I’m a bottom with lifelong self-esteem issues, so I’m used to doing what others say even if it isn’t good for me. In that sense, me and Renfield (Nicolas Hoult) have a lot in common. As the titular character in Chris McKay and Robert Kirkman’s dark action comedy, Renfield has spent decades obeying Dracula’s (Nicolas Cage) every deplorable whim. He murders innocents to provide fresh blood and does his master’s dry cleaning because the ge💯riatric goth is too lazy to turn into a bat and do it himself. Years of neglect would wear anyone down, even familiars who can eat bugs to earn superhuman powers whenever they like.
Until one day he joins a self-help group for fellow citizens bound up in toxic relationships, inadvertently murdering their hated partners for Dracula without realising that he himself is bound up in 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 cute journey of self discovery that is equal parts grotesque and adorable. While it often struggles to land on a consistent tone and relies a little too much on predictable punchlines, Renfield remains one of the freshest horror comedies I’ve seen in some time. There’s a good chance you’ve seen Nicolas Cage hamming it up as Dracula and don’t need to be sold an🌃y further, but the truth is he is a single highlight in a film teeming with hilariously grim ideas.
Rebecca Quincy (Awkwafina) is the beacon of moral positivity that Renfield needs in his life. While a corrupt police force ensures she is stuck berating drunk drivers, Quincy has a secret desire to hunt down mob underling Teddy Lobo (Ben Schwartz) and avenge her father’s legacy. This whole setup is delightfully self-aware, taking time to highlight how ridiculous this weird world awash wit𒁃h dipshit cops, campy vampires, and overconfident gangsters isn’t one we should ever be taking seriously. Yet the heartfelt message of self-acceptance still shines through, partly due to how overzealous this whole film tends to be. I went expecting a kooky romantic comedy, but the end result is more akin to John Wick meets The Addams Family.
An early action scene in a seedy bar is horrendously violent with severed limbs being used as makeshift melee weapons as Holt cuts the arms off unwilling foes with a serving platter. Characters are constantly poking fun at the absurdity of everything, whether it be through frequent inside jokes or a police force so laughably corrupt that they never once stop and question how siding with the city’s biggest crime family and not their colleagues might be a bad idea. It’s sold for laughs though, and only ever stumbles when serious dialogue tries to weedle its way into the hilarity. Not all jokes land, and a side plot regarding Quincy’s distant sister and late father tries to awkwardly tie int♐o the main narrative when it only ever gets in the way. I didn’t care, and its one fumbled layer in a fil🐭m that otherwise thrives on simplicity.
Renfield’s struggle is the most resonant, partly because beneath all the hyper-violence and vampire cl♛iches sits a surprisingly relatable examination of toxic relationships and the clear self-doubt that sinks in when we come to rely on someone who isn’t good for us. An early scene has a severely wounded Dracula healing from gruesome injuries, the script dripping with deception as he walks circles around Renfield, picking at his insecurities like an unwinding thread. Then he slices at his gut, letting his organs spill onto the floor knowing that his blood is the only thing capable of keeping his confidant alive. The two are literally boun🔥d by blood, and this is far more than a convenient plot device that creeps its way in during the final act.
The majority of their scenes are dripping with unnerving tension, taking me back to times in my life where I had to face down similar demons found within someone far stronger than me. Dracula knows he has the power here, which makes all the moments where Renfield is able to reclaim his own agency and chase a life worth living that much more rewarding. A cutesy montage where he buys an apartment and builds a wardrobe filled with garish pastel colours is adorable as Quincy cringes at the idea of him bringing flow🌸ers down to her office.
People are undoubtedly going to read Renfield🍰 as a queer character, more so when his relationship with Dracula is framed as romantic in so many ways. The language used hints at a bond that was once prosperous, but years of servitude saw it fade away into abu🐼se. You’re naturally in a position to empathise with Renfield, desperately shaking your head as he once again crawls back to a man who wants nothing more than to ruin him. But it also lines up, as those in toxic relationships often don’t realise they need to escape until it’s too late. Dracula is an asshole here, and Cage sells it with a drooling campiness that seeps from every line. It is equal parts hilarious and sinister, somehow imbuing a palpable feeling of horror into a turn I initially didn’t expect to take seriously. I did though, and Renfield is so much stronger for it.
Renfield is abundantly aware of its own oddball concept, and somehow subverts its cheesy dialogue and over-the-top violence into a central thematic message that is oddly heartfelt in its execution. Our main character might be a centuries old familiar with bad fashion sense and a penchant for murder, but beneath it all he’s still a human being going through a very real dilemma. We want him to succeed, even as he’s eating bugs and using severed limbs as javelins to impale corrupt 🅺SWAT teams. It’s incredibly badass, but also kinda beautiful.
