1st January 2025, New Year’s Day, and what better way to spend it than being transfixed by the stunning scenery and sinister narrative of Robert Eggers’s newest film Nosferatu. This retelling of F. W. Murnau’s 1922 silent film Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror shocked me with its viscera, infusing new life and new meaning into the well-known and much loved gothic vampire story. Despite it being so early in the year, I’m convinced this film will be one of my top 2025 releases, and so (while keeping it as spoiler free as possible) here is my review!
[Quick note to anyone hoping to watch the film: check out the trigger warnings first, as it contains material you may find upsetting such as depictions of sexual abuse and graphic violence/blood.]
From the very beginning the stand out element of this film lies in its cinematography and set design. It was so enjoyable to see a film use its technical elements to lean so heavily into its gothic elements in so many different ways. The colourisation had a sickly greyish tinge that created beautiful contrast with the imposing blackness of the Count’s castle in Transylvania. There were also so many incredible shots framing characters with the background, particularly in moments that involved windows. Thomas’s (played by Nicholas Hoult) journey to Transylvania at the start of the film builds tension masterfully and a large part of this is down to camera angles; a particularly brilliant moment involves a 180 degree manoeuvre from Thomas’s face to reveal a carriage, drawn by no one, sitting in front of him. The soundscape of the film is also wonderfully composed – if a little loud at times!
Unsurprisingly to say I study English, the main point of interest to me was the narrative and thematic elements of the film, and I was floored! Firstly, the film did a great job at honouring its gothic roots; the supernatural, dark, and mysterious elements were foregrounded and utilised in a way that built suspense and discomfort brilliantly. It also honoured the inherent sexuality in the gothic genre in a way that did not shy from the uncomfortable aspects of depicting a story of sexual abuse. The scenes where Count Orlok drinks the blood of his victims are often framed in a way that mimics sexual intercourse, more than once actually occurring while the victim lays in bed. These scenes are graphic and somewhat difficult to watch, and led to a lot of people online warning against watching the film with your parents (much like the treatment Emerald Fennell’s Saltburn was getting in late 2023).
To me, the people complaining about the graphic and visceral nature of these scenes are missing the point. A key component of the gothic is that it doesn’t dance around discomfort: it makes you face it head on. The exploration of the sexual abuse suffered by Ellen (played spectacularly by Lily-Rose Depp) is supposed to be shocking, uncomfortable, even upsetting, because that is the reality of her experience. The melancholy tone the film took on underneath its tension and action was masterfully done, and it transformed the film into so much more than just another remake of the same, although classic, vampire tale.
Another fantastic element of the story were the interpersonal relationships between the characters. The love between husband and wife Thomas and Ellen is arguably the beating heart of the film; Ellen’s bond with friend Anna (Emma Corrin) is similarly rich. Even the connections between Count Orlok and the characters – his victims – seems alive and pulsing. He feels actually connected to them in a deep, interior way, rather than simply being the monster that stalks them just because they happened to be in his path. Bill Skarsgård disappears into the role of the vampire, much like he did when becoming Pennywise in the 2017 adaptation of IT; if you look closely, you can catch a glimpse of the clown in the eyes of the Count!
I have always loved the gothic; Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel Dracula was a stand out read for me. Seeing this film staying faithful to the genre and the tale it adapts while also elevating it technically and thematically was a joy to experience, and left me watching the credits roll unable to collect the myriad of thoughts I had about it. A must see for classic horror fans, literature fans, filmmaking fans… maybe everyone should watch it. If uncomfortable films aren’t your thing I’d give it a miss, but I think one of the things that makes film great is the ability to create discomfort in a way that says something about it, and this film definitely does that.
Image by Adrien Olichon on Pexels