31 Dec REVIEW – ‘Nosferatu’ is a beautiful, grotesque, and chilling cinematic nightmare
Let’s be honest; horror reimaginings rarely succeed. For every brilliant example like Dawn of the Dead, The Ring or It, you have genuine train wrecks like A Nightmare on Elm Street, Psycho, and The Wolfman. Thankfully, the man to take on delivering a new vision of F.W. Murnau’s iconic 1922 silent film, Nosferatu is Robert Eggers; a filmmaker known for his audacious exploration of the darker corners of human experience.
The result is a beautiful, grotesque, and chilling cinematic nightmare that descends into terror and obsession. Eggers’ signature blend of meticulous world-building, atmospheric dread, and psychological tension is front and centre. While the film’s labyrinthine pacing and occasionally excessive style may alienate viewers seeking more traditional horror fare, Nosferatu is undeniably a visually arresting, thought-provoking, and hypnotic experience— one that will haunt and linger long after the credits roll.
Nosferatu revolves around the tragic story of Ellen Hutter (Lily-Rose Depp), a woman cursed by an obsessive vampire, Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgård), whose fixation on her has haunted her life for years. Promised to him in a past life, Ellen is now married to Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult), unaware of the dark history that binds her to Orlok.
When Thomas is sent to Transylvania to close a real estate deal with the reclusive Count, he unknowingly stirs the vampire’s dormant obsession. Upon discovering Ellen’s identity, Orlok’s desire to reunite with her, as well as his thirst for blood, becomes all-consuming. Trapped in Orlok’s gothic castle, Thomas eventually escapes, but it’s clear that the vampire has followed, bringing death and pestilence in his wake.
What follows is a twisting tale of obsession, seduction, and death, where the lines between monster and victim blur. Eggers’ adaptation brings the gothic horror into a tactile, almost dreamlike realm, offering a sense of decay and ruin that permeates every scene. The world is as sinister and cold as Orlok himself—an unnerving reflection of the mind’s dark recesses.
Skarsgård’s portrayal of Orlok is nothing short of mesmerising. His skeletal, elongated features, combined with his cold, otherworldly presence, render him an unnerving figure who feels entirely out of place in the human world. His performance isn’t just about eliciting fear; it’s a complex portrayal of a creature driven by insatiable, almost tragic desire.
Shrowded by some of the best prosthetics work of the year, Skarsgård’s physicality is key—every movement, every glance is calculated and deliberate, imbued with a deep yearning that transcends the typical vampire tropes. His Orlok is a monstrous figure, but one that is strangely pitiful in his own warped, obsessive way. It’s a performance that lingers, long after the character exits the frame.
However, while Skarsgård’s presence as Orlok is captivating, it’s Depp’s performance as Ellen that truly anchors the emotional core of the film. Her portrayal of Ellen is both fragile and strong, a woman caught in the web of Orlok’s dark obsession, yet also the only character in the narrative who seems to have any genuine agency.
Depp brings an ethereal quality to her character, embodying the archetype of the doomed woman without ever feeling like a mere victim. It’s a delicate performance, filled with quiet intensity, and she holds her own against Skarsgård’s towering presence. The chemistry between the two is palpable, creating an almost hypnotic pull that drives the story forward.
The film’s visual style is perhaps its most defining feature, and Eggers’ direction ensures that every shot is dripping with atmosphere. The use of light and shadow creates a sense of dread that is at once haunting and alluring. The camera lingers on details—decaying architecture, dimly lit corridors, and the unsettling gaze of Skarsgård’s Orlok—as if the world itself is a living entity that is slowly consuming the characters within it.
Cinematographer Jarin Blaschke, who has worked on all Eggers’ films, masterfully crafts a sense of claustrophobia and isolation, using the landscape as an extension of the characters’ psychological states. Every frame feels deliberate, like a painting, yet with an eerie, almost tactile quality that pulls the viewer in. It’s truly some of the most sumptuous, intoxicating cinematography you’ll ever see.
In addition to Blaschke’s photography, Craig Lathrop‘s production and Linda Muir‘s costume designs create a world that is equally gorgeous and monstrous. The decaying, nearly gothic sets speak volumes about the eroding moral fabric of the characters. The use of muted, earth-toned colours reinforces the feeling of decay and inevitable doom. There’s a lived-in quality to the world Eggers constructs, one that feels like it’s teetering on the edge of collapse. It’s a world full of rot and ruin, reflecting the inner turmoil of the characters and the power dynamics at play.
Robin Carolan’s stunning score only further enhances the film’s unnerving tone. Carolan’s compositions are minimalist, building on discordant notes and eerie soundscapes that help to elevate the sense of dread permeating the film. The music often feels like another character, amplifying the psychological tension and helping to deepen the emotional resonance of key moments. It’s an essential part of the film’s atmosphere, and Carolan’s work here complements the visual elements beautifully.
Nosferatu excels in creating an unnervingly oppressive atmosphere with its deliberate slow pace enhancing the sense of dread. Much like Eggers’ previous work, some may find it feeling suffocating, even tedious, at times. Certain stretches of the film drag on for longer than necessary, and there’s a sense that Eggers is so caught up in the world-building that he occasionally loses track of narrative momentum.
While the visual intricacies and symbolic flourishes are fascinating, they sometimes overshadow the story, making it difficult to engage with the characters on an emotional level. Eggers is occasionally less interested in advancing a coherent narrative and more about immersing the viewer in a nightmarish, feverish vision of lust and death. The dreamlike quality of the film occasionally makes it difficult to discern what is real and what is imagined. For me, this is what horror is all about, but others might find it frustrating.
Eggers draws heavily from his previous films, especially The Witch and The Lighthouse, in the way he uses folklore, psychological horror, and dark, oppressive atmospheres. While this isn’t necessarily a criticism—Eggers’ mastery in creating discomfort is on full display—it does feel somewhat repetitive, as if he’s treading familiar ground. The thematic concerns of obsession and desire echo strongly in his previous works, but he executed such explorations with deft precision.
Minor quibbles aside, Nosferatu is a masterful exercise in atmospheric horror that showcases Eggers’ distinctive directorial vision. The film’s haunting visuals, combined with Skarsgård and Depp’s powerful performances, create an unforgettable experience that’s not easy to shake. It’s one of the most visually striking horror films in recent memory. It’s a triumph of mood and style and one of the rare examples of how to recreate an iconic tale that pays tribute, yet still strikes its own terrifying chord.
Distributor: Universal Pictures
Cast: Bill Skarsgård, Nicholas Hoult, Lily-Rose Depp, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Emma Corrin, Willem Dafoe, Ralph Ineson, Simon McBurney
Director: Robert Eggers
Producers: Jeff Robinov, John Graham, Chris Columbus, Eleanor Columbus, Robert Eggers
Screenplay: Robert Eggers
Cinematography: Jarin Blaschke
Production Design: Craig Lathrop
Costume Design: Linda Muir
Editor: Louise Ford
Music: Robin Carolan
Running Time: 132 minutes
Release Date: 1st January 2025 (Australia)