Nosferatu Review: A Classic Tale Dripping with Atmosphere
Nosferatu is writer-director Robert Eggers’ new version of the 1922 classic of the same name, which is itself an unofficial re-telling of Bram Stoker’s Dracula.
The Hutters are fresh faced newlyweds. They are happy, but husband Thomas (Nicholas Hoult) wants to give his wife, Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp), the lifestyle he believes she deserves. As such, when he is asked to travel into the Carpathian Mountains to sell an elderly count a run-down piece of real estate suspiciously near to the Hutter’s own home, he goes against his worried wife’s advice, jumps on his horse and rides into the fangy mouth of danger. Yes, you guessed it, the count is none other than Dracula, I mean Orlok, otherwise known as Nosferatu, and he has one thing in mind, to capture the mind and body of Thomas’s wife Ellen… Oh, and drink her blood, of course.
Eggers’ film hits all the same major story moments as any other rendition of Bram Stoker’s famous tale, and contains the usual gothic eroticism. But it also manages to be different, mostly by mining the premise more deeply to produce scenes of heightened horror. For example, here Nosferatu is a zombie of sorts, kept alive after death by the devil, not a person but an appetite. There’s none of Christopher Lee’s brutal elegance, or Gary Oldman’s tragic charm. Count Orlok is a walking corpse who hides in the shadows, brought to terrifying life by Bill Skargard, who delivers a masterclass of technical acting.
Eggers also makes much of Orlok’s ability to take possession of young women. Ellen writhes and moans orgasmically when dreaming of Orlok, in a way that is recognisable from previous iterations of the story, but when challenged by Professor Von Franz (Willem Dafoe), an expert in the occult, and later by her husband, she full-body shudders, contorts on the bed, drools, plays mind games and then sexually goads. In these scenes one could almost be watching a toned down, period version of The Exorcist.
Perhaps Eggers’ cleverest spin on the genre is to take one of the tiredest tropes of gothic horror – that succumbing to erotic temptation is to give in to evil and to invite destruction – and turn it on its head. Here sex becomes a weapon for a woman to wield, which adds a surprising message of female empowerment to the proceedings.
However, Nosferatu’s biggest strength is its heady atmosphere of gothic gloom. The film is gorgeously shot, richly layered with flourishes of bravura style. One such flourish sticks in the mind: the shadow of Count Orlok’s hand stretches out and becomes massive as it swoops over miles of city to finally fall upon the Ellen Hutter’s dwelling. This sequence pays homage to the silent classic by taking one of its signature motifs, the shadow of Orlok’s clawed hands reaching over the sleeping Ellen, and expanding it onto a wider canvas, visually representing his supernatural power while creating a moment of pure cinematic awe.
As for the cast. Nicholas Hoult is well chosen to play the safe, well meaning, yet naïve Thomas Hutter, as is Aaron Taylor-Johnson as his cock-sure friend Frederick. Willem Dafoe is excellent as Professor Von Franz. Nobody does intense, unaffected eccentricity as well as he does. The star, without doubt, however, is Lily-Rose Depp, who, with her curved cheekbones, wide mouth and large heavy eyes, has a face which perfectly balances the angelic and the sexual. It’s not all about her appearance, though. She successfully manages to convey hope, desperation, and the madness of demonic possession with complete sincerity and commitment. She gives a tremendous performance and is one to watch.
Nosferatu is perhaps the most satisfying rendition of Bram Stoker’s tale, albeit based on an unofficial version. It might also be Eggers’ best film since The Witch, and is one of the most richly layered horror movies that this writer can think of.
