I’ve been at the bottom of my life due to self-esteem problems, so I’m used to doing what others tell me to do, even if it doesn’t suit me. In that sense, Renfield (Nicholas Hoult) and I have a lot in common. The protagonist of Chris McKay and Robert Kirkman’s dark action comedy, Renfield has been subject to the deplorable whims of Dracula (Nicolas Cage) for decades. He murders innocent people to supply fresh blood and does his master’s dry cleaning because the old goth is too lazy to do it himself, turning into a bat. Years of neglect will wear down even the familiar who can eat bugs to gain superhuman strength whenever they want.
One day he joins a self-help group for fellow citizens caught up in toxic relationships, unwittingly murdering his hated partner for Dracula’s sake, not realizing that he is bound by a relationship he can’t escape. After murdering a ska-obsessed cocaine dealer and attracting the attention of local gangs and law enforcement, Renfield embarks on a cutesy journey of bizarre and endearing self-discovery. It struggles to maintain a consistent tone and often relies too heavily on predictable punchlines, but Renfield is one of the freshest horror comedies I’ve seen in a while. You’ve likely seen Nicolas Cage screwed up as Dracula and no longer need to sell, but in fact he’s the single highlight of a movie full of delightfully grim ideas.
Rebecca Quincy (Awkwafina) is the beacon of moral positivity Renfield needs in life. While her corrupt cops scold her for her drunk drivers, Quincy pursues her mobsters to track down Teddy Lobo (Ben Schwartz) and harbors her secret desire to avenge her father’s legacy. This whole setup is delightfully self-aware, and takes the time to emphasize that this strange world full of dumb cops, mean vampires, and overconfident gangsters isn’t something we should take seriously. But her heartfelt message of self-acceptance still shines through, in part because this entire film tends to be overzealous. I was expecting a wacky romantic comedy, but the end result is more like John Wick meets The Addams Family.
Early action scenes in a seedy bar are terrifyingly violent, with severed limbs used as makeshift melee weapons while Holt slices off the arm of an unwilling enemy with a serving platter. The character constantly mocks the absurdity of it all, whether it’s through frequent inside jokes, cops who are so ridiculously corrupt, or never stopping to question how to side with the city’s biggest crime syndicate instead of their allies. do. I think I will Be a bad idea. But it’s sold for laughs, and only stumbles when serious conversations try to break into laughs. Not all jokes are right, and a side plot about Quincy’s distant sister and deceased father awkwardly tries to connect to the main narrative only when it gets in the way. I didn’t care and groped for a layer of cinema that thrives on simplicity.
Renfield’s struggles are, in part, because underneath all the over-violence and vampiric clichés, there’s a wonderfully relatable examination of toxic relationships and a palpable sense of self-doubt that subsides when we become dependent on someone who isn’t good for us. An early scene features a seriously injured Dracula healing from horrific wounds. The script trickles down as he circles around Renfield, picking out his insecurities like unraveling threads. Then, knowing that his blood was the only thing that could save his friend, he dismembered it, spilling his intestines on the floor. The two are literally bound by blood, and this is more than just a handy plot device that creeps in during the final act.
Many of their scenes are full of unnerving suspense, taking me to a time in my life where I’ve had to face similar demons found in someone far stronger than I am. Dracula knows there is power here, which makes every moment when Renfield can regain his agency and pursue a life worth living that much more rewarding. The cute montage in which he buys an apartment and builds a closet full of colorful pastels is adorable as Quincy cringes at the thought of bringing flowers to the office.
People will undoubtedly read Renfield as a queer character. Even more so when his relationship with Dracula is framed as romantic in many ways. The language used suggests a bond that was once prosperous but faded with abuse after years of servitude. You’re in a position to naturally empathize with Renfield, shaking your head desperately as Renfield once again climbs over a man who wants nothing but to ruin him. But it also lines up because people in toxic relationships often don’t realize they need to escape until it’s too late. Dracula is a motherfucker here and Cage sells it sleazy with drool seeping from every line. It has equal parts funny and ominous, and injects a palpable sense of dread into turns you might not have taken seriously at first. I did and Renfield is much tougher on it.
Renfield is fully aware of its own geeky concept and somehow subverts the cheesy cheesy dialogue and exaggerated violence into a central thematic message that is strangely heartfelt in its execution. Our protagonist may be a centuries-old man with a bad fashion sense and used to killing, but behind the scenes he is still a human with a very real dilemma. We wish him success as he eats bugs and uses his severed limbs as javelins to impale a corrupt SWAT team. It’s incredibly badass, but it’s also pretty beautiful.
