It's not every day a filmmaker sets out to remake one of the most significant works of cinema in the last century, but Robert Eggers is no everyday filmmaker. After making his feature debut with the staggering 2015 film The Witch, he has taken us again and again into rich worlds that are uniquely yet timelessly terrifying, crafting experiences that feel less created by modern men than myths conjured from the dark shadows of horrors of the past. Though 2019's The Lighthouse was a confined story of madness consuming two lonely men on an island and 2022's The Northman was a revenge epic about a man swallowed up by his insatiable desire for blood, each was interested in stripping away more conventional storytelling elements to get to the core of the characters living (and dying) at their specific moments in time.
Despite drawing from direct source material, Eggers' Nosferatu has that same sinister soul to it. It is a film that is both deeply reverential of F.W. Murnau's 1922 original while remaining refreshing, admirably willing to explore plenty of its own ideas on a formal and thematic level. If you are ever going to remake a horror classic, this is the way to do it. While not as magnificent as The Witch, which remains the pinnacle of Eggers' filmography thus far, it similarly gets into the blood and guts of fear, remaining faithful to the material while bringing a frightening visual depth to every shot. Rather than attempt to step out of the long shadow cast by one of cinema's first vampires, it embraces the gorgeous darkness it finds itself in, instilling it with a new sense of awe and terror. It doesn't exhume the bodies of horror movies of old as far too many remakes do. Instead, it gives it a bewitching, beautiful, and brutal new life.
The one at the center of this vision is Lily-Rose Depp's troubled Ellen Hutter whose face we first see emerge from the shadows in a killer opening shot as she is entranced by the terrifying being that is Nosferatu. While we only see him in a brief flash before she then convulses on the ground, the stage is set as we leap forward years to see how Ellen is still struggling with this being from her past. Depp, who was recently done a grave disservice by the disastrous series The Idol, is astounding here, immersing us in the delicate life her character is hoping to build — one that will soon begin to shatter. In every mesmerizing monologue and tragic look she gives, we see a person who knows the impending danger but is unable to get anyone around her to actually listen. This includes her unwitting husband Thomas, played well by Nicholas Hoult, who goes off on a business trip from hell that will bring him right into the menacing clutches of the infamous Count Orlok.
Count Orlok (aka Nosferatu) is played by Bill Skarsgård, but you wouldn't know it from looking at him save for brief moments when you can see the actor's eyes peering through at you. Though no stranger to playing mythical monsters (see: the recent hit-and-miss It films), Skarsgård disappears into this role like never before. He strikes an imposing figure even when just lurking on the edge of the frame. He is then made more distinctly human when we get a better look at him It's a quite different interpretation, with some odd facial hair — making him seem like Ned Flanders became Nosferatu — though that doesn't make him any less terrifying. His eerie voice, his looming presence, and the way the film withholds our ability to see him just as it lays bare in others make for a patient, petrifying journey. Wonderfully shot by cinematographer Jarin Blaschke (who has worked on all of Eggers' films), it is a breathtaking film to soak in as every solitary shadow and flicker of light grabs hold of you.
The story, which makes Ellen much more of a focal point, hews close to the original in a way that was jarring at first, though proved to be effective on a second watch. The way Eggers instills Nosferatu with his own sensibilities (which are more than explicitly erotic) despite working from a story first written by others is nothing short of a dark joy. It's another myth that feels classic in its narrative construction, but it's one that he can call his own in the execution. As the film builds to a dark embrace in a showstopper of a final shot, Eggers gets his pound of flesh and then some. Rather than bite off more than he could chew, he has crafted yet another visceral, vibrant vision worth sinking your teeth into. ♦
Nosferatu
