At the time, the film Nosferatu, a Symphony of Horror (Nosferatu — Eine Symphonie des Grauens) was a real breakthrough for cinema and a masterpiece for many years. The film established many now-familiar stereotypes about vampires and set the overall style for "bloodsucker horror" films. When Robert Eggers first announced his desire to remake the classic in 2015, many received the news ambiguously. However, no one could have guessed at the time that the work would stretch out for almost a decade. Nosferatu (2024) is the highest-grossing film in the director's career. Critics are eagerly praising the new release, so we couldn't ignore it. Was it worth it? Let's talk about it in more detail.
It's no secret that the Nosferatu (2024), like the original, is a loose adaptation of Bram Stoker's novel Dracula. However, there's an important nuance. The 1922 film turned out the way it did because the director failed to secure the rights for the adaptation. That's why several plot twists and character names were changed. Unfortunately, this didn't save the creators from lawsuits with Stoker's widow, but the fact remains. Robert Eggers clearly had a better chance of obtaining the rights to the novel, but he consciously chose a different path. His version is not a reimagining of the familiar story; it is a true remake of the 1922 film. This simple idea is very important to keep in mind, and soon you will understand why.
In the plot, a young girl named Ellen lives happily with her husband, Thomas, a realtor, in the town of Wisborg. Thomas's boss offers him a truly astounding contract — to deliver a deed to the noble Count Orlok from a village near Bohemia, who intends to buy a dilapidated property in the city. Both the count and the office are willing to pay generously for this, which would instantly solve all the young couple's financial problems. Ellen is very unhappy with this turn of events and senses trouble, but she agrees to stay with her husband's friends while he is away.
If you haven't heard the original Dracula story, the following events will be spoilers. Nevertheless, we will touch on some situations, as only through specific examples can we understand what director and screenwriter Eggers succeeded in and what he didn't.
Of course, Thomas will find out who Orlok is, and Orlok, in turn, will head to the city, where he will eventually perish. However, the details of the Nosferatu story from 2024 and 1922 differ significantly. Let's start with almost the very first opening scene. If in the original film Thomas was the main character, in the modern version, it is, of course, Ellen. The agenda did not bypass the new release, and there will be more of it further on. Ellen prays for God to send her a protector or an angel, but for some inexplicable reason, Orlok comes and either assaults or tortures the girl in her sleep (hello, Freddy Krueger). Why the prayer didn't work, how an average girl has the power to awaken vampires, and why the heroine is so important to the count are mysteries. We are immediately told that Ellen is special, but there's no attempt to explain how. In the 1922 film, there was, of course, nothing like this.
The character of Thomas hasn't undergone significant changes, but due to a number of innovations, the young man seems significantly dumber than his original prototype. For example, closer to the end of the journey, Thomas stumbles upon an inn. He is instantly surrounded by locals who, for some reason, look very much like gypsies. In the original, these were just peasants of a Slavic appearance. For no apparent reason, the same gypsies don't want to give Thomas lodging, but when they finally agree, they go to the nearest cemetery that night and happily stab a random vampire with an iron rod. Who is this vampire? Why is he lying in a cemetery near the inn? Why go there with a naked girl on a horse? And why did the vampire do nothing at night? There will be no answers.
In the morning, all the gypsies suddenly disappear, taking Thomas's horse with them, as expected. The guy is forced to reach the castle alone. In the original, there was nothing like this, and the vampire was a unique entity. The fact that Thomas not only knew but even saw how to fight the creatures properly, yet ignores their existence, is one of the most serious contradictions of the new version, turning the former main character into a laughingstock. The gypsies could have warned him too.
The second problem is the deed itself. In the original version, the documents are written in a funny occult language, reminiscent of the writing style of children under 5 years old. In the modern version, the language is also unrecognizable, but why does Thomas sign anything at all? Perhaps in 1922, this was sacrificed for the sake of dynamics, but the same trick doesn't work today. Thomas is a realtor, he constantly deals with documents, and he should have a copy of the contract in a comprehensible language. How can someone in a quasi-legal profession be deceived in such a straightforward way?
Later, it turns out that with his signature, Thomas somehow promised Ellen to Orlok. Again, how exactly? When the count is already in the city trying to turn Ellen against Thomas, he claims that the young husband sold his wife for a bag of gold, but the audience knows for sure that this wasn't the case. Moreover, the count needs Ellen's conscious and voluntary consent to confirm the deal. So was it not necessary in Thomas's case? The funniest part is that the heroine initially doesn't believe the vampire, but for some reason changes her mind after a couple of minutes and scolds Thomas for his action.
By the way, the count first sees the girl in the original accidentally on a portrait medallion of Thomas. They didn't have any magical meetings in dreams. In the new version, Orlok has known Ellen for a long time, so the medallion scene seems unnecessary.
