The original Nosferatu premiered in 1922 as a silent, black-and-white German horror. This expressionist masterpiece is now over 100 years old and yet, still manages to stay relevant.
In many ways, Nosferatu was the film that we were never supposed to see.
Before depictions of the undead villain haunted theaters worldwide, copyright issues lingered in production. To create the movie, the director, F. W. Murnau, needed to gain rights to the original “Dracula” book. However, the author’s widow, Florence Balcombe, refused to give away rights to the story.
They made it anyway, and copyright battles ensued for decades afterward.
The initial German tapes were destroyed, but before it could be completely eradicated, the film made it to American audiences and ran from there.
What’s more, the original actor in Nosferatu, Max Schrek, was an elusive figure. It was common folklore that he was an actual vampire, and at one point was rumored to have never existed.
Count Orlok is a bloodless representation of death itself. The main character is terrifying because he is unknowable, he is everywhere and nowhere at all. Similarly, much mystery remains about Max Schrek, even a century after his initial performance as Nosferatu.
It is most likely that Schrek, which roughly translates to “fright,” in German, was a background character. He was illusive out of a desire for a complete separation from the ghoul-faced mystic that he played on screen. Likely, we will never know about the man behind the iconic character.
The stories of his life, or lack of it, have led to continued mystery and inspiration for filmmakers, making the film itself, and the idea behind it, eternal.
Robert Eggers was one of these enthusiasts, bringing audiences a retelling of Nosferatu on Christmas day.
Everyone knows the name Dracula, but this film is somewhat dependent on an understanding of the story.
The movie is true to its predecessors in a way that can make it difficult to comprehend when viewed through a modern lens.
If you’re used to red-eyed Twilight vampires with sparkling skin, Nosferatu might be startling. The character is jarring and more of a leech than a heart-breaker.
This is done for a reason.
In the book, Nosferatu is a caricature for xenophobic beliefs, and society’s view of “the Other.” He is not meant to be a misunderstood empath, he is meant to be terrifying, reminiscent of fear in the face of the unknown.
Different mediums have undoubtedly changed the message of the story over time.
Re-tellings, music, myths, and even gaming have evolved the story in a way that makes the task of staying true to its origins a difficult one.
Yet, Robert Eggers translates the story well while paying homage to its inspirations.
For instance, when Nosferatu bites his victims, he does so from the chest, not the neck. This seemingly insignificant directorial change adds a disturbing element that would have been lost otherwise.
Nosferatu’s desperation shows his inherent desire for connection and closeness to the heart juxtaposed with the gruesome act.
I’ve never been the biggest paranormal enthusiast. I find what humans are capable of far more scary than a demon possession.
So, although skeptical, I went to see the movie on December 31 at the Alamo Drafthouse. It’s a dreary and melancholy beginning, with Ellen (played by Lily-Rose Depp), bathed in moonlight. She’s reaching out into the night, searching for guidance, regardless of who or where it comes from.
Nosferatu’s presence appears and asks her to pledge her eternal devotion to him. In her desperation and loneliness, Ellen agrees. The movie begins with this promise, the guarantee that in a way, the people in this story were cursed from the beginning.
Years later, Ellen dreams of convincing her new husband (played by Nicholas Hoult) to stay home after having a dream about upcoming horrors. He refuses, and the couple is plunged into a task to escape and, inevitably, destroy Nosferatu.
The film itself is disturbing, even hard to watch at times. Nosferatu was created to serve as a rat-like reminder of past horrors, and his time on and off screen is chilling and disorienting.
When he comes to find Ellen, he brings the plague with him. The etching shadows and sound design are expertly done, creating an atmosphere of unnerving dread.
As for the cast, everyone is phenomenal. The highlight for me was Willem Dafoe, who’s made a name for himself playing simultaneously off putting and comforting characters.
Another great aspect of the movie is the erosion of time. Throughout the movie, the audience grapples with dark scenery and ebbing time frames. This distortion of day vs. night cultivates a disorienting atmosphere over time.
The whole thing is mystical, frightening, and unsettling. This separation from reality, conveys a feeling of claustrophobia while only ever alluding to the passage of time. It has mastered the art of “show don’t tell” which leaves the viewer feeling uneasy even in unproductive scenes.
The complaint that this movie was “gross” isn’t a valid critique. That’s the point,to be gory, entitled, and honestly, unpleasant to watch. I would argue that Nosferatu serves to make you feel disgusted, not frightened.
It’s not shock value, it’s a deep and lingering revulsion.
In that way, Robert Eggers achieves exactly what he set out to do with this movie. He carries on the legacy of a disturbing cinematic universe where death and decay are the center point.
