Nosferatu: A Technical Masterpiece…and That’s About It
Nosferatu (2024)
Directed by Robert Eggers
Starring Lily-Rose Depp, Nicholas Hoult, Bill Skarsgard and Aaron Taylor-Johnson
A Storied Legacy, a Weighty Undertaking
Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu arrived at the end of 2024 with the weight of cinematic history on its shoulders. His decision to remake F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror (1922)—the unauthorized adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula—places him alongside giants like Bela Lugosi in Dracula (1931), Christopher Lee in Horror of Dracula (1958), Werner Herzog with Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979), and Francis Ford Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992). This isn’t just a remake; it’s a statement about where Eggers sees himself in this storied lineage.
Scaling Back to Move Forward?
When I reviewed The Northman (2022), I focused on how its massive budget and lack of constraints may have dulled the impact of Eggers’ distinct vision. It lacked the tight, surreal focus of The Witch (2015) and The Lighthouse (2019)—films that were as engaging as they were unsettling. With Nosferatu, Eggers scales things back. In fact, if you combined the budgets of The Witch, The Lighthouse and Nosferatu, they still wouldn’t equal what he had to play with for The Northman. Could this return to a more modest budget and Eggers’ signature surrealism bring him the box office success and awards buzz that eluded his Viking epic?
One hurdle working against Eggers is expectation. This is a story that’s been retold so many times by so many legendary filmmakers that the comparisons are inevitable. Eggers, a true cinephile, surely recognized the stakes: Murnau’s Nosferatu set the standard for atmospheric horror in the silent era, Lugosi’s Dracula cemented the character in the public consciousness, Lee brought gothic flair to the 1950s, Herzog drenched his version in dreamlike dread, and Coppola took the operatic excess of the 1990s to new heights.
As much as I respect Eggers’ reverence for these predecessors, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d have been better off creating something entirely his own for his fourth film.
Crafting Captivating Worlds, but to What End?
Mentioning 2023’s The Last Voyage of the Demeter in a review about Eggers’ latest film might feel like blasphemy to film nerds. But if you’ve read my review of that film, you know I praised Norwegian director André Øvredal for his meticulous period craftsmanship. Eggers, as you’d expect, takes that to an entirely different level. While Demeter was confined to the shipyard and the claustrophobic spaces onboard, Nosferatu expands to numerous locations, each brought to life with an intense dedication to the lived-in feel of the characters’ world.
But are immaculate set designs and flawless period costumes enough to justify yet another retelling of this story (even after we had one just last year)? Probably not. What Eggers brings to the table that Øvredal has yet to achieve is top-tier lighting and blocking, which turn every single frame of Nosferatu into a thing of beauty. I can only assume Eggers is an obsessive, possibly manic perfectionist, and it shows. Each location is awe-inspiring, with blacks so deep and foreboding they almost dare you to stare into the night.
And yet, when the film ended, I couldn’t help but wish Eggers had looked deeper—not just into the shadows, but into his choice for a fourth project.
A Cast That Partially Delivers
Murnau had Max Schreck, Herzog had Klaus Kinski, and Coppola had Gary Oldman. Eggers has Bill Skarsgård, the younger brother of The Northman’s lead actor. Skarsgård’s portrayal of Pennywise the Clown in It (2017, 2019) terrified audiences worldwide, grossing over a billion dollars—not bad for a horror film. While Skarsgård might not carry the same pedigree as Schreck (German theater), Kinski (Aguirre, the Wrath of God), or Gary Oldman (Sid and Nancy), he brings undeniable popularity as a horror icon. His performance as Count Orlok doesn’t disappoint. Almost unrecognizable, Skarsgård initially lurks in the shadows, using his deliberate voice to unsettle the audience. But it’s the final act that truly reveals the grotesque horror of his form.
Nicholas Hoult had a big year in 2023, starring in three films: alongside Jude Law in The Order, as the titular character in Clint Eastwood’s Juror #2, and now in Nosferatu. His portrayal of Thomas Hutter, husband to the cursed Ellen, might be his best yet—but I can’t shake the feeling that Hoult is this generation’s version of James Marsden. Adequate and charming, yes, but rarely the focus of what’s happening on screen (The Notebook as the guy who isn’t Ryan Gosling, X-Men as Cyclops, and the “human” in the Sonic the Hedgehog films). In Nosferatu, Hoult’s performance is more of the same—serviceable but not compelling.
