NOSFERATU (2024)

There have been so many iterations of the vampire archetype, including more than 170 film adaptations of Bram Stoker’s seminal 1897 novel Dracula, that it’s exceptionally difficult to leave an impression on a contemporary audience’s mind. With Robert Eggers (The Witch) having crafted some of the most visceral and unnerving cinema of the last decade, it’s academic to assume that he could create something memorable.

While there may not be anything drastically new in Eggers’ recent interpretation of Nosferatu (this classic tale’s been remade four times now, after all), it’s certainly memorable, and even succeeds in injecting the director’s personal vision into an age-old story. In Eggers’ Nosferatu, the visuals stun, the effects terrify, and while pacing issues cause the film to lull slightly in the middle, sensational performances bring the story right back on track for a mesmerising climax.

If there were a film that had a chance of challenging the original’s aura even remotely, it would be Eggers’ Nosferatu. With both The Witch (2015) and The Lighthouse (2019) demonstrating an acutely unnerving atmosphere, the former theatre director and designer clearly understands how to create a palpable mood. From the very opening shot, it’s clear this film will be no different: a young woman wakes and sits alert in bed, calling out to a demon that speaks to her from beyond.

For anyone who enjoyed the antiquated vernacular of the characters in The Witch, you may rest assured, for you shall not be disappointed. Here, the dedication to the old-fashioned speech immediately augments the Gothic aesthetic, and even plot information, characters’ innermost fears, or our principal villain’s motivations are all divulged in such old-fashioned lingo. Personally, I enjoy the contrived nomenclature that always seems to find itself in Eggers’ work, but I can understand that it’s not for everyone.

However, one thing that strikes me as inarguable is the incredible visuals on display in the most recent Nosferatu adaptation. Frequent collaborator Jarin Blaschke helms the camera once again (as he has done for all the director’s films thus far), and delivers a Gothic aesthetic so intense it occasionally feels like you are watching a film while wearing a pair of sunglasses. The use of shadow and chiaroscuro lighting is brilliant, helping to convey the dark foreboding and baleful tidings that find themselves on the horizon.

Additionally, many of the set pieces (the Transylvanian castle with its roaring fireplace in particular) create a superlative texture. Much like how Eggers did with the living quarters and working stations of a New England lighthouse, many of the rooms in Nosferatu end up feeling like a compressed chamber that’s slowly shrinking around our characters. Using intelligent camerawork, some sequences feel uncommonly claustrophobic, and we’re left with the sensation that a primordial predator is uncomfortably close.

Ultimately, it’s the imagination behind Nosferatu that assures its success. While not wholly innovative, there are enough novel ideas attached to our antagonist, his presence, and his powers for him to feel fresh, even if he has been dead for millennia. Between Bill Skarsgård’s nerve-wracking showing and the vision Eggers has brought to the character and the world he inhabits, this classic villain remains an ominous beast, existing somewhere on the threshold between mythology, folklore, and the occult, which just so happens to be the director’s speciality.

Nosferatu isn’t a straight adaptation, strictly speaking, with there being additional dialogues and scenes that you’ll not find in the original or any of the remakes. While this decision is commendable, and allows the film to be about as unique as it could be, it also may contribute to some structural issues in the story. Particularly, there were some sections in the middle of Nosferatu that had me feeling slightly bored and, as much as I hate to say it, it’s not the first time I’ve encountered this feeling in one of Eggers’ films.

The Northman (2022), which was heavily marketed as an action film, adapts Shakespeare’s Hamlet, a play in which our protagonist struggles to take action. Unfortunately, Eggers never addressed this central issue, and the film suffered as a result. While the Dane’s internal conflict is essential for the meditative tone of such a philosophical play, the stage and the silver screen are very different mediums: The Northman felt neither like an action film, nor an introspective character study, and became a disappointing outing for an emerging talent.

Needless to say, I approached Nosferatu with a mix of eager excitement and repressed sense of trepidation that this film might follow suit. Around the mid-point of the story, it feels like things needlessly slow down, and you might feel nervous that similar pacing issues will sink another visually striking film. However, I am not so sure if I should attribute this to the narrative structure of the film itself, or if it is due to the fact I have taken in quite a lot of Nosferatu recently: between revisiting F.W Murnau’s original 1922 masterpiece, or taking in Werner Herzog’s tedious and camp Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979), I have now watched this story three times in the same number of months.

Even though others thought it felt quite long—despite the fact it was only a little over the two-hour mark—I’d be willing to give this film the benefit of the doubt. Moreover, any lull that you might experience is quickly overshadowed by the scintillating climax. Even for those of us who know how the story ends, there’s no dearth of suspense, and the final sequences feel palpably tense.

While this was certainly ‘The Robert Eggers Show’ as another dark, gloomy dive into folklore and mythos, Lily-Rose Depp threatens to steal the limelight from our auteur director. I was not expecting to be blown away by her performance. There are plenty of actors in the limelight today with famous parents, and not all can live up to the expectations as the scion of an artistic family. However, Depp does this and then some. She brings a shocking physicality to her portrayal of a dangerously possessed young woman, and her showing easily becomes the most memorable aspect of the film.

Of course, she’s not acting in a vacuum; other performances certainly aid Depp’s, as everyone is on top form here. Nicholas Hoult (The Menu) as her husband, Thomas Hutter, imparts the same sense of terror I would feel if I found myself in a cold castle with an even colder host, and Simon McBurney (Mission: Impossible—Rogue Nation) disgusts and disturbs as Herr Knock, the deranged realtor who serves as Count Orlok’s fifth column. Willem Dafoe is a delight (like always) as yet another eccentric doctor, and it’s amusing to note that Dafoe starred in Shadow of a Vampire (2000) as a fictionalised Max Schreck, the actor who played the original Count Orlok. Furthermore, Ralph Ineson’s casting was perfect for his part, and he performs it ably.

As far as I’m concerned, this 2024 adaptation is second only to the original, and all involved have done a terrific job of making something memorable out of such a time-worn tale. With the final image being reminiscent of a macabre Hieronymus Bosch painting, replete with Gothic grotesquerie and bloody, symbolic resonance, Nosferatu is a visual delight and cinematic treat, one which will not be easily forgotten.

USA • UK • HUNGARY | 2024 | 132 MINUTES | 1.66:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH • GERMAN • ROMANIAN • RUSSIAN

Cast & Crew

director: Robert Eggers.
writer: Robert Eggers (based on ‘Nosferatu’ by Henrik Galeen, itself inspired by Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’).
starring: Bill Skarsgård, Nicholas Hoult, Lily-Rose Depp, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Emma Corrin, Willem Dafoe, Ralph Ineson & Simon McBurney.