A Gothic Christmas: Why Nosferatu's Dark Perfection Left Me Speechless - film review

Reviewing Robert Eggers’ fourth feature, ‘Nosferatu’

Dec 26, 2024

Nosferatu (2024) was one of those films that I’d heard about throughout the year and even seen the trailers of, but didn’t really linger on for too long. I was so distracted by the rollercoaster of film releases this year that by the time December came around, I had only just begun paying my full attention to the movie. Only having seen one of his works before, The Lighthouse, I was excited to see what Eggers’ take would be on this classic vampire story and how far he was willing to go with his choices. Although, as I walked out of the theatre, there was nothing expected or predictable about the stroke of brilliance that was Nosferatu.

As an actor myself, I approach on-screen performances with a much more empathetic, but perceptive eye. Lily-Rose Depp played a show stopping Ellen Hutter. She acted in a way that gave her character so much dimension. She did something that I struggle with myself: She played so many emotions within her character. It wasn’t ever Lily-Rose who was sad or angry or terrified, it was all Ellen. She did what many actors fail to do and became so shamelessly lost and consumed in the character, resulting in a breathtaking spectacle. Nicholas Hoult as Thomas really took me back. In particular, the scene in which he is introduced to Orlok in his estate. There was such a quiet and underlying terror in the atmosphere and Nicholas portrayed it flawlessly. The tears in his eyes said enough, even when his dialogue was telling a different story. There were so many directions that he could’ve gone with his character and he took an approach that entailed so much development and evolution. One of the selling points of this film, for me, was Willem Dafoe. He simply never misses a role and in this film it was no different. However, I was blissfully shocked at how well the rest of his cast kept up with him. Willem has a tendency to outshine his casts and to perform circles around them, but every single actor in this cast was leveled with their striking performances. I did appreciate his character being added to the story and the small comedic relief that he provided. But the actor who surprised me most of all, as I sat in the theatre with my jaw dropped, was Aaron Taylor-Johnson. In the beginning, I realized that he was bringing something unique to the film (which is already an achievement, to stand out with such a cast), but it wasn’t until his last scenes that he really blew me away. The look that he gave to nothing in particular as the graves of his family passed him by was so telling that the scene could’ve ended there and I would’ve understood his character completely. The numbness and the blind blaming in an almost strained and muted shout toward the Hutter’s was so gut wrenching. One of my few critiques is the fact that that scene didn’t linger on him just a little longer. In his very last scene, even though he wasn’t particularly a character to be fond of, he phenomenally pulled such a deep empathy out of me that I don’t think was intended to be felt when the scene was written. With such a stacked cast, it was foolish of me to expect anything less than the greatness and the gravitational pull that these actors had on the audience.

The trailer told me enough as far as production design and color grading went. But there were times in this film where I genuinely was in disbelief as to how beautiful the scene in front of me was. It’s so necessary to this story for the atmosphere to do it justice and, of course, Eggers took that into consideration. Everything outside of the actors did exactly what it’s meant to do in emphasizing the journeys at hand. Specifically, the scenes that took place in the moonlight (I know, that’s most of the film). It was so stunningly captivating in a way that set the tone for and supported the story so fittingly. There was a time when Thomas was walking through a forest and a pair of horses were charging toward him; The sound design and coloring was so breathtaking, almost magical, that I felt like I myself was being charged at by these horses. There were many moments like that: When I forgot I was watching a film but felt like I was living it, and my body would react accordingly. There were times where the audience that I was sharing these moments with would outwardly exclaim or unintentionally gasp or yelp or close their eyes at the scene ahead of them. To acquire and maintain an audience’s attention and to call to so many of their senses through one piece of work is not only doing a filmmakers job, but exceeding any reasonable standard ever set for one. The construction of this film was eternally suspenseful. Honestly, there were moments where I had to remind myself to take a deep breath because the film was doing its job of keeping me on edge for those two hours but never once relied on jump scares to move the plot along. All of the jump scares could’ve been removed from the film and I still would’ve experienced that instinctive reaction. Not only did the coloring, sound, and production design further accent this story, but the wardrobe was impressive as well. The film's elements worked in symphony to create a work of art that was nothing less than deliciously wicked.

There are specific choices that Robert Eggers made not only in contrast to the ones made in Nosferatu (1922), but within his own right, that I want to highlight, analyze, and appreciate how they contributed to making this film great individually. I can’t accurately gauge the length of this slice of the film, as everything feels longer in a theatre, but there was a certain detail that stood out to me in the time that Thomas left the inn to the moment he first speaks to Orlok. In these (estimated) 3-5 minutes, there was no dialogue. Not a word was spoken nor another character in sight. Only Thomas, the snow, and silence. This stood out to me because not only is it a risky and confident assumption that you can silently hold a viewer's attention for that long, but also the brilliant way Eggers chose to break the silence. Thomas knocks on the estate door and once he enters, the doors shut with such a force that it jolted my mind awake. I hadn’t even noticed that there had been no words spoken until that door shattered the tranquility. I did see this movie in RPX, known for its enhanced sound, but even then, the effect rumbled the seats that we sat in; I could feel that single door slam in my chest moments after it happened. It’s a small detail, but goes to show how little tweaks and choices in one’s filmmaking can change the film for an audience. Secondly, I found Eggers' choice to make Ellen the original inviter of Orlok unexpected, but interesting. Ellen was so lonely that she called out to the darkness for companionship, inadvertently inviting Orlok into her mind. A stark contrast to the 1922 film where Orlok is simply an unprovoked predator. Eggers’ Ellen welcomes his company but then attempts to close the door, and to an already obsessed and predatory Orlok, he sees it as absolute denial and wrongdoing. In regards to Orlok, the slow and gradual reveal of his face was so deliberately and perfectly planned. From the uncovering of his lengthy fingers, to the close ups on only his face, to the dark eye-squinty shots of his complete frame, the filmmakers created an unsure and mysterious fog around him. His physical design was done so well and I’m glad that they got to show it in its entirety at the very end, but I also really enjoyed the design of his voice. It wasn’t quite the ridiculous demon voice that every horror film seems to reuse, but there was clearly a human voice somewhere intertwined with his wretched voice of a decaying corpse. The entire reveal of Orlok and the transition and development that he, or rather the idea and effects of him, went through was so eerie. Nosferatu wasn’t quite a legend, but something that people around him knew about and were wary of. He was a hushed secret that loomed and lingered in the air of the towns surrounding him which is seen in the Nun’s suggestions to Thomas. My favorite part of his character’s journey was the effect he had on the ship. As he traveled, sickness and death followed. “I am an appetite, nothing more,” was such a clever and insightful line that told us exactly why this “plague” arrived with him. He did as all reanimated corpses do in film, and consumed. Whether it be a zombie, vampire, or other monster, they eat everything that is around them. Just in Orlok’s case, he didn’t physically have to bite these people in order to consume all that they were and take their very lives due to his unrelenting hunger and greed. It wasn’t the rats that caused suffering and destruction, it was Orlok. There were so many physical embodiments of the disease that he was that aligned with the mental torture that he put people through in their dreams. “He is coming,” fit so well into the film because although, yes, Ellen was tethered to him and could feel his nearing presence, it wasn’t just his physical being that she was so terrified of arriving. With him, whether Ellen knew it or not, he was bringing peril and fear. Orlok was the plague and as he hit the land of Wisborg, he transformed into this Nosferatu that Professor Albin Von Franz spoke of.

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