‘Nosferatu’ Review: Bill Skarsgard and Lily-Rose Depp Are Riveting, but Director Robert Eggers Rules This Haute-Horror Feast

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As a horror enthusiast who has seen his fair share of vampire films, I must admit that Robert Eggers’ take on Bram Stoker’s classic tale of Dracula, titled simply “Nosferatu,” is nothing short of mesmerizing. The film’s atmosphere is steeped in an otherworldly dread that harkens back to the stories of old, where the line between the mundane and the supernatural blurred, and fear crept under your skin like a sinister tendril.

Bill Skarsgard embodies the character with the cape, sharp teeth, and terrifying nail art. However, it’s Robert Eggers who infuses the wicked intention into the film ‘Nosferatu’. The movie seems to be cursed or enchanted, giving off a chilling atmosphere. With its blend of excitement, disgust, and beauty, this production feels like something Eggers has been striving for since his unnerving 2016 debut feature, ‘The Witch’. Immersed in heavy ambiance and morbid verse, there’s hardly any Christmas programming darker than this meticulously created nightmare.

As a devoted admirer, I’d like to highlight four unique aspects that make up the chilling oeuvre of Eggers. He masterfully weaves elements from history, folklore, religion, fairytales, and mythology into his works. His debut film transported us to 1630s New England, where a family, banished from a Puritan settlement, stumbled upon sorcery hidden within the dense woods. In his second offering, titled “The Lighthouse“, he immerses us in the tense isolation of two men in the 1890s on a desolate island off Maine, where they are tormented not only by the fierce elements but also the tempestuous emotions that rage within. His latest creation, “The Northman“, takes us back to medieval times and delivers an outrageous tale of blood and vengeance among the Vikings.

It was inevitable that Eggers would delve into Bram Stoker’s Dracula, drawing inspiration from the inky darkness of F.W. Murnau’s 1922 silent film masterpiece as a foundation, subtly referencing the 1979 Werner Herzog remake and Francis Ford Coppola’s 1992 reinterpretation along the way. Yet, Eggers’ Nosferatu stands apart as a unique, hypnotic work, demonstrating an exceptional harmony between director and subject matter.

Focus Features has granted Eggers full creative control and seemingly ample funds to bring his vision to life. It’s a haunting Gothic horror spectacle filled with rich visual elements, burdened by an atmosphere heavy with foreboding, tormented by both brutal violence and steamy sensuality, yet tempered by subtle winks of devilish comedy. However, be prepared, as the plague-ridden third act may cause you to shield your eyes in disgust if you have a dislike for rats.

In a mesmerizing portrayal, Lily-Rose Depp embodies Ellen, first appearing in a prologue set in the early 19th century, where she’s depicted as a socially detached teenager experiencing a difficult phase of her youth. Exhausted and sleepless in bed, she implores for comfort: “Please come to me. A guardian angel, a soothing spirit, a spirit from any heavenly realm. Can you hear my plea?” This ambiguous prayer suggests an underlying pagan belief system, a mysterious depth simmering beneath Ellen’s adolescent innocence; this duality becomes more evident in Depp’s acting as the story unfolds.

Ellen’s duality evolves with haunting power as she succumbs over time to the darkness she inadvertently awakened that night. In just a few terrifying minutes, Eggers establishes the inextricable bond in this story between sex and death. He gives us a bone-chilling glimpse of the title figure as a menacing silhouette seen through billowing curtains and a disembodied voice like a thunderous whisper from the bowels of the earth, both frightening and seductive. Much of Nosferatu’s dialogue, when communicating telepathically with Ellen, is in Dacian, a Balkan dead language that adds to the otherworldly chill.

A while after their initial encounter, Ellen has recently wed Thomas Hutter, a young real estate agent based in the fictional German town of Wisborg. Eager to advance within the company, he takes on a task assigned by his cheerful supervisor Herr Knock, which involves journeying beyond Bohemia towards an isolated castle nestled within Transylvania’s Carpathian Mountains. His objective is to secure contracts for the acquisition of a dilapidated Wisborg mansion from the enigmatic Count Orlok.

In Knock’s remark about the ailing count, there’s a playful suggestion that he’s almost dead, metaphorically speaking. Hutter fails to catch this, but Knock’s employer’s excessive flattery towards his new wife leaves him feeling awkward. McBurney, a founding member of the British experimental theater company Complicité, subtly hints at the growing madness that Knock has been trying to suppress, and later, in grand style, goes beyond all bounds once he completes his initial role.