Lily-Rose Depp, as Ellen Hutter, brings more charisma to her role than Hoult, but her interpretation of suffering can feel a bit one-note at times as she attempts to carry the film. Eggers’ new take on the relationship between the maiden and the monster is an interesting one, and for that, I commend him. But with the film’s long runtime and the repeated dialogue of Ellen addressing her distress, it starts to feel like overkill—especially for a director like Eggers, who excels at showing rather than telling, embracing the surreal without relying heavily on words.
The remainder of the cast is solid, especially Willem Dafoe’s turn as Prof. von Franz. It seems Dafoe has become a muse for Eggers, as he’s appeared in two of Eggers’ previous films. Another frequent collaborator is veteran English actor Ralph Ineson, who probably would’ve been in all four of Eggers’ films if there had been another male role for him in The Lighthouse. Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Emma Corrin’s characters are crucial to Eggers’ retelling. They avoid the typical X-Files skeptic “Scully” trope, instead portraying a husband and wife who, despite outwardly denying the disturbing events in their household, clearly believe what’s happening.
Rounding out the cast is Simon McBurney as Herr Knock, who plays the “Renfield” character—a part that, oddly enough, Hoult portrayed in 2023’s Renfield, opposite Nicolas Cage.
Eggers’s Craftsmanship Soars, but the Story Flounders
Creatives thrive when they pour their energy into what excites them most. For Eggers, that’s clearly the past—whether it’s 1630s New England (The Witch), a desolate island in the 1890s (The Lighthouse), or 10th-century Iceland (The Northman). In all four of his films, he’s drawn from folklore to craft surreal, historically accurate worlds that feel both otherworldly and lived-in.
With Nosferatu, Eggers continues his love affair with period detail, but he leans so heavily on the influences of the writers and filmmakers who’ve told this story before that it feels like his least personal film. By embracing the overwrought nature of Bram Stoker’s material, Eggers sacrifices some of his signature storytelling style. Still, what this film lacks in originality, it makes up for in sheer craftsmanship. Eggers solidifies his place as one of the greatest living film craftsmen.
Every set piece is meticulously constructed, evoking a world that feels alive and weathered. The lighting techniques are nothing short of stunning, balancing candlelit warmth with foreboding, inky blacks that practically beg the viewer to peer into the shadows. Few filmmakers can make the darkness this inviting, and Eggers does it with an obsessive perfectionism that radiates from every frame.
But craftsmanship alone can’t tell a story. The dialogue, while competently delivered by the cast, feels stilted and inaccessible, even for fans of previous adaptations. The stakes feel low—or at least overly familiar—and the relationship between Thomas and Ellen suffers because of it. Lily-Rose Depp speaks passionately of missing her husband as he travels east to finalize a housing deal with Count Orlok, but there’s no onscreen chemistry to back up her words. When Hoult’s Thomas returns, their reunion is more awkward than emotional—almost comical in its disconnection.
Perhaps that disconnection is intentional. Maybe Eggers wanted to show Ellen consumed by her secret love and Thomas haunted by his encounter with Orlok, but without more scenes of the couple together beforehand, their bond feels nonexistent. Building that connection could have made their estrangement resonate more.
And no, I’m not asking for a longer runtime in a film that already overstays its welcome by at least 15 minutes. Instead, Eggers could have trimmed the fat: omit the extended sequence of Orlok feeding on the ship to London and streamline the back-and-forth dialogue between the three men debating how to handle the count in London. This would have freed up time to deepen the relationship between the Hutters and kept the film under two hours.
A Hollow Climax Amid Striking Imagery
Once the third act kicks in, the tension ramps up, and while the visuals remain as strong as ever, the story falters even more at the climax. The resolution relies heavily on visual spectacle rather than emotional payoff, with the final confrontation between Ellen and Count Orlok feeling more like a well-composed series of images than a satisfying narrative conclusion. The lack of emotional stakes, particularly given the underdeveloped relationship between Thomas and Ellen, leaves the climax feeling hollow, despite the striking imagery.
Eggers manages to put his own stamp on the Nosferatu story, but by the time the credits roll, I couldn’t help but wish his fourth film had been an original tale—a story entirely his own, rather than one woven from the threads of past masters.
I came around on The Northman after a second and third viewing. Perhaps I’ll do the same with Nosferatu.
6.5 out of 10