Renfield: An Analysis (1897, 1931, 2023)

By Joe Gibson

The following essay is an excerpt from a cross-disciplinary research paper comparing the redemption of Renfield from the trajectory of the original book Dracula to the 1931 film to Renfield’s own 2023 film with the history and efficacy of blood transfusion itself. The scientific and historical connections to blood transfusion were ill thought out and obligatory, so here are the cult film analysis sections that should stand up to scrutiny a little more. We here at Plan9Crunch have analyzed Dracula 1931 a fair bit already (links at the bottom of this post) and will likely find new things to talk about in the future, but I hope you enjoy these research paper excerpts.

On page 72 of the Barnes and Noble edition of Dracula by Bram Stoker, it reads, pertaining to Renfield’s fly indulgence, “...he argued quietly that it was very good and very wholesome; that it was life, strong life, and gave life to him.” 

At several points of Renfield 2023 but notably the denouement, Dracula’s whole blood is administered to heal substantive damage and even death with no negative side effects. Indeed, “the blood is the life” in Renfield, as he stated it was in Dracula 1897. In most adaptations and the original story itself, Renfield was deluded; Dracula’s blood would only corrupt the user into something unrecognizable (see the personality changes of Mina, Renfield, and Olgaren in Dracula, Dracula 1931 and The Last Voyage of the Demeter 2023 respectively). This redemption of Dracula’s blood necessarily translates to redemption of Renfield (and his psychology) and not Dracula (because Renfield highlights Dracula’s abusive tendencies).

The history of R.M. Renfield (via bullet points since the admittedly profuse publications featuring this character either do little to change him or are too obscure to be relevant to Renfield 2023’s character study). Broadly, the loose inspiration for [Renfield] starts in antiquity regarded positively, then the concept itself [Renfield] emerges regarded less positively as the modern era approaches and each gets refined to such a degree to show efficacy.

Renfield’s development is grounded in the context of warping and stretching Christian symbolism and scenarios; quite clearly in the original novel, the way that Bram Stoker intended Renfield was an allusion to John the Baptist. On page 106, Renfield speaks in bride-maid and bride parables similar to Jesus, compounding the idea that Renfield and John the Baptizer both espoused similar philosophies to their lords and then deferred to them (Renfield commits himself to Dracula on page 107). Renfield’s famous line on page 148, “...the blood is the life” works as a direct quotation of Deuteronomy 12:23 (Renfield being the vehicle for most of the novel’s religious imagery). Most tantalizing, John the Baptist is understood to have eaten locusts. (He may not have, but the symbolism and imagery need not correspond to reality in literary use. Similarly, some scholars doubt that Jesus sweating blood was originally part of the Gospel of Luke, but that is obviously a strong image still on the table to use in literature.) Renfield dies from trauma to the head and neck, just like John, but this is warped because the Herod figure (if anyone fits Herod’s role in Renfield’s life, it would be Dr. Jack Seward for his notable observation of Renfield and hasty woman-motivated decision making) does not cause the death; Dracula, the dark Lord, does (Stoker, 1897, 2011). There is stark reversal more so than similarity with the Baptizer.

The audience of Bram Stoker’s Dracula understands Renfield not as a person but as an enigmatic mystical contradiction. Dr. Seward observes Renfield scientifically, where one could read neurosyphilis greatly into the latter’s behavior, but the hints of great strength (for a 59 year old man), prophetic forewarning and religious allegory communicate Renfield as a mystical character. Renfield never gets his own point of view sections to explain himself (and the audience never learns who he was before Dracula), locking his character behind two different veils of interpretation.

