Nosferatu (2024) Review

Let me start by creating a timeline of the events that unfolded for me when it comes to my experience with Nosferatu. And I say Nosferatu, not Nosferatu. I will clarify in a moment.

A month ago, in anticipation of the new Robert Eggers' Nosferatu (2024), I went on YouTube to watch the original 1922 silent film of the same name. I'd heard of it, as almost every film-inspired individual had, but I had always passed over it, not so much because of the age or the silence, but because I have a weak-ass stomach, and I don't handle horror all that well overall. That is why horror can be so fun to critique... But I digress.

Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror (1922) was directed by F.W. Murnau and is a direct rip-off, copy, plagiarization, what-have-you of Bram Stroker's Dracula, with names switched around and ultimately, probably the second most notable name in vampire history, if I've got my general knowledge right. And for a "rip-off", it's incredibly well-made. The silence of the characters is drowned out by the soundtrack; horns and strings vibrating through the scenery to illuminate the lack of dialogue. It's quickly paced, under 90 minutes, and is sufficiently creepy in the portrayal of Count Orlok.

And then, over a hundred years later, there came another. This is why Nosferatu is its own thing; then there are numerous adaptions and rip-offs of different flairs, but Eggers' is the first true return to the original.

As the source material for Eggers' endeavor, I, as was many, was very excited to see how he would adapt it. However, as we edged closer to release, my nerves and aforementioned weak stomach grew more uneasy. The trailer alone made me queasy. The lack of appearance from the Count himself and the fact he was being played by the ever-horrifying Bill Skarsgard didn't help either.

My mother and I made plans to go see it in theaters a week or so after I viewed the 1922 silent film. Unfortunately, those plans fell through. Fortunately, both my mother and I were spared the uncomfortable experience together.

Becasue Good Lord, is this film horny. And not in a fun way like Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut or even Nichol's The Graduate. This is just plain disturbing. If you're at all familiar with the original, the story is relatively simple: a realtor married to the love of his life is sent to a mysteriously reclusive count's castle to make a sale. This count, the vampire Orlok, becomes infatuated with the man's wife from a picture he sees during the sale. Where Eggers' takes his own creative meandering is very much centered around the sexual tension between the aforementioned vampire and the wife, Ellen. Without saying too much, some of the most uncomfortable moments in the film center around this dynamic.

Where the film's received some unfair backlash online, by might I argue the "TikTok-brainers", is that it's too slow, too boring, and not scary enough. These individuals have either been completely desensitized to tension, require blood and gore every scene, or both, and I think it's both. The film follows a very traditional and classical pacing rather than kneeling to the mainstream tropes of the genre. This is a large part of what I really appreciated about the film. Personally, especially not being a horror fan in the traditional sense, could get behind the more aesthetic and cinematic epicness of the approach. I think people may have been disconnected from Robert Eggers as a filmmaker as well, as his work does tend to edge towards the "odd" and Lynchian side of cinema.

A part of this modern remaster that I didn't expect was the comic relief. And was that a welcome surprise. Between Nicholas Hoult's embracing of the awkward hero and Willem Dafoe's crazed witch-doctor-type, I often could feel the tension being cut, specifically as the final moments approach. Having the weak stomach I do, I was greatly relieved at these moments.

In my opinion, Eggers knocked this out of the park. The hesitation from the younger generations to echo this sentiment has to do with his choice of pacing and, ultimately, really his more artistic approach to telling a story. Not that there's anything necessarily wrong with the jump scare and gore-heavy films; I get their appeal, but that's not what Eggers was aiming to do here. His appeal comes from one of classical paintings, cultivating a specific aesthetic that unfolds with the story itself while almost becoming a character too.

Will I watch this again anytime soon? Hell no. But the more I push myself to watch film and media outside of my comfort zone, the more I'll be able to appreciate the art of cinema as a whole. Stopping the cherry picking this year. I'll keep on it.