly declares that he intends to surpass his old man by taking on two couples at a time rather than one. Seconds later, we are back in another jungle setting where a terrified young woman is being pursued in a jeep by the ever-leering Joginder. Sparks practically fly across the screen as he closes in on his prey, remarking how these nightly pursuits help him sleep peacefully.

The film then cuts back to Joginder’s son, who boasts that he and his father are locked in a glorious competition to see who can rape and murder the most women. These opening scenes set the tone perfectly. What follows is essentially a battle between Dracula-like Joginder and his equally depraved offspring to outdo one another in acts of depravity — an auspicious beginning indeed from one of Harinam Singh’s most promising protégés, Saleem Suma.

As the police remain utterly baffled and incapable of stopping the growing body count, the film descends fully into the realm of the Dark Side. A hairy, fang-toothed Shaitan appears before the freshly murdered girls and instructs them to seek revenge — exact revenge. He orders them to return to their killers with renewed purpose and supernatural determination. The hairy Shaitan, it seems, is a demon of surprisingly firm principles.

Another individual blessed with lofty principles is the long-suffering wife of the Thakur, who constantly nags her husband to reform his ways and warns him that his excesses will eventually destroy him. Naturally, he dismisses her completely. The Thakur considers himself untouchable, rather like Donald Trump in many ways — a superior being entitled to grab and abuse whatever flesh he pleases.

Meanwhile, the murdered girls carry out the Shaitan’s orders and appear at the Thakur’s haveli clad in bras and panties, launching into a seductive rendition of “Thora Resham Lagta Hai,” the immortal Bappi Lahiri anthem later pinched by Dr Dre to considerable legal consequences. The girls’ dazzling beauty and vixen-like dance moves leave the Thakur’s thugs severely compromised, which is precisely when the supernatural revenge begins.

Unfortunately for the Shaitan, the first trio of undead sirens fail miserably in their mission despite numerous sultry dance interludes. Elsewhere, the banished wife of the Thakur attempts to reform her sons in a remote haveli, but the rotten brats refuse to listen. Instead, they vow to continue in their father’s vile footsteps and break every one of his records for rape and murder.

Driven to despair, the Shaitan unveils his final master plan. One last seductive concubine must impregnate the Thakur and give birth to a demonic spawn capable of exacting the revenge the others failed to achieve.

This time the scheme works. The demonic temptress succeeds in seducing the Thakur, and mere minutes after the act, a devil child is born. The grotesque little flying monster, complete with rubbery mask and murderous fury, immediately gets to work. One of the Thakur’s lecherous sons is drained of blood and left rotting as the devil spawn grows at an alarmingly rapid pace.

One by one, the surviving brothers attempt to uncover who — or what — is slaughtering the family. Their investigations lead them to a local Tantrik armed with a fearsome trishul and the magical ability to hurl glowing red energy balls at satanic forces. Unfortunately, this Shaitani baby proves far more formidable than expected. The creature even brazenly appears in Police Officer Raza Murad’s office to taunt the authorities and dare them to stop its cannibalistic rampage.

The Tantrik’s mighty balls prove spectacularly ineffective as sibling after sibling is devoured, drained of blood until nothing but bones remain. The scenes are utterly ludicrous and yet strangely effective, with the vengeful spawn appearing almost unstoppable.

Eventually the tide begins to turn. The Thakur finally repents and starts listening to his saintly wife, while simultaneously denouncing the Tantrik as a fraud. This leads to an almighty supernatural showdown involving the forces of the undead, the Shaitan, the murdered girls, the Son of Dracula, and the increasingly desperate Tantrik, who summons every holy symbol imaginable — trishuls, Allah medallions, crosses, and of course more magical balls — as the film hurtles toward its gloriously deranged climax.

Will the rapist murderers finally face justice? Will the Tantrik somehow redeem them? Or will the vengeful Shaitan and his monstrous offspring triumph in a blaze of supernatural carnage?

The film is every bit as awful and gloriously misconstructed as Harinam Singh at his most inspired — which is perhaps the highest compliment one can pay a Bollywood horror film. The incredulous special effects, thunderous disco-soaked dance numbers, blood-draining monsters, and scenes of hair-raising absurdity elevate it far above ordinary garbage. It is terrifying, atrocious, hypnotic, and unforgettable all at once.

Watch out for this director and his future work. M. Night Shyamalan should probably take notes.