If you read my latest article on the philosophy of the Wolf Man, then you won’t be surprised when I tell you I’ve been putting a lot of thought into the Universal Monsters and what they say about modern society—specifically in the West. This is, of course, partly due to the revitalization of the Universal Monsters in modern cinema, with Leigh Whannell’s The Invisible Man (2020) and, most recently, Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu (2024). Now, I know Nosferatu isn’t a proper Universal Monster, but I do believe it’s the closest thing to an honest adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula that we’re going to get (with all due respect to Coppola’s 1992 masterpiece)—and I recognize the irony of a remake of an unofficial adaptation being heralded as such. Despite the “Universal Monsters” dictum resulting from the film productions of Universal Pictures, I’m sticking with the Universal Monster classifier because I believe, in some synchronistic sense, they represent Universal or collective societal fears.
This Land is My Land
At the core of the Dracula mythos lies the mundane yet damning business of real estate. Dracula’s reign begins with Jonathon Harker traveling to a foreign land, in this case, Transylvania, to finalize a deal with the titular Count. Interestingly, the outright use of capital consumption mirrors the consumption of the human, as represented by Dracula’s penchant for human blood. The acceptance of the Other in the British homeland not only expresses xenophobic views of Eastern Europe—with Christian iconography expressing a cultural clash—but illustrates the cannibalistic exploits of a wealthy upper class. On its surface, this seems more like an inditement of the foreign Other, but at the core of this unease is capital. It’s what separates him from his decrepit castle in a land he can no longer call home, having been drained of its resources, and into a new, industrialized society.
Blood Lust
Once you begin studying the Rolodex of vampire cinema, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a story that doesn’t revolve around a financially successful bloodsucker. Some outliers include The Lost Boys, John Carpenter’s Vampires, and Let the Right One In. But, more frequently we see a vampire or horde of vampires who live lavish lifestyles like those in Blade, Interview with a Vampire, Dark Shadows, and even Twilight. At the very least, the threat of the vampire comes in the form of an upper middle-class or wealthy outsider, shrouded in mystery. Along with a lust for blood comes a stronghold over the economy—local or global—that allows them to continue their debauchery unnoticed or unstopped. Commonly, their characters will be viewed publicly as virtuous wholly for their financial contributions, despite the questionable means of their wealth. In this way, wealth equals success equals good.
Boot Straps and Blood Racks
As previously mentioned, Blade presents an interesting turn of perspective when it comes to the wealthy/capitalist metaphor that lies at the core of the vampire. The titular Blade is a half-vampire who’s dedicated his life to destroying the threat of the dangerous upper-class. He then becomes a symbol of wealth who uses his means to destroy the larger capital threat. More so, he relies on Abraham Whistler, his human counterpart, to remain grounded despite his affliction. This could then be viewed as a tie to the lower class who reminds him of what he is fighting for. The Blade trilogy includes a vast array of vampires, from street-dwelling punks to millionaire yuppies, but there is no hesitation to show those higher in the social class system exploiting their low-class counterparts.
Shine a Light On Me
At the end of all vampire narratives—particularly those that deal with destroying the threat—comes the ultimate demise of the vampire threat, (usually) through one of two methods: 1) the burning light of the morning sun or 2) the violent plunge of a stake through the heart. Applying these methods to capitalism reveals two very harsh realities. The capitalist system as we know it can only be destroyed in one of two ways: through the revelation of capital exploits on a grand scale, through such unignorable amplification that those of all social standings will face it for what it is, or through a violent confrontation that almost always results in the death of innocents in the process. I’m reminded of a quote from Frederic Jameson, who said, “It’s easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism.” I fear this may be true.