In another foreshadowing moment, Ellen pleads with Thomas not to leave, revealing a chilling dream. In this dream, she arrived at the altar on her wedding day only to find Death standing there ready to wed her. She appears frozen with terror as she recounts the nightmare to her spouse, but unexpectedly bursts into ecstasy, claiming she had never been so content.

Eggers’ script is particularly skillful at subtly hinting at what’s to come. Aware that his story may be a familiar one, he cleverly plays with our anticipation and knowledge, all the while introducing his unique twists to the grim narrative.

Hutter’s voyage is a challenging one, with cinematographer Jarin Blaschke’s impactful visuals frequently draining color, giving the scene a near monochrome look. This effect is noticeable in night sequences and the snowy mountain backdrop that Thomas traverses.

At a rest stop within a Roma settlement, Hutter’s unease intensifies; despite not understanding their language, the urgent warnings from villagers are palpable and chilling. (In an attempt to quiet the crowd, the innkeeper utters a curse: “May the divine intellect of God confound you!”) Additionally, Hutter observes a mysterious ritual under cover of night, marking his initial encounter with the bewildering borderland between wakefulness and slumber that will later grip him at the castle.

In a dramatic, Gothic style reminiscent of James Whale’s horror classics, Eggers introduces Hutter with grandeur – the brooding Alpine landscapes and the eerie horse-drawn coach without a driver add to this atmosphere. The interior sets designed by Craig Lathrop are vast and decaying, creating an oppressive, almost suffocating environment for Hutter. Blaschke’s prolonged shots can create an illusion of a magnetic force that Hutter seems unable to resist. While the exterior shots depict a real Transylvanian castle, the interior sets exude a sense of crumbling grandeur and mystery.

If Hutter finds himself uneasy as he draws near, he becomes utterly terrified upon encountering Count Orlok, portrayed by Skarsgard in an exceptionally chilling manner that makes Pennywise appear more like a jester. Initially, we see only fragments of the cranky old vampire – a shadow in the darkness, scarcely visible under the flickering candlelight; a twisted hand with elongated, yellow-clawed fingers; eyes rimmed with darkness, flashing open when Thomas accidentally cuts his hand while chopping bread.

When his count is visible, he appears as a figure who looks ill and imposing physically, his body in a state of decay yet powered by superhuman strength, particularly when he suddenly sits up naked from his coffin. He breathes heavily, like a very sick old man, but exudes the aura of an all-consuming evil.

David White, an expert in makeup and prosthetics, manages to create a likeness between Skarsgard and Max Schreck’s portrayal of Nosferatu from Murnau’s film. However, Skarsgard brings more than just a resemblance to the role; he infuses his character with an intense sensuality that amplifies as he interacts more with Ellen. While he may not be the traditionally seductive vampire like Frank Langella in the 1979 Dracula, his scenes with “my affliction” are unsettlingly erotic. There’s also a hint of carnal desire in the way he voraciously consumes the blood of his victims.

As Orlok’s shadow consumes Ellen’s husband, she confides in her friend Anna (Emma Corrin) that she feels dominated by someone other than God. During Thomas’ absence, Ellen is residing with Anna and her affluent shipyard owner spouse Friedrich Harding (Aaron Taylor-Johnson). When his guest starts sleepwalking, having visions, and seizing, Friedrich summons the local physician Dr. Sievers (Ralph Ineson) for assistance.

One night at a distance, Orlok tells her, “Your husband no longer belongs to you.” He adds, “Imagine me… only me.” The deep, heavy accent and careful pronunciation of each syllable can make even common phrases like “Now we’re neighbors,” said to Thomas after the contracts are signed, amusing. Orlok is like a spooky version of Yoda with his old-fashioned choice of words and unusual sentence structure. However, instead of reducing the scary atmosphere, the humor intensifies the ruthless sense of impending doom that Orlok poses for Ellen, making his intentions for her more terrifying. Eggers’ writing has always been known for its use of archaic language; in this case, the dialogue is full of depth and flavor.

Before Ellen even begins to float off the bed, displaying scenes reminiscent of ‘The Exorcist’ and uttering mysterious messages from another realm, Sievers recognizes her condition surpasses his abilities. He seeks aid from his ex-professor from Switzerland, von France (Willem Dafoe), whose interest in the supernatural has led to him being dismissed by the medical community due to his unconventional beliefs.