By the time of Tod Browning’s Dracula, Renfield had changed somewhat, consolidating Harker’s castle scenes into his own tragic subplot. Harker loses much of his development, Mina’s moments of reflection at her infection reduce, and the suitors of Lucy are all but eliminated to make room for Renfield, a sane man, falling victim to Dracula at the castle, Renfield, an insane man, onboard the Demeter, Renfield interacting with the comic relief orderly and nurse at Seward’s sanitorium, and Renfield surviving until the final confrontation with Dracula where he leads Harker and Van Helsing to Dracula’s resting place (Browning, 1931). The novel is an ensemble, and so is the film, but, whereas Harker, Mina, Seward, and Van Helsing are the major players by amount of journal entries, it is Renfield, Dracula and Van Helsing that enjoy increased relevance and focus for the movie adaptation. That is important for the horror and terror since, in all versions, Renfield is the most clear picture of what Dracula can do to a person, but, now, Renfield was a sane person before, which means Dracula can turn anyone into Renfield, a far scarier thought than one Renfield existing somewhere in isolation. There is still a layer of separation between the viewer and Renfield: the tragic delusion. Renfield is wrong and insane, and the audience, like Seward before them, observes Renfield live and die in delusion.

Seemingly, the biggest reframing Renfield 2023 does is posit “What if Renfield is not only the point of view character but also undeniably correct in his delusion?” That is why Dracula’s Whole Blood carries infallible life giving properties: because Renfield has always believed it does. (Likewise, rather than ambiguous mad strength, eating bugs genuinely gives Renfield and any of Dracula’s other familiars super strength and reflexes.) However, if Renfield is now correct and has the opportunity for growth and change as an audience insert character, the pendulum has swung to necessitate a vehicle or mechanism to explore how the average audience member can become Renfield through Dracula’s interference (and how Renfield’s foil Teddy Lobo can become a Dracula familiar). The answer to that problem is very simply an abusive codependent relationship. This is pretty blatantly the point of the film, especially since Renfield sums himself up as a codependent during the climax, but there are more specific examples as well.

The opening, midpoint and denouement of the 2023 film take place in character Mark’s Dependent Relationship Anonymous Addiction Group (DRAAG) within the gym sector of a church, where Renfield explicitly (and the film implicitly though Dracula’s dialogue during pinch point confrontations with Renfield) identifies the relationship between servant and master as similar to the codependent relationship of Caitlyn and her narcissist boyfriend. Beyond the obvious, Caitlyn also, despite herself, finds herself defending ska music as one of her partner’s interests, just as this film indicates Renfield’s life obsession was given to him by Dracula as Renfield is capable of letting go of his bugs after he makes a breakthrough. Most interestingly, a use of double entendre occurs when Teddy Lobo replaces Renfield as Dracula’s familiar; because Dracula is aiming for world domination and Lobo’s gang, led by his mother, has lofty ambitions, the pact between them comes with the romantic image said by Teddy that Dracua should meet his mother (McKay, 2023).

Much of the audience distance from Renfield in the earlier referenced works came from comparison to more sane characters (or a saner Renfield in a cold open), so much of the audience sympathy for Renfield in this film comes from comparison to other characters. Nicholas Hoult’s Renfield only does the Dwight Frye laugh when preparing to kill abusers and drug dealers, and Teddy Lobo serves as a shadow to Renfield (being the weaker element to a criminal enterprise) especially after supplanting him as Dracula’s familiar because of the contrast of “Drug Use and Bug Use.” While Renfield abandons the bugs as part of his new life early into the story and treats “bug use” as part of the curse that puts someone under Dracula’s spell, he consumes the largest amount possible in the climax and puts up the most credible attack against Dracula possible (meaning no correlation between the bugs consumed and being under Dracula’s thrall). Renfield consumes the bugs for strength, and he is ultimately correct, so he can consume that for strength independent of Dracula, but Teddy Lobo, established to be in the cocaine trade, also uses cocaine and takes his bugs via snorting, making him more vulnerable to Dracula’s influence because he is treating it as a hit not the disgusting source of strength it is (McKay, 2023).

