Movies

From Dusk Till Dawn 2: The Direct-to-Video Sequel Hollywood Buried—Until Now

From Dusk Till Dawn 2: The Direct-to-Video Sequel Hollywood Buried—Until Now
Image credit: Legion-Media

Big names, small budget, and a lot of bite—how From Dusk Till Dawn 2: Texas Blood Money went straight to video, slipped into obscurity, and the messy tale behind the sequel time forgot.

From Dusk Till Dawn was one of those mid-90s lightning-in-a-bottle jobs: a gritty crime flick that smashes headfirst into a vampire brawl at a biker bar. It worked, it made money, and it made George Clooney a movie star with a neck tattoo. So of course a sequel followed. Just not the kind you saw in theaters. This is the story of From Dusk Till Dawn 2: Texas Blood Money — the scrappy, direct-to-video kid brother that Blockbuster was built to sell. And yes, the backstory is way more colorful than the movie itself. This rundown pulls from the What Happened to This Horror Movie episode on the sequel, written by Jaime Vasquez.

Why a sequel, and why straight to video?

By the late 90s, the home-video market was booming. Renting a movie was still a night out, minus the theater. The first From Dusk Till Dawn did fine in theaters but really exploded on VHS and DVD — for obvious reasons that may or may not involve Salma Hayek and a python. Miramax saw those numbers, looked at the unexpected profitability of other direct-to-video follow-ups like The Prophecy II, and greenlit a sequel aimed straight at living rooms. Back then, 'direct-to-video' was a plan, not an apology.

How Scott Spiegel ended up steering the getaway car

Scott Spiegel had been running with Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell since their scrappy Super 8 days in mid-70s Michigan. He popped up as a 'fake Shemp' in The Evil Dead and Evil Dead II, and co-wrote Evil Dead II with Raimi. His own feature debut, 1989's Intruder, is a slasher set entirely in a grocery store — a location he knew cold from working overnight shifts. He tested the idea twice: first as a Super 8 short called Night Crew, then as the cult favorite feature, both with Raimi/Campbell chaos sprinkled in.

Cut to the mid-90s: Miramax buys the Halloween franchise. Spiegel meets Bob Weinstein at the From Dusk Till Dawn premiere, having already been in the mix for Halloween 6 (producer Moustapha Akkad went another direction). When a Dusk sequel came up, Weinstein tapped Spiegel. Spiegel and Boaz Yakin hammered out a story, pitched it to Weinstein and Quentin Tarantino, and got the thumbs-up. Tarantino signed on as a producer.

The writers behind the bloodshed

Boaz Yakin had already written the 1989 Dolph Lundgren Punisher and directed a pair of critical darlings — Fresh (with Samuel L. Jackson) and A Price Above Rubies (with Renee Zellweger) — even if they did not blow up the box office. He had history with Spiegel too: they co-wrote the Clint Eastwood/Charlie Sheen actioner The Rookie about a decade earlier.

Spiegel then turned that story into the full script with Duane Whitaker — yes, Maynard from Pulp Fiction, the pawn shop creep who bags Marsellus and Butch. One of Tarantino's most unsettling characters helped write a direct-to-video vampire sequel. That tracks.

The wild idea they almost shot

Tarantino's involvement briefly inspired a swing-for-the-fences pitch: bring back Tarantino's own character, Ritchie Gecko, as the king of the vampires, and have George Clooney's Seth Gecko pop in just long enough to get taken out. That plan died fast — Seth Gecko lived to not be immediately murdered, and Tarantino was not keen on undead Ritchie anyway. The movie pivoted to a standalone: new crooks, same cursed locale, same vampire mess.

Meet the new blood

  • Robert Patrick as Buck Bowers: The T-1000 himself leads a crew of bank robbers, playing it so straight you can almost feel him trying to will this into a theatrical sequel.
  • Bo Hopkins as Otis Lawson: A Texas Ranger on Buck's trail who becomes the weary lawman foil once fangs start flying.
  • Duane Whitaker as Luther Heggs: Buck's twitchy right-hand man, bringing that off-kilter energy he weaponized in Pulp Fiction.
  • Danny Trejo as Razor Eddie: Trejo was Razor Charlie in the first movie and plays someone new in each entry. He is the only actor in all three films, which basically makes him the franchise's tough-guy mascot.
  • James Parks as Deputy Edgar McGraw: Son of Earl McGraw (played in the original by his real-life dad, Michael Parks). Outside of Trejo's recurring appearances, this is the trilogy's only true casting connective tissue. James Parks later wore the same badge in Kill Bill Vol. 1 and 2 and Death Proof.
  • Cameos: Bruce Campbell and Tiffani Thiessen show up for about five minutes each. Marketing slapped Thiessen on the poster anyway, which did the movie zero favors. At least they did not pretend Campbell was the star.

Shooting Texas in South Africa

Production moved fast and cheap: a 40-day shoot in and around Cape Town, South Africa, doubling for Texas and Mexico. Yes, really. The dusty backroads, the sunbaked wasteland, the vampire-infested cantina — all South Africa. The budget was around $5 million, a steep drop from the original's $19 million.

Spiegel leaned into his bag of visual tricks: propulsive POV shots, weird angles, practical effects that feel rough in a charming, Halloween-store-clearance way. He even joked he was trying to make the movie look bigger than its budget — which sometimes shows on the vampire makeup. The editing was a puzzle thanks to the hyperactive camera, but the mission statement was clear: fast, bloody, fun, and not a beat-for-beat rerun of the first film.

Release, reception, and the numbers no one bragged about

From Dusk Till Dawn 2: Texas Blood Money went out into the world on March 16, 1999. Critics did not bite. It sits at 9% on Rotten Tomatoes, with audiences at 20%. IMDb users gave it a 4.2 out of 10, which is basically cinema's 'meh' emoji.

The DVD hit on September 28, 1999, and it later resurfaced in a Blu-ray trilogy set in 2011. It mostly skipped theaters, though it did sneak into Taiwan on May 3, 2002 and made about $6,000. That still counts as box office.

Among fans and reviewers, it is the lowest-rated entry in the series. What people remember are the faces: Robert Patrick grinding through it like a pro and Danny Trejo doing what Danny Trejo does. The movie gets overshadowed on both sides — by the original's genre-bending swagger and by From Dusk Till Dawn 3: The Hangman's Daughter, which has a louder gore reputation.

So, did it live up to the original?

No, and that was never really on the table. But as a late-90s direct-to-video time capsule, it has its moments. It is scrappy, messy, sometimes fun, and buoyed by actors who refuse to phone it in. If you stop measuring it against the Clooney/Hayek/Santanico Pandemonium high bar and just meet it where it lives — cheap crooks, cheaper vampires, fast pace — you will probably have a decent night in.

Loose ends you asked about

How involved was Tarantino? He produced, signed off on the setup, and nixed the undead Ritchie idea — otherwise, it is Spiegel's show.

Which original character almost came back just to die? Seth Gecko was almost a quick casualty in a very different sequel. Bullet dodged, literally.