Dafoe delivers his signature gravitas to the character, much like McBurney and Skarsgard relish the script’s unexpectedly wicked humor. He exclaims, “I have seen things on this earth that would make Isaac Newton want to return to his mother’s womb,” with von France’s customary dramatic panache. In this performance, Dafoe is at his best, infusing new energy and life into the final scenes as Eggers intensifies the action in harmony with the plague’s approach in Wisborg.

(Fun fact: Dafoe and Hoult both have Drac screen connections, the former playing Max Schreck on the Nosferatu shoot in Shadow of the Vampire, the latter as the Herr Knock counterpart in Renfield.)

In Eggers’ past movies, it is evident that his style is not derived from modern horror but rather from ancient tales that take on a heightened, eerie quality, pulsating with a subtle, unsettling malevolence that creeps beneath one’s skin. Some of the most striking scenes include Orlok’s journey across tumultuous seas to reach his new residence, his nighttime visits to Ellen, the destruction he causes as a warning to her, and the multitude of rats pouring out from the docks into the town streets.

The director effectively revitalizes the commonplace jump scare from contemporary horror films, making it genuinely startling rather than immediately humorous. Watching such a confidently crafted movie that skillfully generates and maintains fear is exhilarating; it’s so powerfully terrifying it grips you tightly from the start and refuses to let go.

As a gamer, I can’t emphasize enough how captivating the visuals of Nosferatu are. Blaschke’s cinematography is nothing short of enchanting – it flows effortlessly, exuding both elegance and menace through its masterful use of chiaroscuro lighting, ominous shadows, and the thick fog of darkness. The fusion of practical sets with CGI is flawless, particularly in a graveyard and mausoleum, a city canal or scenes at sea.

Lathrop’s design work spans from constructing an intricate replica of a Baltic port town in 1838 on set, which is vividly showcased in the initial scenes, to crafting highly realistic interiors such as the castle, the humble abode of newlyweds Thomas and Ellen, the lavish Harding residence, and a Romanian monastery where Thomas recovers after escaping the castle, all attended by nuns.

Linda Muir’s costumes are excellent – they may not be as striking as Eiko Ishioka’s flamboyant designs for “Bram Stoker’s Dracula”, but they are always true to character and appropriate. The corseted gowns and bonnets worn by Ellen and Anna contribute to the atmosphere of the era, along with the men’s suits, ornate waistcoats, and the rustic clothing of the peasants. Fashion enthusiasts will be captivated by the impressive outerwear such as von France’s overcoat adorned with a three-tiered capelet. The worn-looking furs on Orlok suggest Wallachian nobility, which complements his Vlad the Impaler mustache.

The ambiance is elevated by the harmonious blend of Damian Volpe’s robust soundscape and Robin Carolan’s somber score, which encompasses a variety from grand symphonic tones to tense, agitated strings, regional pipes and horns, and disquieting atonal growls.

Among Dafoe, Corrin is the exceptional member of the supporting cast, portraying a devoted mother adorned in luxurious clothing befitting a wealthy woman. She finds solace in religion, yet this does not shield her from a tragic fate. Corrin brings heart-wrenching pain to the character of Anna as she unravels.

In Hoult’s portrayal of Thomas, the distress is prolonged and intensely painful. The actor trembles with fear whenever Orlok appears, making his dread all the more tangible due to our limited understanding of the count, instead seeing only Hutter’s responses. As time passes, he weakens significantly, appearing close to death, yet somehow manages to find renewed strength upon realizing Ellen unknowingly lured the vampire to Wisborg.

The film is predominantly owned by Depp’s captivating portrayal, a performance that leaves a lasting impression. His scenes with Skarsgard are electrifying, filled with a tense mix of disgust and attraction, confusion and clarity, struggle and inevitable submission. Depp infuses Ellen’s delirium with a heart-wrenching depth, making the supernatural forces driving the vampire’s fixation more tangible. With a snap of a finger, Ellen can transform from fragile and helpless to malevolent, and her choreographed convulsions are nothing short of awe-inspiring.

Every era has its iconic film adaptation of Bram Stoker’s vampire tale, and in our time, director Eggers has gifted us with an outstanding, modern interpretation deeply rooted in the original storyline, which spans over a hundred years.

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2024-12-03 00:55