As the last vestiges of syphilitic imagery in the 2023 film, the seductive Dracula also takes form as a decaying corpse clinging to Renfield when the title henchman tries to escape Dracula’s destructive influence. There is some symbolism in Renfield that a fair analysis must ignore, because if Dracula’s Whole Blood were syphilitic in this film, it would not have those life-giving qualities (the syphilis subtext is only here because this is a Dracula story). Along those same lines, the narrative of Renfield’s backstory only hazily corresponds to the 1931 film; Renfield was not present to attend high society with Dracula or assist him in procuring any of his successful victims after the boat. The name of the DRAAG leader, Mark, is most likely unimportant on a larger scale, while being a notable Christian name.

The recent data that Whole Blood can efficiently combat preventable deaths raises an interesting implication in that the preventable deaths and collateral damage of the story (Renfield himself, the gang’s foot soldiers, Rebecca’s sister, and the other DRAAG participants) are the ones healed by Dracula’s blood. Dracula’s blood does not save the leaders of any given faction (Dracula himself, Teddy’s mother, the police captain and Rebecca are figureheads whose deaths would necessarily be conclusive, but the film never uses the blood to heal any of them, just the unnecessary preventable ones).

The final image of Renfield is that pitcher of Dracula’s blood on a table in the church next to a bowl of some bread product (likely muffins), and the caricatured nature of that imagery masks it somewhat, but that is a holy sacrament, perhaps a picnic version but a holy sacrament nonetheless. Does this entail some commentary on or against organized religion? Perhaps; if someone at a later date can delve into that interpretation, it may be helpful for overall analysis on the film; but there is another simple implication. Because the film is dealing directly in the redemption of Renfield and his ideology, and Renfield has always been a symbol of warped religious devotion, this sacrament is most simply the ritual necessary to redeem R. M. Renfield in this movie. In that sense, Renfield finally gets to rise above John the Baptist. Renfield first partakes of the bread of DRAAG by attending and opening up to it, then dies opposing Dracula, but gets to live again from the miraculous blood of Dracula, becoming an admittedly haphazard Christ figure. Both were necessary for the redemption of Renfield (but the purpose of this essay is obviously to focus on the blood).

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2016/09/dracula-85-years-later-vampire-is-still.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2015/02/tod-brownings-dracula-defense-of-often.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2021/06/dracula-was-count-resigned-to-his.html

Dracula: Was the Count resigned to his eventual destruction?

 

By Doug Gibson

I absolutely love Bela Lugosi’s portrayal of Count Dracula in the 1931 classic. He is pure aristocratic evil, able to put on a facade of gallantry yet betray it in mere seconds with a deadly glare at Van Helsing. Also, even in fine attire, in his own domain, in a dungeon, with rats, bugs, whey-faced brides or a cringing, spider-eating Renfield, he conveys malicious evil deeper than the filth around him. In that deepest part of his existence, his dead heart rots darker.

Why, though, did Lugosi’s Count Dracula ditch his Romanian, Hungarian playfields, where he had his pick of the scared villagers, and easy escape to his coffins filled with native soil, and go to alien England, with a mere few coffins and shovelfuls of native soil? Why choose such a conflicted, weak minion as the anonymous, unloved Renfield as his companion? And why set up shop, in Carfax Abbey, so close to such a deadly rival as Dr. Van Helsing? Why seek the virginal, well-protected Mina, the intended of the feckless Jonathan Harker, but whose back is closely watched by Van Helsing?

I’ve watched Lugosi play Dracula many times. I can knock away the silly claims that Dracula is a stagy film, or slow. Every frame is necessary — with the possible exception of the asylum employees played for laughs — to establish and maintain Lugosi’s Count’s sinister, evil, egotistical persona. But recently, I’ve added this interpretation. Did Count Dracula move to London, with its unknown attractions and more dangerous temptations, with the intention of ending his long, endless existence?

Dracula is a slave to his passion, his thirst for blood. It cannot be satiated, whether the victim is a mere flower girl or society belle Lucy. He knows well he cannot resist tasting his pretty neighbor Mina. He cannot even haul up stakes and flee after Van Helsing exposes him with the mirror parlor trick. In fact, Dracula, although nearly claiming Mina’s life due to his blunt force of personality, is merely pitiable at his end. He lies in his coffin, chased into the bowels of Carfax Abbey after being betrayed by the ill-fated Renfield, and submits to an anticlimactic, off-screen death at the hands of the vampire hunter Van Helsing.

