Director: Robert Eggers
Writer: Robert Eggers
Stars: Bill Skarsgård, Nicholas Hoult, Lily-Rose Depp, Willem Dafoe
Synopsis: A gothic tale of obsession between a haunted young woman and the terrifying vampire infatuated with her, causing untold horror in its wake.
Passion projects.
Depending on how you feel about a creator, this can be the highest of compliments or the lowest of insults. You may either be happy that they have been given the leeway to finally accomplish this singular focus or feel that this is pretension at its worst levels. Not everyone gets those opportunities. Are they earned or are they given? A valid question and concern. But these passion projects have the ability to give us phenomenal art. By his own admission, Robert Eggers has wanted to create a Dracula (or adjacent) movie for the last ten years. And really, for most of his life, this has clearly been gestating. And who can blame him? Vampire movies have been a stalwart, with major differences in quality, for most of the history of the moving picture. But many fans of the original novel, yours truly included, have been forced to be content with mostly good or close enough versions. But no longer! No, Nosferatu is not a point-by-point adaptation of Bram Stoker’s classic. Nor is it a complete remake of Murnau’s Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror. It is something different. Something better. Nosferatu is a reason to celebrate for fans of gothic horror, and of film in general.
Nosferatu is introduced by the eager, yearning, frightened face of Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) as she cries out for help and connection. It may not surprise the audience, but she is greeted, not by a guardian angel as she hopes, but something much darker and more horrifying. This opening sequence, some of which was shown in trailers, wastes no time showing us exactly the type of film we are in for. It is a frenzied, terrifying, arousing, meticulously crafted journey into the darkest parts of ourselves. Depp gives a stunner of a performance, both verbally and physically. As we are introduced to her well-meaning husband, Thomas (Nicholas Hoult), there is an immediate understanding that he is both a source of safety and frustration. As a woman in the 1800s who suffers from epilepsy and melancholy, she is repeatedly told that she should talk less in general and speak of her maladies, never.
As mentioned, the film follows several plot points from the original novel, including her husband traveling to a far away country to have a mysterious individual sign papers to own a home. In this version, it leads us to Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgård). These introductory sequences are one of the many ways that this Nosferatu sets itself apart from anything you have seen previously. As Thomas journeys into a strange land and an even stranger castle, the blue hued visuals and anxiety-inducing score from Robin Carolan sets the scene perfectly. When we finally arrive inside the castle, everything feels unsure and dangerous.
An unrecognizable Skarsgård, with the help of the meticulous prosthetic work from David White, shows us a vampire, as it is meant to be seen. Human-like, but otherworldly. Gargantuan in size. A lack of suave, convincing seduction. He is aware of his power and has no qualms about forcing others to do his bidding. Skarsgård’s vocal choice will haunt your dreams. Gone are the mildly charming, borderline comical versions of a Transylvanian accent. This, in the best of ways, is foreign, frightening, and unnerving.
Eggers makes the daring choice to keep him in shadow for longer than is comfortable. Audiences may find themselves leaning forward to get a glimpse of what should stay hidden forever. Even as the camera, with the help of cinematographer, Jarin Blaschke, moves in painfully close, there is a soft focus that won’t allow us into the dark mysteries of Count Orlok. And, looking back, it makes a perfect kind of sense. His secrets are not for Thomas. His connection is only with Ellen. Everyone and everything, other than her, are merely obstacles in the path to what must occur.
Eggers’ script manages a difficult balance. As in many versions of this kind of story, the plot mechanics are divided between the journey into darkness by her husband and Ellen’s own prospects of doom as she internally panics, left alone with her sadness and anxiety. As the film moves back to her, there are numerous visual motifs that Eggers employs without being painfully obvious. Ellen is surrounded by death, and we come to understand that she may have courted it through no real fault of her own. As she walks with her friend Anna (Emma Corrin) and her husband, Friedrich (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), along a beach, there is still no peace or life. On the hillsides, we see crosses, marking graves. No mention is made of it, but it follows her. She consistently wears flowers across the top of her head, even after stating earlier that cut flowers are merely dead flowers, no matter how aesthetically pleasing.
Further, Eggers focuses on desire, and how it is represented on screen. When appearing with Thomas, Ellen’s hair is tied back, looking almost painfully tight in a bun, intricately designed. When she is reaching out for Count Orlok, even in thought, her hair is loose, free, unbound. Additionally, when Ellen suffers from fits and seizures, clearly representing her sexuality and said desire, men seek to control her. She is drugged, tied, bound, forced into corsetry. The bonds of polite society stop her from her potential. It should be revisited here that, in a movie filled with excellence, Depp is the standout. This is a rarity in a supernatural film, but her commitment to this extremely difficult role should be studied and lauded. But it all fits in with the work of many others. This is all accomplished through set design, costume, and performance. The alchemy of filmmaking is fully on display. The craft of dozens of artisans combine to create something you have never seen on film before, in quite this way.
As the film slowly ramps up, it expertly provides moments of terror that, at first, cut away through masterful editing by Louise Ford, leaving us wondering what is real and what is melancholic fantasy. But as Count Orlok gets closer to his goals, a realization sets in that horrific sacrifices must be made. In the final act, there will be no cutting away. There is no shutting our eyes to the hideous nature of both the natural and supernatural. There is no flinching. The darkness will be faced. The passion will come to fruition. There will be an end.
Nosferatu is a masterful piece of work, not just from Robert Eggers, but from an entire team of artists. Everything from direction to performance to design is in perfect balance throughout the runtime. It is one of very few movies this year, or any other year for that matter, that feels utterly complete. There is no moment wasted and, more importantly, nothing missing from one of the most disturbing films we are lucky enough to experience. As with many of the films of Robert Eggers, Nosferatu will likely reward many rewatches. Nosferatu is not only a work of passion from him, but his best work thus far. He will be hard pressed to exceed what he, and many others, have created here.
