Although modern audiences may tend to scoff at Rudolph Valentino because of the caricature of him as a Latin lover that has passed into the cultural mainstream, a viewing of Blood and Sand confirms that Valentino was actually a skilled and resourceful actor. Granted, silent film acting has its own vocabulary, and it may at times seem somewhat alien to 21st century viewers. Still, those willing to make an attempt should be amply rewarded with the scorching heart throb's performance in Blood. There's much more nuance here and a greater range than one may expect, and Valentino is unafraid to explore new dramatic avenues; more importantly, he is fully committed to the choices he makes. And most important, Valentino simply has "it," an innate sex appeal that spills across the screen. This is especially true in his sequences with Nita Naldi, who brings her own vampish sensibility to the proceedings; together, the two create a picture of a rather sick relationship that is bold and alluring. Much of Blood is dated, including its misogynistic views and its tendency to excuse the desires of men by implying that they are made impure by impure women. And Blood would have been more effective with a more imaginative director than Fred Niblo, whose camera rarely moves and who lacks the fire that his stars bring to the picture.