Was the Count so vain as to think that no harm could come to him in his coffin filled with native soil in the basement of a rotting abbey? Van Helsing didn’t even have to break a lock to stab the Count in the heart. I think not. I hypothesize that Dracula himself was tired of living for centuries, that he chose his trip to London, a land of new blood and unseen dangers, as a deliberate step to the end of his existence. Although the script allows no confirmation, I think Lugosi’s Dracula must have known that he was to be the neighbor of his most feared enemy, Van Helsing.

Of course Dracula tried to prevent his death. His natural greed and cold evil did not dissipate in his last adventure, and he nearly succeeded — for a brief moment — in vanquishing Van Helsing. He allowed nature, his generations-old greed and lust for blood, to be his undoing.

The strongest evidence for Dracula’s death wish is found early in Dracula’s journey to London when he encounters Mina, her dad, Lucy, and Jonathan at the opera house. He says, wistfully, “To die, to be really dead, that must be glorious!” Mina Seward replies, “Why, Count Dracula!” and Dracula adds, “There are far worse things awaiting man than death.”

Dracula fights, he makes an effort to save himself, but he will not move from his final home. As a result, he is vanquished, but it is an honorable end for the old fiend.

Horror movie expert Frank J. Dello Stritto, who along with other experts have mulled over Dracula’s motives in his final days, opines that the slow, thousands year-plus lives of Dracula is conveyed by Lugosi’s mannerisms. Dello Stritto says, “He (Lugosi) put into his performance a lot of subtle touches to make Dracula seem from another world: the odd pace of his speech, the use of his cape, his very slow movements compared to the other cast members’ … A lot of actors who play Dracula are ordinary men trying to appear extraordinary, and not quite succeeding. Lugosi’s character is like Dracula himself — an extraordinary being trying to appear ordinary, and again not quite succeeding.”

I once wrote this of Dracula, and I stand by it. “I have seen “Dracula” scores of times, and Lugosi is the key to the film. He is a tall, courtly, menacing figure who promises a fate worse than death. And that is the appeal of these early horror films compared to the sadistic gore-fests of today — a fate worse than death awaits the vampire’s victims. That fate is conveyed to perfection in the scene where Lugosi’s vampire murders actor Dwight Frye’s cringing, pathetic, mad disciple Renfield. Dracula’s exterior is charming. But his filthy interior attracts darkness, fog, storm, chill winds, rodents, flies, spiders, blood and undeath.”

Dracula was a slave of his filthy existence. Pleasure had long been usurped by bloodlust. It was a tremendous feat for the Count to keep it up for centuries. But he was tired, and chose London for his grand finale. He became, finally, really dead.

If you have not seen Bela Lugosi’s Dracula, do yourself a favor and watch it. It can be accessed at Amazon Prime, for a price. Or buy Universal Dracula Collection on Blu Ray.

(This essay originally appeared at StandardBlogs)

Book explores Count Dracula on the big screen

Review by Doug Gibson

While reading a BearManor Media book on the vampire film, "Son of Dracula," there was a quote from a book title, "Count Dracula Goes to the Movies: Stoker's Novel Adapted," McFarland, 2017, by Lyndon W. Joslin. The title hooked me and I grabbed a review PDF copy from McFarland.

In the forward, Joslin accurately explains that film is a distinct medium from literature. A novel presented as a film must play to visual strengths. Too much allegiance to everything in the book can make a film stodgy, overlong, boring. As an example he notes that Hammer's "Horror of Dracula" deviates considerable, actually overwhelmingly, from Bram Stoker's novel. Nevertheless, it is a superior, compelling tale that captures the menace of Dracula and the danger he places others in. It's a good, scary film. A comparison is perhaps Jess Franco's dull "Count Dracula," a lifeless attempt, even with Christopher Lee, to make a decent adaptation of the novel. A poor director didn't help either.

