Nosferatu
A reimagining of F.W. Murnau 1922’s Nosferatu: A symphony of horror, which in turn was inspired by Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Director and writer Robert Eggers has created his gothic version of this classic tale, one he’s wanted to tell for decades.
The film opens with Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) calling to the ancient mythical vampire Nosferatu (Bill Skarsgård), pledging herself to his will. It’s a powerful, beautiful, and atmospheric opening, using spectacular wide shots to capture the architecture and mood of the period – scored with the deep baritone of Nosferatu that invades our ears. With Ellen’s pale face appearing out of the darkness to meet Nosferatu’s ghost figure, visible only through the swaying curtains, it perfectly sets the tone for this poetic gothic horror.
Flash forward to Germany in 1838 and Ellen is newly married to Real Estate Agent Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult). Afflicted by night terrors brought on by Nosferatu, it’s only Ellen and Thomas’s love that gives her stability. To ensure their financial security, Thomas accepts a commission to sell Schloss Grünewald, a large property in their town, to Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgård), a mysterious figure who lives overseas. The contract requires a signature, so off Thomas goes, travelling abroad to Count Orlok’s castle and leaving Ellen exposed to Nosferatu. Cue the gothic nightmare.
To watch a brilliant technical creator like Robert Eggers tell one of his favourite stories is an absolute pleasure. His style suits mythological, mixing raw visceral realism with the supernatural tones of gothic horror. Though he’s wanted to tell this story for a while, he lacked the experience and technical ability to bring his vision to life. Through his work on films like The VVitch and The Northman, as well as bringing onboard frequent collaborators Willem Dafoe and Ralph Ineson, he’s able to accomplish a masterful retelling.
It’s all beautifully shot, infused with an eerie score to create a cold, stark, visceral world. A less surreal film than some of his others, Eggers has meticulously designed the mise-en-scène to give us an immersive re-telling. Filling the screen with huge wide shots of dark, magical woods, and a foreboding castle. As a fan of mythology and the finer details, I always admire Eggers’ dedication to his research to give his stories such rich authentic detail, from using Romanian actors in the village, to capturing the fashion of the period.
The pacing is well thought out. Rather than totally becoming immersed with the depths of surreal hallucinations once Thomas is afflicted by Nosferatu, Eggers holds the balance between normality and mysticism using the two couples, the Hutters (Lily-Rose Depp and Nicholas Hoult) and the Hardings (Emma Corrin and Aaron Taylor-Johnson). The Hardings give the rational perspective of the story, simply trying to restore Ellen’s health while her husband is away, with Aaron Taylor-Johnson’s character in particular refusing to accept the supernatural. The characters are akin to the sensibility of Pride and Prejudice – which makes the horror that unfolds both more compelling and realistic.
As for the Hutters, they are consumed by Nosferatu, living this vivid hallucination through brilliantly choreographed camera work and engrossing performances. Nicholas Hult delivers as the terrified husband compelled to save his wife, while Lily-Rose Depp is a triumph. I didn’t know what to expect having not been overly impressed by her work in The Idol, but here she is formidable. Delivering emotional anguish, deep possession, and phenomenal physical exertions – superbly portraying a woman trapped between the expectations for a woman in this period, and the taboo of the spiritual and more sensual desires she has for Nosferatu.
The truth comes out through the introduction of Willem Dafoe’s character, Professor Albin Eberhart Von Franz, known for his knowledge of the mystic arts. His sincere approach to abolishing Nosferatu and his eccentric personality brings dark humour and levity. As a character-actor, Dafoe’s overly animated facial expressions always work superbly in these genres, particularly in this period where the only sources of light are flickering candlelight and roaring fires. He’s paired well with Raph Ineson’s Dr. Willhelm Sievers – the two serve as the rational characters, being in the know of the supernatural, while they aren’t the hunters we’re accustomed to seeing in vampire films, their approach is more intellectual and level-headed.
Before moving on to the title character, I would be remiss not to mention Simon McBurney as Knock, Thomas Hutter’s real estate boss who sends him on his quest for Count Orlok’s signature. McBurney is an extraordinary surprise, tapping into the type of raw animalistic horror we’re used to seeing with an Eggers film.
Onto Nosferatu/ Count Orlok. By a clever move on the part of the production and marketing, the character is never more than a shadow, a silhouette, or a looming dark figure in any trailer or poster. In the film we’re given a brief flash of him at the start, but Eggers then uses the environment to give us a slow progressive reveal – flickering candles, standing at the back of shots in looming castles so we only see a small dark foreboding figure.
When he’s revealed in all his glory, Bill Skarsgård is transformed, nigh on unrecognisable. While most prosthetics give some inkling to the actor under the mask, here I was hard pressed to see him at all. The only resemblance I found was in a later scene with a movement reminiscent of his performance as the title character in IT – but arguably I’m only seeing one performance in another and not the actor. With so many layered prosthetics and his deep baritone voice, Skarsgård becomes the horrifying and ghoulish character of nightmares – Skarsgård has found his niche.
Already high in my estimations, it needs several viewings to take everything in. A blend of Eggers’s raw, darker, and visceral indie film style with a more mainstream approach, Nosferatu is a totally atmospheric, wonderfully rich, top gothic horror film with a moving poetic finish.
Overall ****1/2