The Romanians don't respect the Count:
Renfield: "Master! There's someone at the door. They want to see you. I ... I think they're from the government."
Dracula: "How do you know?"
Renfield: "They're wearing shoes."
Femmunist: " . . . and therefore, by unanimous vote of the central committee, it has been decided to turn this castle into a training camp for our young athletes. You - and your cockroach-eating friend over there - have 48 hours to GET OUT. Good evening, comrade Count!"
Count: "Wait one minute! This is my home! My people cleared the land. We tortured innocent peasants for it. We even murdered
for it! By Romanian law, that makes it ours!"
Femmunist: "Now you listen to me, stupid! In 48 hours, we'll be back here with trampolines, parallel bars, swings, and Nadia Camoneci! DON'T be here!"
Count: "Don't be here? Where am I to go?"
Femmunist: "You have a choice, comrade Count. Either you spend the rest of your life in an efficiency apartment with seven dissidents and one toilet, or you gather up your aristocratic shit together and SPLIT!"
Renfield: "Yes, master?"
Count: "What is an efficiency apartment?"
Renfield: "I don't know, master . . . . what's a toilet
So, let us turn to the Romanian composer supreme. Enescu, with his jagged version of Romanticism.
He started off looking back at the past; for example, his wonderful Piano Quartet in D, Op.16 from 1909.
While most critics would say his own voice comes through in the second piano quartet in d-minor from 1944,
for listening enjoyment, I say Opus 16 is more fun. This pre-war, but post-Dracula boarding the ship back to Varna,
has a great 19th century Romantic feel.