Joslin's book is better suited for the devoted genre fan. It's too exhaustive for a casual fan. Even I had no idea that films such as "Drakula Istanbulda" and "Hrabe Drakula" were out there. But I am a big fan, and I watched them and others via the Internet. There are 18 "Dracula" adaptations analyzed by the author. The overviews are well done and filled with not only comparisons to Stoker, but other vampire literature frequently is cited. I recommend not reading straight through the book. It's an unfair slog to just read through. Take time to watch one of the films, then continue reading about another film, watch that that film, and then read another. It's better enjoyed as a reference book.

The author appreciates the 1931 "Dracula," and Bela Lugosi, he notes, is the iconic Dracula, but Joslin also favorably compares the overlong spanish-speaking "Dracula" to Tod Browning's. The mere presence of Lugosi overwhelms the Spanish version, and indeed the other films noted in "Count Dracula Goes to the Movies." Many are very well made, and more faithful to Stoker, but where are they now? Only Lugosi's "Dracula" represents the time-tested visual ideal of Dracula. His staying power is secure 90-plus years after he assumed the role on the stage. Christopher Lee runs a strong second to Lugosi. Joslin's essays on the Hammer films are a fun read. He accurately notes that some films could have benefited from more screen time from Lee. He also notes that the threat of running water to Dracula is represented by Hammer's producers.

The author does an excellent job taking the stuffing out of the poor 1979 adaptation with Frank Langella and the way overrated "Bram Stoker's Dracula." I'd be interested in knowing how Joslin feels about the 2020 miniseries of "Dracula." I loathed it, but I respect Joslin enough to get his take one day.

Many more films are analyzed. There's the classic Universal series of Dracula-related films. The author gives appropriate props to the stylish "Dracula's Daughter" and "Son of Dracula," while noting that John Carradine's Dracula was almost a bit player in the two "House Of ..." films. Reading Joslin on "Son of Dracula," as well as reading the aforementioned BearManor Media book on "Son of Dracula," reveals that Bela Lugosi would never have been an appropriate choice to portray Count "Alucard" in "Son of Dracula." The awkward, menacing, cuckolded Dracula in that movie fully represents the actor Lon Chaney Jr. Lugosi is too cool, and too successful with his vampire brides, to be Count "Alucard."

Besides the Hammer essays, there is a section called "Shades of Stoker" that include both 1970s' "Count Yorga, Vampire" films with Robert Quarry. There's even a section of extremely obscure, micro-budget films that are related to Dracula and vampires. While they are interesting, I think more in-depth space should have been devoted to older, "shades of Stoker films" such as "Condemned to Live," "Dead Man Walk," "Return of Dracula," "The Vampire's Ghost," "Blacula," and, Bela Lugosi's Columbia genre film, "Return of the Vampire."

But this is a great read. It's cheaper via Kindle at Amazon. Joslin knows his subject; feel free to disagree, that's what fans do. But respect his opinions. and again, don't make it a long slog of reading. Take a chapter, watch the film (most are so easy to find nowadays with streaming) and then go on to the next film.

‘Dracula’: Was the Count resigned to his death?

By Doug Gibson

 

I absolutely love Bela Lugosi’s portrayal of Count Dracula in the 1931 classic. He is pure aristocratic evil, able to put on a facade of gallantry yet betray it in mere seconds with a deadly glare at Van Helsing. Also, even in fine attire, in his own domain, in a dungeon, with rats, bugs, whey-faced brides or a cringing, spider-eating Renfield, he conveys malicious evil deeper than the filth around him. In that deepest part of his existence, his dead heart rots darker.

Why, though, did Lugosi’s Count Dracula ditch his Romanian, Hungarian playfields, where he had his pick of the scared villagers, and easy escape to his coffins filled with native soil, and go to alien England, with a mere few coffins and shovelfuls of native soil? Why choose such a conflicted, weak minion as the anonymous, unloved Renfield as his companion? And why set up shop, in Carfax Abbey, so close to such a deadly rival as Dr. Van Helsing? Why seek the virginal, well-protected Mina, the intended of the feckless Jonathan Harker, but whose back is closely watched by Van Helsing?

