It stirred much anticipation when Robert Eggers announced that he would be creating an adaptation of the 1922 silent vampire film “Nosferatu.” Through his previous projects, “The Witch” (2015) and “The Lighthouse” (2019), Eggers has built a reputation for creating terrifying and atmospheric films with a focus on myth, folklore, and the occult. Simply put, Eggers and Nosferatu were a match made in heaven. The 2024 adaptation follows Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgård), or Nosferatu, a vampire who preys upon Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp), the wife of a real estate agent (Nicholas Hoult) and brings a plague to their small German town.
Eggers’ adaptation remains largely faithful to the original, while making the story far more palatable to modern audiences. The 1922 film relies heavily on drawn-out, lingering sequences to build atmosphere, but this often causes it to drag. Eggers trims much of the excess, resulting in a more dynamic film despite its longer runtime. He also significantly expands Ellen’s storyline. Eggers’ Ellen is a character with agency, depth and history, a far cry from her passive, one-note predecessor. With more development of her character, previously disjointed plot points come together neatly and with an impact they had not had before. Due to the changes, the new “Nosferatu” is considerably more tragic and compelling, bringing needed emotion to a classic tale.
What sticks out most about the film, though, is its visual style. Like “The Lighthouse,” “Nosferatu” pays close attention to the shadows. Despite largely taking place at night, there is never an issue with visibility, unlike in many recent movies. This is because the darkness in “Nosferatu” is meant to be seen. It is a character in and of itself, both concealing Orlok and eliciting a primal fear of the dark and unknown from which the film derives its true horror. For this reason, the film is often most effective when nothing is happening, when the tension builds from what might emerge rather than what is explicitly shown. It is not all dark, though; scenes are illuminated by beautifully serene moonlight, which reveals only what’s necessary. The parallel use of moonlight and shadow, with almost no color involved, create an enchanting atmosphere that both preserves the film’s gothic feel and subtly nods to its silent-era source material.
If the visual style draws you in, the performances seal the deal. Lily-Rose Depp is the highlight, tackling the high emotion and demanding physicality of her role with ease. She is the film’s emotional center and easily its most interesting character. Skarsgård is excellent, as well. He truly disappears into the role of Count Orlok; you could search for hours and find no trace of his face or voice in the character. Skarsgård has traditionally done his best work as practical-effects-monsters (see his performances in “It” and “It: Chapter Two”) and his role in “Nosferatu” is no different. He plays a vampire that is distinctly different from most Draculas. Whereas the average movie vampire tends to be something like a tall, classy mostly-human with slicked, widow-peaked hair and Victorian dress, Orlok is disgusting. He looks like a corpse. He is bloated in some places, emaciated in others, covered in boils and scars. He is death and disease incarnate, far closer to a vampire of European folklore rather than the seductive creature of Gothic literature. As Orlok, Skarsgård reminds us why vampires are feared.
The rest of the cast is nothing to scoff at, either. Willem Dafoe is an eccentric doctor and occultist nutjob, and Nicholas Hoult carries the film’s first act with incredibly believable terror and bewilderment. There is no campiness in what he’s doing; his fear comes off as 100 percent real rather than theatrical.
“Nosferatu” is everything a remake should be. It pays homage to its original and preserves its essence while taking the story in new directions. With his fourth feature film, Eggers proves that he is one of the most exciting directors of the generation, and “Nosferatu” suggests that his best work may be yet to come.