Robert Eggers’ adaptation of Nosferatu is a refreshing reimagining of a traditional tale told time and time again. Originally inspired heavily by Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Nosferatu is a staple of the gothic-vampire genre.
Now, as the third cinematic rendition of Nosferatu, the execution of the narrative and cinematography is captivating. As a parallel to Dracula, the film’s opening sequence follows the male protagonist’s venture toward the Count’s castle. Much like my experience with Stoker’s novel, this was perhaps my favourite sequence of the film before the perspective shifts to focus on multiple characters. Tom’s journey through snowy landscapes and over winding cliffs leads to his fateful meeting with the Count and his torment within his walls. I was completely immersed in these moments, despite having consumed this sequence many times before across multiple adaptations and formats. Following this section, the film shifts from strictly adhering to the classic vampire conventions, such as the isolated castle, to exploring the social disequilibrium of the characters. Focusing on Lily-Rose Depp’s portrayal of Ellen Hutter, the subject of Count Orlok’s wrath, possession, and desire. By doing so, offering an appreciated perspective on the personal struggles of those affected by Nosferatu. The very first scene especially sets this tone for the rest of the film, when Ellen, as a result of her loneliness, calls out for companionship from “any celestial form”. This moment serves as a symbolic testament to the narrative’s overarching themes: the willingness to sacrifice and the desperation of humanity, both of which manifest in the plague-like horror of Orlok—Nosferatu.
The acting across the cast is phenomenal and wholly convincing, particularly in the film’s grotesque and striking moments. Eggers’ direction and framing elevate these scenes—such as the eerie carriage ride through the woods and the chilling final confrontation between Ellen and Orlok—into something disturbingly and disgustingly brilliant. The film pushes boundaries in ways so outlandish and inhuman that at times I found myself questioning whether I even enjoyed what I was watching. Yet, the lasting impact of the plot and performances kept my mind returning to the film for days after. Ultimately solidifying my opinion that it is a great film, clouded only at first by the unnaturalness of what I was consuming. Which in its own way, succeeds its motivations as a horror film.
Furthermore, the symbolism and foreshadowing throughout make Nosferatu a feast for cinephiles. In one instance, for example, the childhood innocence of characters playing and imagining horrors mirrors their tragic fate. Another moment sees Ellen seemingly possessed in a fit, lying on the shore as she climaxes. This could be an intentional nod to mythology, specifically The Odyssey, where Penelope calls out to the sea for her missing husband as he voyages the Aegean. On a deeper analytical level, folklore portrays women’s intimacy with the sea as a sign of primal connection and feminine energy, an erotic surrender to something greater than themselves. This parallels Ellen’s relationship with Orlok; her actions in this moment serve as a complete surrender to him. Later in the film, she is even described as the characters’ “salvation”.
Overall, I am glad to add Nosferatu to the top of my 2025 watched list. It is a strong start to the year, with specific shots and sequences offering some of the best cinematography and acting I have seen in years. I implore you to give it a go if you do not shy away from the weird and unsettling. Just give it time before making any rash judgements. You may, like me, find it growing on you, lingering in your mind like the rats that plague its haunting second half.
Printed rating: ★★★★