“Nosferatu” - Film Review
For hundreds of years, humanity has been intrigued by the idea of vampires. They rise in the nighttime, feed on human blood, and usually have some creepy ulterior motives. They’ve been portrayed as sparkly, beautiful, ugly, good, evil, and just about any other adjective you can think of. One of the most famous vampires is Dracula, from Bram Stoker’s novel of the same name. Dracula has been portrayed on film in a multitude of ways, Nosferatu being one of them. F.W. Murnau’s 1922 Nosferatu is an unauthorized adaptation of Stoker’s novel, hence the name change. Over one hundred years later, a new filmmaker, Robert Eggers, is returning to Nosferatu’s castle for a modern reimagining that is decadent to look at, but hollow within.
Germany in 1838 is bleak. The threat of a plague looms, but Ellen Hutter (Lily-Rose Depp) is haunted by something far more supernatural. For years, a vampire (Bill Skarsgård) has been stalking her in her dreams. In her waking life, Ellen has just married Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult), a real estate agent. Thomas’ boss (Simon McBurney) gives him the opportunity to make a big sale, but he has to travel to the remote home of Count Orlok to close the deal. Despite being warned by locals, Thomas travels to Count Orlok’s castle and begins his descent into madness. Ellen realizes that the Count is the same vampire who haunts her dreams and that she must be the one to destroy him.
Eggers has made quite the name for himself among horror fans. His first feature, The VVitch, is widely regarded as one of the best recent films in the genre. The Lighthouse, his second feature, has gained a massive cult following. Nosferatu (2024) is Eggers’ fourth feature and displays how much his craft has developed in his relatively short career. It’s a film that’s bathed in shadows, but never once is action or emotion lost in the darkness that looms over everything. Nosferatu (2024) revels in what the darkness can hold, the possibilities that lurk and linger. There’s a fine line between thrill and fear, something Nosferatu (2024) knows all too well. In the opening scene, there’s an exquisite moment when the vampire comes to Ellen’s room. He appears in the billowing of her curtains, an ethereal being who is not bound by the laws of time and space, but the laws of darkness and light.
One of Eggers’ strengths is the ability to create worlds in his films that are utterly and wholly immersive. The castles and homes of Nosferatu (2024) beg to be explored. There’s a bleakness in the work that hangs over each of his films. A proximity to death that is inescapable. It’s this fear and this existential angst that laid the groundwork for the German Expressionist movement that began in the 1920s. The original Nosferatu is one of the most popular examples of this film movement, and Eggers pays his dues in his version of the story. Willem Dafoe, who plays a professor in Eggers’ Nosferatu (2024), and Depp relish in the freedom they’re given to be big and bold with the outward expression of their inner emotions. So much of Depp’s performance is physical as she thrusts her entire body into the throes of passion, disgust, and rage. It’s these scenes where Depp is at her best, but when the film requires her to be still and meditative, she isn’t able to get to the pulpy heart of the matter.
Nosferatu (2024) is a tale of obsession, an all-encompassing sensation. A film about vampires should affect every sense of those viewing. After all, vampires are inherently linked to lust by their need for blood. Nosferatu (2024), like vampires themselves, is obsessed with the flesh of humans. The sounds it makes, the warmth it exudes, and the way it moves. The camera travels swiftly throughout the world Eggers has created, while the film’s sounds are guided by heartbeats, heavy breathing, and whimpers. It’s an auditory experience that creates a haunting atmosphere and transcends the confines of a screen.
As stylistically and technically impressive as Nosferatu (2024) is, one can’t help but notice that it doesn’t have much to say. Vampires exist because humans want to make sense of something they cannot understand. “Does evil come from within us or beyond?” It’s a question we’re still asking hundreds of years after the story of Dracula was written. With all the remakes and different versions of this same story, Eggers is missing a unique angle to make Nosferatu (2024) stand out beyond its visual prowess. The script tries to say something about female desire and sexuality, but never goes anywhere beyond the surface observation that a woman’s desire, especially in 1838, is overlooked.
What Nosferatu (2024) lacks are a plot and a conflict that warrant a 132-minute runtime. The original silent film is a meager 94 minutes, and Eggers’ update doesn’t add enough of anything to make sense of the bulked-up length. Nosferatu (2024) is much like Count Orlok’s castle. It’s a magnificent piece of visual artistry shrouded in a cold emptiness that cannot be ignored.
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