Film Review – Nosferatu (2024)

Nosferatu (2024)
Writer/director Robert Eggers’ adaptation of Nosferatu (2024) doesn’t stray too far away from the blueprint laid out by the 1922 silent classic. It stays consistent to the Dracula/Count Orlok mythos without taking wild creative swings as seen in Shadow of the Vampire (2000) or Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992). This is a story we’ve seen a million times before, retold from studios like Universal or Hammer to comic books and television shows. Needless to say: We aren’t breaking new territory here. But what Eggers does provide is his own vision. He bathes his material in heavy, gothic dread. He doesn’t just show us evil; he places us right in the middle of it. We stand side by side with the characters to either stand up against or succumb to the demon.
This is Eggers’ most accessible outing. While The Witch (2015) is one of the best horror films of the last decade, and both The Lighthouse (2019) and The Northman (2022) are great in their own right, each requires the audience to meet Eggers at his own eccentric level. Nosferatu operates differently. It pulls us in from the get-go, bringing us into a world of wickedness, eroticism, and terror. Just in the same way Count Orlok puts his victims under a trance, so too are we hypnotized by the craftsmanship on display. It’s like stepping into a living nightmare, where nothing is as it seems and danger lurks behind every corner. There’s helplessness in every frame – as though we are witnessing the characters slowly descend into madness but cannot do anything to stop it.
Right away, the production design (Craig Lathrop) and cinematography (Jarin Blaschke) recreate 1800s Germany with deep, black shadows and expressionistic angles. Colors are washed out – there is no warmth or tenderness in the aesthetics. Buildings, alleyways, and staircases go in all sorts of odd directions, reminiscent of the designs in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) or the work of M. C. Escher. Rats are everywhere, creating a parallel between the vampire and The Black Plague. Although I wouldn’t necessarily call this universe “inviting,” there is a beauty to it. An opening shot has the camera follow a character through the fictional town of Wisborg. Everywhere we look is filled with textures and movement: People, animals, carriages, shops, boats, etc. There’s eye candy all over the place. An establishing shot of the Transylvanian castle that houses our villain is so gorgeously rendered that it could be mistaken for an oil painting.

Tell me if you’ve heard this story before. Real estate agent Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult) gets assigned to a long journey to meet the mysterious Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgård) who looks to buy property in Wisborg. By doing so, Thomas leaves his wife Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) to the care of his friends Friedrich (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and Anna Harding (Emma Corrin). To no one’s surprise, Orlok turns out to be a blood sucking vampire, who has developed a telepathic obsession with Ellen. To stop Orlok from reigning terror upon Ellen and others, the group turns to medical physician Wilhelm Sievers (Ralph Ineson) and Dr. Albin Eberhart von Franz (Willem Dafoe) who specializes in the occult. It is Franz that appears to understand Orlok’s motivations and can best guess his next move.
And that is all there is to it. If we strip away how good the film looks and sounds, the narrative itself is straightforward. But Eggers isn’t concerned about the intricacies of the plot. The success of Nosferatu is hinged entirely on mood, atmosphere, and tone. For that, it accomplishes its goal. There is a mounting sense of desperation. As Orlok’s mental attacks on Ellen become stronger, the question of what to do becomes urgent. Friedrich is the skeptic – unwilling to believe that her screams of agony are induced by an evil force. But what he – as well as the rest of the characters – come to realize is that this is a world where vileness truly exists. The sooner they understand that the sooner they’ll be able to fight back.
The entire cast make the most of their opportunities, but a few stand out. Willem Dafoe once again turns in an excellent performance as Franz. He inhabits the character as a balance between knowledgeable and zany, which makes it even more difficult for the others to trust him. In contrast, Nicholas Hoult is very good as the humble, mild-mannered Thomas Hutter. With this, The Order (2024), and Juror #2 (2024), Hoult has had himself one hell of a year (we’ll just go ahead and not mention The Garfield Movie). He plays Hutter as a man completely out of his depth. As soon as they meet, Hutter is overwhelmed by Orlok’s presence. When he finally realizes the dire situation he is in, Hoult expresses it with a look of sheer, spine-tingling fright.

But let’s not fool ourselves. The two most memorable performances are from Bill Skarsgård and – to a higher degree – Lily-Rose Depp. For Skarsgård, he makes a complete 180 degree turn from his work as the killer clown, Pennywise. His version of Orlok is a brooding, mangled, demented monster. Sporting an impressive mustache and a voice pulled straight out of the depths of hell, Skarsgård makes Orlok an otherworldly menace. His work is only topped by Depp, who fully commits to the tortured soul of Ellen. The role is physically demanding – requiring Depp to toss, turn, convulse, and contort her body through nearly the entire two hour plus runtime. But Depp meets the challenge head on. She not only lets us see Ellen at her most vulnerable, but with a growing fortitude that makes her so much more than a damsel in distress.
There are scenes and set pieces that operate completely dipped in fantasy. The way characters float in midair once in Orlok’s trance, or how they oscillate between being awake to being in a dream at any given moment. The movement of the camera can be unusual and disorienting. At one point it flies into the darkness of Orlok’s castle as if attached to a high-powered drone. Another time, it will maneuver around Ellen in the middle of her night terrors to capture her completely upside down. And of course, there’s the use of Orlok’s shadow. Just like in the silent version, Eggers uses Orlok’s silhouette as an arbiter of doom. We often see his shadow before we see Orlok himself – on the wall, the ground, on window curtains, etc. One of the most striking images depicts the shadow of Orlok’s hand engulfing the entire town, signaling his rising power and influence.
Nosferatu doesn’t do anything new in terms of story or theme but makes up for it with stellar execution. The artistry of form and performance make up for whatever familiarity there is in plot. Robert Eggers continues to impress with yet another work that is dark, menacing, and spellbinding all at the same time. It may not reinvent the wheel, but it does a damn good job of recreating it.