Courtesy of Focus Features

Robert Eggers’s “Nosferatu” reanimates cinema’s oldest vampire, stripping away the romantic veneer of modern interpretations and brings an adaptation that is brutal, seductive and, above all, uncompromising in its vision of Gothic horror. 

In “Nosferatu,” Ellen Hutter (Lily-Rose Depp) becomes entangled with the horrifying Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgård) through visions and a sense of dread at an early age. After some peace from his grasp, she crosses paths with him again after her husband Thomas (Nicholas Hoult) sells the Count a property in their town on a business trip. Drawn to Ellen’s beauty, Orlok plots on her and arrives in their village, spreading death and despair in his wake. As fear and plague take hold of the town, a desperate group of villagers band together to confront the growing threat of Orlok’s evil.

“Nosferatu” draws inspiration from F.W. Murnau’s 1922 adaptation, particularly in its expressionist qualities and atmospheric approach to horror. Eggers’s reimagining builds upon what made the 1922 version so timeless, but elevates it further with modern cinematic techniques and a deeper exploration of the story’s themes. The silent-era classic is beautifully transformed into a carefully curated modern horror masterpiece. While the film is a slow burn, it keeps audiences engaged through and through, and rewards the patient viewer with an unforgettable, bone-chilling experience.

In each of his four feature films, Eggers has proven himself as a master of atmosphere, drawing on his deep understanding of folklore and worldbuilding to create stories that feel hauntingly real. Like Eggers’s past work, “Nosferatu” leaves a lasting impression long after the credits roll. In “The Witch,” the suffocating atmosphere and themes of religious paranoia creep up on the viewer, while “The Lighthouse” has viewers feeling the same isolation and madness that the characters face through its surreal imagery and narrative. Both of these films showcase Eggers’s ability to craft stories that unsettle audiences. “Nosferatu” continues this tradition, garnering critical acclaim upon release and high praise from audiences.

It is impossible to discuss an Eggers film without mentioning the almost obsessive attention to historical detail that shapes his work. His early career as a production designer is evident in every set piece, especially in “Nosferatu,” where every detail on screen feels fleshed out and lived in. Even with a color palette so bleak and gray, the film is still visually intriguing and is enhanced by a terrifying soundtrack, scored by Robin Carolan, who also scored Eggers’s previous film, “The Northman.” Likewise, Eggers’s dialogue is sharp as ever, with period-specific dialects and cadences that flow authentically within the Gothic world. The costume design is equally impressive, with every outfit striking a balance between runway-worthy high fashion and historical authenticity. There is never a single technical aspect that is looked over or skimped on, and it pays off. Eggers is now “the guy” for moody period pieces, and “Nosferatu” may be his most refined work yet.

Every single scene, from the opening to the conclusion, is both visually and emotionally striking. Viewers feel the same horror the characters feel as they walk through the bleak streets of the Victorian German town, but it’s not a horror that jump scares or thrills momentarily. Instead, it’s a horror that creeps deep into the audience’s skin and truly disturbs from scene to scene. There’s no time to breathe, as the film’s technical elements are so immersive and believable, reminiscent of older German expressionist horror films, such as “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” and, of course, the original 1922 film “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror.” Eggers is able to maintain the qualities that made these films so memorable and timeless and translate them into a modern film that never feels outdated or like a mere recreation of the classics. 

In addition to the film’s technical triumphs, “Nosferatu” is a film that is greatly complemented by its performances. The film’s A-list cast delivers on this end, with obvious standout performances from Depp and Skarsgård. 

Depp is so physically committed to this role, contorting and twisting her entire body with such intensity, it almost seems as if she was born to embody this type of sensual, body horror-driven role. On the other end of the spectrum is Skarsgård, who is no stranger to playing horror monsters (having previously played Pennywise the Dancing Clown in “It” and “It Chapter Two”). Skarsgård is unrecognisable in his historically accurate vampire garb and his growling Transylvanian voice. Every moment of his screen time is commanding, practically demanding the full attention of every set of eyes in the theater.

The supporting cast further elevates Eggers’s vision, with each actor bringing a distinct presence to the world. Willem Dafoe, a frequent collaborator of Eggers, plays Professor Albin Eberhart von Franz, whose intensity and resolve makes him a force in the fight against Nosferatu. Hoult also delivers a grounded performance as Thomas Hutter, providing a human anchor amidst the film’s chaotic and supernatural undertones. Even smaller roles, such as the townsfolk, feel essential, with each actor adding to the suffocating dread that fills the narrative. For example, the crew aboard the ship transporting Orlok to the town contributes significantly to the growing tension in the film. Their paranoia and subtle shared glances culminate in a horrifying scene, serving as a prelude to the terrors Orlok has yet to unleash upon the town.

At its core, “Nosferatu” is a meditation on appetite, both human and monstrous. Orlok’s declaration, “I am nothing but an appetite,” echoes through the film, defining its central theme. The story examines desires that consume: Friedrich Harding’s longing for his wife, shadowed by the dangers of pregnancy in that era; Ellen’s search for companionship and understanding; Orlok’s thirst for blood and eternal youth, reflecting society’s obsession with vitality; Thomas’s greed for wealth and Herr Knock’s mad pursuit of recognition and validation from Orlok himself. These cravings intertwine, driving the film’s Gothic horror and revealing the destructive power of unchecked desire. Though much of Eggers’s work comes across as very literal, it is clear that he wanted to explore the things that unravel humans, using desire as a vehicle to get his point across. In Nosferatu, Eggers posits that unchecked desire is not only destructive but ultimately futile, leaving behind only emptiness and ruin. 

9/10

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