Nosferatu

Robert Eggers made a significant impression with his 2015 directorial debut "The Witch", and has continued to impress me since. A reimagining of "Nosferatu" at his helm seemed like a dream come true, and after many years, it finally came to fruition with somewhat mixed results.

As with the original 1922 film and Werner Herzog's surreal 1979 remake, Eggers mostly honors the source material here. The original film itself was a blatant derivative of "Dracula," so anyone who knows the bones of that classic story will more or less already have the lay of the land in terms of what happens in "Nosferatu".

Firstly, the attention to detail here is impeccable; the period costumes and sets are dazzling, and the cinematography is top-notch, with repeated uses of muted grey nighttime sequences that border on black-and-white (intentional I'm sure, as an ode to the Murnau original). In the latter act, as rats and plague take over the streets, there is a palpable sense of rot that is highly effective. Given that Eggers has proven his excellence in these departments with his previous films, it is no surprise that the finer details and visuals are uniformly stunning.

As far as performances are concerned, we have a strong cast here. Lily-Rose Depp (whom I'd never seen in anything prior to this) gave a formidable performance as the haunted Ellen Hutter, who is pursued by Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgard), a malevolent vampire whose connection to her is emboldened when her husband Thomas (Nicholas Hoult) is assigned to handle estate matters for the Count. Willem Dafoe is as spunky as ever here as an occult expert who attempts to help the Hutters, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Emma Corrin give effective performances as the Hardings, friends of the Hutters who oversee the troubled Ellen while Thomas travels to Orlok.

All of these aforementioned elements give the film a real leg up, and approximately the first half of it (largely consisting of Thomas's travels into Transylvania and first encounter with Orlok) are engrossing and beautifully contrasted with Ellen's "melancholic" (and eventually possession-like) episodes back in urban Germany. However, once the story returns its focus to the city, the film seems to stall its momentum. One of the notable differences in this reimagining is that the focus revolves more around the Ellen character (aptly named "Lucy Harker" in Herzog's version) and the Hardings, but the unfortunate thing is that it never feels like the audience gets to know them any better for it. This is especially so in the case of Ellen, whose character has a slightly different spin in Eggers's screenplay, specifically in terms of her relationship to Orlok. The result feels like something of a missed opportunity, and the proverbial stake is driven in even further when one considers the film's running time, which is considerably longer than both the 1922 and 1979 versions, and yet those films often feel more involved. There is a strange amorphousness about the 2024 version's latter half that left it feeling enervated, especially against the ominous and suspenseful first hour.

The film's conclusion will hold no surprises for those who already know the previous films, but Eggers's staging of it is nonetheless spectacular and visually effective--and this is a fact that remains true about the film as a whole. Unfortunately, it does stumble a bit in the latter half as it seems to attempt to expand the material without ever fully reaching a satisfactory fever pitch. All that being said, the film is a gothic visual marvel in its own right, upheld by stunning cinematography and uniformly solid performances. It is imperfect, but it is a showstopper in more ways than one. 7/10.

It is boring. The acting is way too much and ridiculous overacting. The crying, the terrified faces and behaviour all felt so overplayed and unnecessary. The scenes, images and costumes are very impressive but that's about it. I didn't like any of the characters, Lily Rose Depp and her husband are not my definition of beautiful or handsome. The count's "breathing" is very annoying too.

The scenes as individual images were really well-made. I like historical settings in movies but overall, the film felt pretentious and self-indulgent, trying too hard to impress without delivering real meaning or a real story.

I usually love Robert Eggers' work - his films have this unique ability to pull you into eerie, unsettling worlds that linger with you long after the movie has finished. But his take on Nosferatu just didn't land for me.

The pacing was painfully slow, to the point where it felt like it was dragging for the sake of atmosphere rather than tension. And while I can appreciate deliberate storytelling, this just felt uninspiring, like it was going through the motions without that signature spark Eggers usually brings to his projects.

To make matters worse, I couldn't stop seeing Dr. Robotnik from Sonic the Hedgehog every time Nosferatu was on screen. It's probably not fair to the film, but the resemblance was so distracting that I found myself more amused than unsettled.

Ultimately, Nosferatu lacked the sharp, visceral energy that made Eggers' previous work so compelling. Instead of feeling haunted, I left the theater feeling underwhelmed.

I initially found Nosferatu to be an acceptable, if underwhelming watch the first time I saw it. I think when you love a director's work, it's good to rewatch a film, unburdened by expectations, and see how you really feel.

I will say, I found myself liking Nosferatu a lot more the second time around. It's eerie, dreamlike nature is unsettling and really wraps you in. The larger-than-life power of the titular vampire feels like an omnipresent curse upon our characters and the town of Wisburg. Also, if you're a sucker for winter movies, this one does tickle that fancy quite well.

Speaking of which, this film, as expected, looks absolutely phenomenal from beginning to end. Not only is it wonderfully shot, but the costumes and sets just look fantastic. There are little nuances in how the characters act as well that are accurate to the time that I really appreciated as well. How, Nicholas Hault's Thomas Hutter, when confronted with his wife Ellen's (Lily Rose Depp) ravings, his immediate reaction is to ask her not to say these things again, rather than seek help. It's reflective of the repressive, image conscious times, and like many an Eggers film, reflects how deeply he cares about depicting the period accurately.

A lot of this works because of the tremendous performances by the cast, who really sell their period flair. Hoult is fantastic as usual, but naturally, it's Depp's incredibly physical and demanding performance that is the highlight. She is remarkable in this film and dispels any notion that her success comes (entirely) from her parentage.

As much as I loved Depp's performance, I honestly wish we learned more about her character. The depth of her loneliness is never explained outside of one scene, and how she even managed to contact Orlock is a bit confusing as well. I felt like this relationship could've been expanded upon, which would've been legitimately interesting.

Bill Skarsgard truly melts away under unbelievable make up and costuming as Count Orlock. I found him even less recognizable here than as Pennywise. And you have heavy hitters like Willem Dafoe, Ralph Ineson, Emma Corrin, and a surprisingly great turn from Aaron Taylor Johnson as well.

Yet, I still found Nosferatu somewhat hard to connect to. Skarsgard's incredible performance aside, I just found the talk of Orlock being this mythical, terrifying presence a bit hard to square with the somewhat goofy character he ends up being.

I'd honestly rather him have less lines and be seen less. Some horror movies are scarier when the villain isn't present, and some are just better when they are. (I'd argue a Nightmare on Elm Street or Terrifier are examples of the latter). This movie tries to have it both ways, and Orlock is just not scary. It's the moustache for me. And his death is even funnier, when you really think about it. It's such an anticlimactic end to this force that's portrayed as beyond our comprehension for so much of the film.

As it stands, I do have a higher opinion of Nosferatu than I initially did, but I still think it's easily Robert Egger's weakest film. I kind of wish he went weirder and more surreal with it. It's a studio film, I get it, but consequently, it lacks that sense of depicting a world where the belief systems and worldviews were so different from our own.

This film did nothing that Coppola's 1992 Bram Stoker's Dracula didn't already do. Coppola's film both thematically, and visually broke ground (costumes, creature design, set pieces, etc.), and had a far more expository, but also sinister and apprehensive feel. Not to mention it was also far more carnal. Nosferatu on the other hand, just felt like a tamer, "nothing new to see here" re-make, with nothing remotely original in any depictions. Maybe if Nosferatu looked scarier than a bald Vlad Teppish ("The Impaler", "Dracul"), that might've helped. I give it a 5-6 with a "I wouldn't watch it again" rating.