‘Nosferatu’ Review
There is no shortage of adaptations of Bram Stoker’s seminal horror novel, Dracula. A character so popular in culture, Stoker’s text has become the blueprint for many vampire films playing with the creature's mythology. While many of the official adaptations have earned their place in the pantheon of horror films, including Tod Browning’s Dracula and Francis Ford Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula, there’s an unofficial adaptation that has had a grip on cinema for longer than either of the translations mentioned above: F.W. Murnau’s 1922 silent film, Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror. Alongside Robert Wiene’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror is a defining example of German expressionism and how its aesthetic qualities perfectly lend themselves to the atmospheric terror cinema can evoke while also serving as an example of creative license for adaptations.
It’s the creeping dread, overwhelming darkness, and dedication to immersion that director Robert Eggers employed so effectively with his 2015 hit, The VVitch, that translates flawlessly to the latest adaptation of Murnau’s film (and subsequently, Stoker’s novel), titled Nosferatu. The latter dedication to immersing audiences in grim worlds and supernatural ambiance has made Eggers’s works stand out among his contemporaries. Still, that willingness to commit to authenticity and unwavering attention to detail will undoubtedly hold audiences back from entirely giving in to the vampiric delights that await in Eggers’ latest terrifying vision. Eggers's Nosferatu balances an all-consuming fear with the gruesome and the macabre to tremendous effect while retreading a familiar story and broaching topics of womanhood, sexuality, and toxicity. The result is a visual delight with sturdy support in its narrative that allows Eggers to accentuate thematic elements without betraying or straying too far from the source material.
Recently married, Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) is beginning to succumb to nightmares that she has not experienced since childhood. The dreams worry her as her husband, Thomas (Nicholas Hoult), temporarily leaves her behind for the Carpathian Mountains to have Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgård) sign documents to take possession of an abandoned manor in Germany. Through this journey, the production design, lighting, and cinematography collide to depict a harrowing atmosphere for Thomas and foreshadow a descent into darkness that he may never escape. It’s also here where Eggers plays again within The VVitch wheelhouse as the town below the mountain becomes overrun with gypsies, and he witnesses ceremonial acts not unlike what Eggers has depicted in the past. It’s a sequence that preys on Thomas’s deteriorating condition and requires a dedicated reluctance to accept that such nightmares exist within the world. However, upon his late arrival at Count Orlok’s estate, he becomes acutely aware of the evil presence engulfing him and fears that Orlok, otherwise known as Nosferatu, has set his sights on Ellen.
Meanwhile, Ellen has been left in the care of Friedrich (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and Anna (Emma Corrin), who are expecting their third child. Ellen’s presence and increasingly violent night terrors put a strain on the married couple’s relationship, and Friedrich is forced to seek outside help for Ellen by way of Doctor Sievers (Ralph Ineson) and the unconventional practices of Professor Albin Eberhart Von Franz (Willem Dafoe). There’s a way that Ellen’s storyline always seems to be the focus, even when Thomas is face-to-face with Count Orlok, which emphasizes how little Thomas matters in the film. Eggers wisely chooses to spotlight the corruption of innocence and how evil can be entirely overpowering. “Does evil come from within or from beyond?” asks Ellen to Professor Von Franz as she wrestles with the link she seems to have with such a malevolent being.
One of the significant deviations made by Murnau’s vision of Bram Stoker’s novel is the plague, which follows Orlok and is depicted by an abundance of rats. Since then, adaptations of Nosferatu have played with that to create an inhospitable atmosphere for its characters. It’s utilized to great effect here, generally employed for macabre imagery that shows evil's physical effect instead of just the psychological torment. Everything in Eggers’s vision seems concerned with darkness damaging individuals and society, unlike Werner Herzog’s previous 1979 adaptation, where evil was being interrogated through Herzog’s traditionally philosophical approach to subject matter. There are even ways in which Count Orlok is rarely fully visible (except for a very distinct mustache), which further demonstrates how little Eggers cares about Orlok himself. It’s an evil presence whose impact does not require him to even be in the room. The rats and the plague accentuate the physical damage more than a single individual’s actions ever could.
Where Nosferatu struggles is trying to deviate from the narrative structure of its source material. That’s not inherently a bad thing, but it places a lot of emphasis on everything else in the film to justify the adaptation. Depp’s performance is most notable, who channels Isabelle Adjani in 1981’s Possession far more than Adjani’s performance in Herzog’s Nosferatu The Vampyre. She is extraordinary in the film and commits wholly to a character who cannot decipher if her torment is internal or external. It’s a performance emblematic of the chaos Eggers tries to convey throughout Nosferatu. There’s some exploration of toxic relationships and female sexuality that works to varying degrees. However, even the clunkier elements of Eggers’ screenplay still work, thanks to Depp’s commitment to the material.
The way Depp takes command of the screen contrasts how Count Orlok is presented throughout the film, again furthering the notion that this is a film about Orlok’s impact rather than Orlok. That is not to say that Skarsgård’s performance isn’t noteworthy, but the terror of Orlok comes from how he takes hold of an entire city instead of his presence in a scene. It’s another formidable showcase for Skarsgård, who has come a long way from his Hemlock Grove days to becoming an established name in horror thanks to the It series and Barbarian. Everyone else is doing sturdy work that is neither career-best nor worth skipping over. Hoult has become dependable for genre fans, while Ineson and Dafoe have been instrumental to Eggers throughout his career. The only performance that verges on unimpressive is Taylor-Johnson’s, who always feels like he’s clashing with the atmosphere. He’s rarely given material that feels within his repertoire, and so the scenes with him often feel dragged down.
As mentioned, Eggers does a great job capturing a different feeling than previous adaptations, especially alongside his usual cinematographer, Jarin Blaschke, who understands Eggers’s vision better than anyone else at this point. Every setting features some of the most striking images in Eggers’s filmography. While it does not stray far from the established look of many of the director’s previous films, it feels significantly more grotesque and evil than his other works. Nosferatu often feels like the director has tapped into something genuinely unnerving that is brought to the screen in terrifying detail. It’s an incredible showcase of how grandiose horror can be while still feeling immersive and focused. While it may not be an original story, Eggers finds a different perspective of evil and turns it into a stunningly macabre vision of a world forced to live in fear and darkness.