I’ve watched Lugosi play Dracula many times. I can knock away the silly claims that Dracula is a stagy film, or slow. Every frame is necessary — with the possible exception of the asylum employees played for laughs — to establish and maintain Lugosi’s Count’s sinister, evil, egotistical persona. But recently, I’ve added this interpretation. Did Count Dracula move to London, with its unknown attractions and more dangerous temptations, with the intention of ending his long, endless existence?

Dracula is a slave to his passion, his thirst for blood. It cannot be satiated, whether the victim is a mere flower girl or society belle Lucy. He knows well he cannot resist tasting his pretty neighbor Mina. He cannot even haul up stakes and flee after Van Helsing exposes him with the mirror parlor trick. In fact, Dracula, although nearly claiming Mina’s life due to his blunt force of personality, is merely pitiable at his end. He lies in his coffin, chased into the bowels of Carfax Abbey after being betrayed by the ill-fated Renfield, and submits to an anticlimactic, off-screen death at the hands of the vampire hunter Van Helsing.

Was the Count so vain as to think that no harm could come to him in his coffin filled with native soil in the basement of a rotting abbey? Van Helsing didn’t even have to break a lock to stab the Count in the heart. I think not. I hypothesize that Dracula himself was tired of living for centuries, that he chose his trip to London, a land of new blood and unseen dangers, as a deliberate step to the end of his existence. Although the script allows no confirmation, I think Lugosi’s Dracula must have known that he was to be the neighbor of his most feared enemy, Van Helsing.

Of course Dracula tried to prevent his death. His natural greed and cold evil did not dissipate in his last adventure, and he nearly succeeded — for a brief moment — in vanquishing Van Helsing. He allowed nature, his generations-old greed and lust for blood, to be his undoing.

The strongest evidence for Dracula’s death wish is found early in Dracula’s journey to London when he encounters Mina, her dad, Lucy, and Jonathan at the opera house. He says, wistfully, “To die, to be really dead, that must be glorious!” Mina Seward replies, “Why, Count Dracula!” and Dracula adds, “There are far worse things awaiting man than death.”

Dracula fights, he makes an effort to save himself, but he will not move from his final home. As a result, he is vanquished, but it is an honorable end for the old fiend.

Horror movie expert Frank J. Dello Stritto, who along with other experts have mulled over Dracula’s motives in his final days, opines that the slow, thousands year-plus lives of Dracula is conveyed by Lugosi’s mannerisms. Dello Stritto says, “He (Lugosi) put into his performance a lot of subtle touches to make Dracula seem from another world: the odd pace of his speech, the use of his cape, his very slow movements compared to the other cast members’ … A lot of actors who play Dracula are ordinary men trying to appear extraordinary, and not quite succeeding. Lugosi’s character is like Dracula himself — an extraordinary being trying to appear ordinary, and again not quite succeeding.”

I once wrote this of Dracula, and I stand by it. “I have seen “Dracula” scores of times, and Lugosi is the key to the film. He is a tall, courtly, menacing figure who promises a fate worse than death. And that is the appeal of these early horror films compared to the sadistic gore-fests of today — a fate worse than death awaits the vampire’s victims. That fate is conveyed to perfection in the scene where Lugosi’s vampire murders actor Dwight Frye’s cringing, pathetic, mad disciple Renfield. Dracula’s exterior is charming. But his filthy interior attracts darkness, fog, storm, chill winds, rodents, flies, spiders, blood and undeath.”

Dracula was a slave of his filthy existence. Pleasure had long been usurped by bloodlust. It was a tremendous feat for the Count to keep it up for centuries. But he was tired, and chose London for his grand finale. He became, finally, really dead.

If you have not seen Bela Lugosi’s Dracula, do yourself a favor and watch it. It can be accessed, in parts, via YouTube (here) or for pay at Amazon OnDemand.

(This essay originally appeared at StandardBlogs)