Decades after decadent ’90s gothic bouquets like Tim Burton’s Sleepy Hollow and Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula, director Robert Eggers (The Witch) emerges from the shadows with his greatest cinematic phantasmagoria yet: Nosferatu. And when we were craving it the most…
This Nosferatu is not merely a retelling of the infamous Dracula hijacking, but a reimagining that feels as classical as it does contemporary. Eggers conjures a vision of putrid, rotten, and downright gorgeous gothic horror that’s stunning, intelligent, and keenly self-aware. It’s all as lovely as it is unsettling, and the romance quality is much sexier than I would have ever guessed. The filmmaker’s flair for authenticity, his meticulous attention to detail, and his apparent adoration for carnage properly collide at last to create a work that is surprisingly sensual, mesmerizing, and, at times, almost funny.
At the center of the quiet madness in this macabre, ornate snowglobe is Lily-Rose Depp, as we’ve never seen her before. The greatest surprise this film delivers is her performance, which is magnetic, nuanced, and extremely physical. Depp transforms herself into what can only be described as a grotesque ballerina, pirouetting on the knife’s edge between vulnerability and ferocity. Her character could have quickly devolved into a flat, waifish stereotype, but Depp and Eggers imbue her with strength, anguish, and a hypnotic sorrow that seriously commands your attention. In a film with numerous powerful performances, she shines the brightest, marking the arrival of a movie star with the gravity of a black hole.
And the supporting cast is also nothing short of prestige, if maybe somewhat underutilized. Bill Skarsgård, stepping into the shadowy role of the ancient Nosferatu/Count Orlok, offers a take on the vampiric menace strikingly different from his predecessors. His Nosferatu is part predator, part forlorn lover—and all monstrous barbarian whose presence oozes with menace. Still, Eggers’ decision to use him sparingly, while purposeful, leaves me wanting more. When he does appear, he is a feral spectacle capable of casting fear across an audience. However, his Nordic-inspired look, complete with a Viking-esque mustache often dripping in blood, edges into sillier territory than I think was intended. While bold, this character choice occasionally clashes with the otherwise haunting elegance of the film’s aesthetic.
Speaking of aesthetics, the production design of Nosferatu is nothing short of a macabre masterpiece. Eggers creates a sprawling, black-rose fantasy that pays homage to German Expressionism while elevating its shadowy angularity into something grander. The sets are dripping with atmosphere: crumbling castles alive with dread, fog-laden forests, and candlelit chambers where the darkness feels swampy and alive. It’s goth kid heaven. The pristine cinematography frames every shot like a painting, and the lens carefully considers its every choice.
However, as much as Nosferatu is a feast for the senses, it doesn’t aim to shatter genre conventions. Eggers doesn’t reinvent the vampire mythos here, and perhaps he really doesn’t need to. What he does instead is refine it, distill it, and present it with a precision that feels fresh while still steeped in the familiar deadly archetypes audiences have been familiar with for over a century. This update, arguably the third notable iteration of Count Orlok, isn’t so much a reinvention as it is a proper resurrection.
A nearly perfect cinematic rendering, one of the film’s only noticeable missteps may be the depiction of Nosferatu himself. While the idea of a more barbaric, sensual, warrior-like vampire is intriguing, its execution leans too far into romance novel aesthetics. This could have worked better for a proper Dracula adaptation, but I’m not sure it’s as well-suited to the Orlok of it all. The addition of the Viking-like mustache, in particular, feels oddly out of place. It’s a minor distraction in an otherwise tightly crafted vision but one that stands out nonetheless.
Ultimately, Nosferatu is Eggers’ finest work to date. It is an accessible gothic cornucopia, offering something for everyone: the hardcore horror fans who revel in the darkest corners of cinema and the casual admirers of dark art looking to push their limits. It may not break the mold of gothic horror, but it polishes it to a gleaming, dark-as-night shine.
Nosferatu arrives in theaters on December 25th, 2024
Summary
With his take on ‘Nosferatu,’ director Robert Eggers continues to justify his place as one of our great modern cinematic visionaries. This iteration of Orlok is his magnum opus and deserves the attention of genre enthusiasts as well as serious awards season consideration.
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