Nosferatu

by Philip Price

Photo: Focus Features

Director: Robert Eggers
Starring: Lily-Rose Depp, Nicholas Hoult & Bill Skarsgård
Rated: R (bloody violent content, nudity & some sexual content) 
Runtime: 2 hours & 12 minutes

 
Throughout Robert Eggers' interpretation of the Dracula mythos, we hear the word "providence" uttered multiple times, most frequently by Simon McBurney’s servant figure Knock (I wonder if he and Nicholas Hoult consulted with one another). Naturally, one would assume the context of such comments would be regarding the protective care of God in a film about a plague-inducing demon, but providence can also be defined as timely preparation for future eventualities. This latter meaning is, in fact, the outline for what composes much of 2024’s “Nosferatu.” As much of an impression as Bill Skarsgård’s titular character makes throughout the film, it is he who is largely orchestrating said timely preparations (which are sometimes a little too timely), whereas it is Lily-Rose Depp’s Ellen who is the focal point of both the vampire and Eggers’ fascinations. The future eventualities of this particular situation are the unlocking of this young woman’s shame (or sin, as she sees it) to find salvation – whether that be her own, the monster’s or mankind’s is up to the viewer. Initially, Ellen believes she has found such salvation in Thomas Hutter (the aforementioned Hoult), a young man whom she’s recently wed, eager to start a life with and with whom she believes she can remedy her darkness. We learn, of course, that when Count Orlok, Nosferatu, the vampyr, is stirred from his grave by the afflictions of others, he cannot be sated – satisfied - without fully consuming them, which, ironically, feels more like an absolute than the possibility promised by “providence.”

There is undoubtedly an unlimited number of allegorical meanings one could graph onto Ellen’s function, but most interesting about Eggers's film is the idea that this central character embodies the facade of the thing she believes she should be yet is seemingly afraid to embrace her instinctual tendencies while Eggers ensures the film itself is the inverse of as much; following his innate, natural inclinations so far past their conclusions that what we’re delivered is not necessarily what we expect from Dracula (outside of maybe the costumes and language), but moreover it authentically amps up and delivers upon the startling terror of what made (and makes) this long-looming figure of the genre so horrifying over a century after his creation. He, Nosferatu, is more than just the presence of a monster but the enigma that fills us with conflict and dread.

"Come to me. A guardian angel. A spirit of comfort...Anything." 

Ellen opens the film begging for something to save her, but all she hears in return are the soft, hissing breaths of the one she fears. This voice tells her she is not for the living, that she is not for humankind, yet even as Ellen swears her allegiance to these truths, she tries to but cannot resist the fact they ultimately (and very obviously) bring her as much pleasure as they do pain. It is not presumptive to believe Ellen's fate has all but been pre-determined at the hands of this ethereal creature that calls her in the night. We, the audience, quickly learn she too has a sense of life's inevitability, mainly concerning her husband, who works for the previously mentioned Knock (McBurney), who has been "entertaining dealings" with an ancient line of nobility, a foreign count - who some might describe as eccentric (to say the least). Hutter is informed this figure wishes to retire to the small town of Wisburg, where he and his new bride currently reside, and Knock has graciously teed up his protege to settle their client into his new abode from which he should draw a generous commission, something an ambitious newlywed can't rightly refuse. For this exchange to occur, though, this "foreign count" has requested an agent to come to him, in the flesh, to execute the deed as he is too infirm to make the trip more than once. It becomes clear all of this has been orchestrated around Hutter because of Ellen - that providence we spoke of - and as Hutter travels to a small country east of Bohemia known as Transylvania to meet this mysterious figure, the people, the terrain, even the atmosphere all seem to be warping around the black hole that is the castle housing Hutter's client. As a result, both in his travels and once he arrives at the manor, Hutter begins having unusual dreams that lead him to discover the true nature of this bloodline he's encountered. 