It's awkward to even mention that the characters, upon learning the nature of the vampire, go to kill him at night. However, Eggers added a little of his own. If in the original Ellen had bouts of sleepwalking and panic from Orlok's illusions, now it's true possession. How and why the vampire turned into a demon is unclear. Ellen is so violently affected, it's like watching The Exorcist. It looks genuinely creepy, but the purpose of these scenes is another question. The count doesn't subjugate anyone else like this, and Ellen doesn't lose her mind or freedom of will.
The funniest innovation is the bites. If before Orlok's funny teeth left marks in the center of the neck, now, for some reason, they are on the chest. You can't help but wonder if the bloodsucker broke his fangs on the rib cage.
The director also reworked the ending. Now it's darker and revolves around Ellen's exceptional self-sacrifice. Why this extra act of feminism is there is another unanswered question.
To summarize, I'd like to return to where we started the conversation about the film. The new version is not an attempt to make Nosferatu a thoughtful adaptation of Dracula. It's a replica of the ancient film with all its merits and somewhat silly flaws for the modern viewer, which Eggers painstakingly transferred to the screen once again. At the same time, there are plenty of silly innovations.
The story could have been reworked to present the ancient vampire as a serious threat, but the director remained true to his signature style. It's just a shame that the chosen material doesn't quite fit this approach. A while ago, we reviewed The Northman — Eggers' reinterpretation of a Shakespearean play. The film didn't appeal to many back then, but it was underrated. The Northman feels like a much more successful experiment in every aspect compared to Nosferatu. However, the review would be incomplete without highlighting the film's positives.
Let's start with the visuals. Eggers knows how to shoot, so the new release is a visual delight from the first to the last frame. The bluish color grading and overall gothic gloominess are very appealing, instantly setting the right mood. Everything here feels unwelcoming, tense, and cold, as if you're standing in a windy field. The overall design is also successful. Costumes and visual solutions deserve a solid five-plus.
The cast is also impressive. The lead role is played by Lily-Rose Depp. Finally, Captain Jack Sparrow's daughter has shown that she inherited her father's talent. She acts well (except when she's overacting during certain scenes) and looks completely different from her real self. Joining her is Nicholas Hoult — a very underrated actor, in our opinion, who constantly strives to break into the big leagues but hasn't quite succeeded yet. In the film, he portrays Thomas well, but due to several script liberties, he seems more irritating and foolish than he should be. The director consciously pushes his character aside in the second half of the film to focus on Ellen. The occultist doctor is played by Willem Dafoe — someone who's always a pleasure to see in any role.
You might find it strange how the characters behave. Instead of naturalness, we get theatricality. Usually, in such cases, people say the actors are overacting, but here it's a deliberate choice. All the characters skillfully balance on the edge. It's not quite a play, but something very close to it. This approach seems to add an unnaturalness to the overall atmosphere of anxiety. The heroes are surrounded by mad, strange, and frenzied people, and the main characters themselves become akin to them.
However, there's a downside here too. None of the characters are developed in any depth. We know nothing about how Ellen lived before marriage or why she decided to seek protection from God. The nature of Thomas, his friend, or the doctor remains a mystery. Even how the director of the real estate office became Orlok's servant is left unexplained. This was forgivable in 1922, but now it's just poor scriptwriting.
The main star, without a doubt, is Bill Skarsgard as Orlok. And this is where we need to pause. Even before the premiere, rumors were circulating that the actor had prepared something special for the audience, rarely leaving his dressing room and generally instilling fear in everyone present. The reality is somewhat more mundane. The image of Orlok has been significantly reworked. He's no longer a frail old man in a funny hat, but a real Cossack — complete with a topknot and impressive mustache.
The problem is that you can only appreciate this bombastic makeup in a few frames online. In the film itself, there are only a couple of scenes where Orlok is somewhat visible. Apart from the mustache, there's not much else to see. This was done for added mystery, but it only works at the beginning. Towards the end, you start to lose patience and fidget nervously — when will they finally show the vampire? But he remains elusive. This completely erodes any sense of fear. Don't believe the reviews calling the film the best horror of 2024 — in two hours, there's not a single genuinely frightening scene, and when the vampire tries to go boo, he's always in shadows or out of focus.
What definitely deserves praise is Skarsgard's voice. The actor truly transformed it beyond recognition. However, you can only appreciate this if you're watching with subtitles. His creaky voice with a pronounced Eastern European accent makes you doubt that this is the former Pennywise. Fantastically cool. It's a pity that's the only memorable thing about the count.
***
We had high hopes for Nosferatu, but Robert Eggers once again delivered a very strange (in a negative way) project. The new release is a remake of the 1922 film, no less and, unfortunately, no more. Many silly script decisions kill everything good that the film does have. It's a pity, the potential was enormous.