By TJ REID for the Keizertimes
The story behind 1922’s Nosferatu is a fascinating one: as a clear rip-off of Dracula the film lost a lawsuit against Bram Stoker’s estate back in the day and was almost wiped from existence as a result, but luckily some copies survived and it is now considered a cinematic classic in its own right.
Like Count Orlok the film has proven hard to kill, with the original’s unlikely survival, a remake in 1979, and a remake in late 2024. This last one had a lot to live up to (and die down to?), but thanks to some stunning cinematography, exceptional performances, and a hauntingly beautiful score it is every bit as artistic and beautiful as its previous incarnations.
Vampires have always inexorably been linked with sexual metaphor, and 2024’s Nosferatu makes this much clearer than its predecessors by juxtaposing the blatantly sensual with the very, very gross. It can be an uncomfortable film in that way, but it never loses the beauty that results from some truly impressive filmmaking.
The original was, of course, in black and white, and for some reason I expected this one to be as well. The reason for this became clear pretty quickly—there are moments where the 2024 version pays clever tribute to its predecessor by staging certain scenes entirely by moonlight, sapping the surroundings of warmth and giving the illusion of black and white filmmaking. Such interesting tricks give the film a haunting Gothic quality that dominates even when color manages to leech in.
The performances in Nosferatuare not terribly subtle but they work. Bill Skarsgard plays the titular creature sublimely, and although it sometimes is a bit hard to understand what he is saying he nails the role just as much as he did Pennywise in the most recent It adaptation. The real star of the show is Lily-Rose Depp as the conflicted and haunted Ellen, a young newlywed tortured by tantalizing visions of Count Orlok. The broad nature of the acting, instead of being hammy, adds to Nosferatu’s feeling of epic tragedy.
The original film is sometimes given the subtitle A Symphony of Horror, and for this reason I paid particularly close attention to the music in the 2024 remake. The score by Robin Carolan is another impressive cog in the well-oiled gothic machine that is Nosferatu, never failing to enhance the horror, drama, and tragedy whenever it is called upon to do so. It is thrilling when all the pieces of a film come together so effortlessly, and Nosferatu is one beautiful puzzle.
The movie does feel a bit over-long in the final act, as if the characters and filmmakers sensed the end approaching and were determined to do everything in their power to procrastinate and prolong the inevitable conclusion to their pretty little gothic world, but this is a small complaint for a film that is destined to become a classic. It looks like, despite all odds, this old vampire has some life left in it yet.
Nosferatu is now playing in theaters.