The gravitational pull of Skarsgård's Count Orlok is as undeniable as it is terrifying. As the timbre of Robin Carolan's score intensifies, so does the looming presence of Eggers' stark filmmaking style; his use of shadows, like black holes, conveys such a strange yet strong seduction that nothing, incredibly the light, can escape it. Eggers' filmmaking has never favored style over substance, but he has somehow garnered that reputation. If anything, Eggers is one of a select few who balances his multitude of themes and ideas with his affinity for particular aesthetics while allowing the two to feed off one another. At the risk of running too many terrible "jokes" together, it is how the film sinks its teeth into the central focus of Ellen's condition, her suffering, and the root of this shame/confusion/depression that allows for the color palette to appear so zapped of any saturation that it almost seems black and white yet still has such an accelerated pulse and pops of intentional color that one can't help but feel the blood consistently bubbling underneath. What Eggers has always indisputably been exceptional at is building atmosphere, and, if nothing else, Nosferatu is dripping in such a draped dread of sorts, given so much of the imagery feels thinly veiled and kept appropriately in the shadows until it becomes more than that. Eggers employs almost startling reverse shots that initially skew towards letting the air out of the room to somehow transform them into a way for the director to fully emphasize how quickly the titular vampire can manipulate the world around him so that it bends to his will. The word "rat" is contained within the film's title, which is also appropriate as Eggers verifies his ability to push the envelope while utilizing the creatures to go so far past those perceived expectations, the scurrying of the beasts across the cobblestone streets, their squeaks and sounds serving as the chorus to Carolan's score, as if the signal to inform the city of their master's arrival; a fire igniting.

As darkly stylized as this may sound, Eggers doesn't lose his gallows humor. Many of the absurdities in the story come as a result of a contemporary reaction to the speaking patterns and expectations of the time period and, therefore, through the characters themselves. Hoult, who otherwise is required to give something of a stilted performance, is given some of the funnier interactions of the film that play as such because of the stiff, self-seriousness of the Hutter character. Whether this be in reaction to his new bride confessing how she'd "never been so happy as that moment (she) held hands with death," only for him to respond with a blunt, "Never speak these things aloud." or the interactions he shares with Aaron Taylor-Johnson's wealthy shipman, Friedrich Harding, where the two of them laugh heartily (and extendedly) as they discuss one another's financial prospects and how hot their wives are, is so funny it will no doubt garner zero laughs from audience members unsure of whether they're supposed to be laughing or not. Believe it or not, this extends to Skarsgård's interpretation as well, as his vortex of a personality gives way to moments during he and Hutter's early interactions where he so blatantly ignores his inquiries that it can't help but be seen as comical. This is without even discussing Ralph Ineson's Dr. Wilhelm Sievers or Willem Dafoe's Prof. Albin Eberhart von Franz. The former of which does such things as recommending Harding, in Hutter's absence, tie Ellen’s hands to her headboard to help control her night terrors as well as having her wear a corset while she sleeps to help with blood flow (and posture, naturally) as he sedates her beyond belief. Ineson may genuinely give the best delivery in the film though, as he - standing in the background of the shot - asks the Knock character, "Now, my good fellow, why would you do that?" after we see him bite off the head of a bird in a foreground close-up. Meanwhile, Dafoe's take on the Van Helsing-like character who enters halfway through the narrative to largely provide clarity to Ellen and context to the men around her regarding what is actually happening ("Alchemy. Mystic Philosophy. The occult.") is so commanding in a fashion only Dafoe can convey that he saves the film from slipping too deeply into the darkness of its antagonist's shadow.  
 
This is both Depp and Skarsgård's show, though, and the toxic relationship the two of them form forces the burning questions Ellen is coming to terms with around where evil comes from, if it is, in fact, from within or from somewhere (or someone) beyond are what propel the narrative forward. Depp, for all her convulsing and metamorphosizing, must convey all of this confliction she is carrying within through much more than her outward starts and fits, which is in direct opposition to Skarsgård, whose performance is almost entirely physical in both body and sound. Ellen is blameless in her malady and melancholy as modern audiences are likely to see her suppressions of sexuality and the society that expects a very regimented role to be played by such corseted women as the cause for these deep feelings of shame and sin, but in Ellen's journey to find the type of touch and tenderness she seeks, she finds only an outlet that could be correlated to torture. Is it shallow to focus solely on the sexual aspect at play here, or does it make sense to radicalize what is traditionally seen as such a proper time? It's difficult to delineate Eggers’ main objective or takeaway precisely, but it's not hard to see that the broad analogy also works on multiple and deeper levels. Not that any of these ideas are new, necessarily, but by positioning Ellen as this kind of martyr for those who don't seek salvation for their genuine, human desires, “Nosferatu” posits Ellen as man's salvation from themselves. Men's views on the world shape it, and women's opinions on their men shape them. Ellen is or at least becomes aware of as much when asking her friend and Harding's wife, Anna (Emma Corrin) if she ever feels her life is at the whim of another - as if there is something too awful or grave to explain at play. Anna doesn't understand what Ellen is attempting to articulate, but we, the audience, come to understand these shadows Eggers keeps playing with visually, and the screenplay continues to mention throughout are more than foreboding as the curses, confusion, afflictions or whatever we attribute the cause of the maladies and melancholies to be are a manifestation of the realization that there is no evil that can't be defeated once we work up the nerve to come face to face with it; even a badass Bill Skarsgård performance.