‘Nosferatu’ Luxuriates in the Stench of Death

Robert Eggers’ new adaptation is gothic horror at its finest.

No one marries sex and death together quite like filmmaker Robert Eggers. From the sinful thoughts permeating his debut feature The Witch to the sirens’ call towards Robert Pattinson’s doomed keeper in The Lighthouse to the Oedipal desires coursing through The Northman, these primal forces always find themselves intertwined in a Robert Eggers movie, and perhaps never more so than in his latest film, Nosferatu. A new adaptation of the classic F.W. Murnau silent film (itself an unofficial adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula), Eggers’ take on the material has him looking at plague through a lens of repulsion and allure. While the larger beats play to the familiar plot of Dracula, Eggers’ careful craftsmanship and how he centers his heroine give this Nosferatu unique dimensions that give this new version a delectable flavor all its own.

If you’re even casually aware of the Dracula story, the larger plot beats are mostly the same here. There’s a mysterious guy named Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgård) living out in Transylvania who calls upon young solicitor Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult) to facilitate the purchase of an old ruin in Germany but whose true desire is to hunt for fresh prey, especially Hutter’s fianceé, Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp). Ellen already seems to have a peculiar connection with Orlok. As Thomas goes missing and Ellen’s health worsens, they require the unusual expertise of Prof. Albin Eberhart Von Franz (Willem Dafoe), who realizes that this is all the work of Orlok’s vampiric menace.

Lily Rose-Depp as Ellen Hutter in Nosferatu (2024) | Image via Aidan Monaghan/Focus Features

Synopses can only take you so far. Have you seen Nosferatu before? Sure, but by the rationale of oft-adapted work, you’ve also seen every version of Hamlet, The Odyssey, and other classic stories that have stood the test of time. The question is whether Eggers has anything new to add here. When Murnau made his adaptation in 1922, he provided incredible visuals, and, despite its new name and almost being sued into oblivion, a film far more faithful to the underlying dread of the novel than the famous 1931 Bela Lugosi movie. Werner Herzog’s 1979 remake was an exciting spin that brought a level of tragedy and saw Orlok as part-and-parcel of a dying world, less a powerful figure of menace than one who is as doomed as those he encounters.