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Dracula has always been the most erotic of monsters, an insatiable freak in the streets and between the sheets. Bram Stoker introduced the character in the 1890s, the same decade English speakers began using the expression “little death” (from the French petite mort) to equate orgasm to demise. Every movie made from Stoker’s landmark of gothic fiction (there are too many to, ahem, count) has acknowledged the seductive allure of the vampire. But to find its purest expression, you have to go back to one of the first — to Count Orlok, the grotesquely murine menace of F.W. Murnau’s unauthorized, silent-era Nosferatu. This creeping abomination is a far cry from the tall, dark, and handsome Draculas who stylishly slinked down winding staircases in the years (and adaptations) to come. All the same, he is a creature of morbid magnetism, attractive in the way that oblivion is attractive, in a way only Freud could really explain.
Nosferatu, an elegantly sinister remake of Murnau’s 1922 classic, is at its best when suckling at the same vein of psychosexual desire. It’s written and directed by Robert Eggers, who couldn’t be a better fit for the material — because of his obsession with the look and the language of the old world, yes, but also because of how his movies so often and so perversely present evil as a forbidden fruit ripe for the picking.
Up in the Carpathians, within that ruined castle, the story is always the same, give or take a harem of bloodsucking maidens. (It’s Hoult’s second run through this iconic, endlessly restaged passage, after the monochromatic flashbacks of his noxious Renfield.) Of course, you don’t explicitly remake Nosferatu — as opposed to simply going back to the source material — unless you’re eager to play with the specific, loathsome image of Orlok, the rodent-like personification of death that Max Shreck immortalized in the original. Who but Pennywise himself, Bill Skarsgård, could fill those shoes and approximate those sunken, cadaverous features?
Even without an instantly immortal villain, this Nosferatu casts a spell. Visually, sonically, atmospherically, it’s another bottomless banquet from Eggers, a gothic horror movie of classical grandeur and a touch of madness. The cinematographer Jarin Blaschke, who’s shot all the director’s previous treks into dark history, leeches the imagery of luster, giving it a bluish, nearly black-and-white pallor that suggests a corpse drained dry. If his palette is pointedly stark, his compositions are breathtaking, especially when the environments are looming over the characters, threatening to swallow them like the gathering forces of darkness.
Linguistically, the film is less flavorful than Eggers’ other creepshows, which studiously reproduced the exaggerated vernacular of their respective old-world settings. Naturally, he saves his most purple dialogue for his Lighthouse star, Willem Dafoe, who summons some properly playful gravitas as the Van Helsing analogue, a doctor brought in once Orlok leaves his homeland and Ellen falls further under the sway of his supernatural death-drive pheromones.
Dread is always oppressive in this filmmaker’s work — a blanket thickly and heavily draped over the characters, over the audience, over every moment. That suits Dracula well, as the story draws its power from the depiction of evil as a spreading threat. Eggers strikingly visualizes that idea with a shot of Orlok’s shadow reaching, finger by crooked finger, across spires and cobblestone. Scholars have long written of the racist undertones of Stoker’s invasion plot, but the panic here is more viral in nature. Arriving in the wake of a global pandemic, just as the original did, Eggers’ Nosferatu is awash in signs of the plague.
At a certain point, Dracula is still just Dracula, regardless of what it’s called. Murnau found that out the hard way when he was hit with a lawsuit by the Stoker estate, even though he changed the names of the characters and a few key details of the plot. A century later, it’s a challenge to get any fresh drops of dramatic lifeblood out of this material. It takes a true visionary like Francis Ford Coppola to do something new with a story that’s been brought to the screen literally dozens of times.
Nosferatu is now playing in theaters everywhere.
Conclusion
Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu is a visually stunning and atmospherically eerie remake of the 1922 silent classic. While it may not bring anything radically new to the Dracula story, it does offer a unique and unsettling take on the vampire mythology. With its blend of gothic horror and psychosexual tension, Nosferatu is a must-see for fans of the genre.
FAQs
Q: Is Nosferatu a faithful adaptation of the original novel?
A: While the film takes inspiration from the novel, it is not a direct adaptation. Eggers has taken creative liberties to make the story his own.
Q: Is Bill Skarsgård the best Orlok?
A: While Skarsgård is a talented actor, the role of Orlok is iconic and has been played by many actors over the years. Each interpretation is unique and has its own merits.
Q: Is the film too scary for general audiences?
A: While Nosferatu is a horror film, it is not excessively gory or violent. However, it may not be suitable for younger viewers or those who are easily disturbed by atmospheric tension and suspense.
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