It's common knowledge now (if it wasn't before) that the original 1922 Nosferatu is Dracula with the serial numbers filed off - just enough changes to try and avoid a lawsuit from the Stoker estate (which ended up happening anyway, and almost wiped the movie from history). Think about it. The first mockbuster; The Asylum is totally Murnau's fault.
Robert Eggers is a fan, and has been trying to get a remake off the ground ever since he hit it big with The VVitch almost ten years ago (this was going to be his second film, once upon a time). The reverence he holds for the material is easy to see - as carefully constructed spectacle goes, this one is just as impressive as your Dunes or Mad Maxes. It's just that instead of nuclear explosions or a thrilling attack on a vehicle convoy, you get immaculately desolate Carpathian ridges and people talking in a reconstructed dead language. Eggers gonna egg.
I barely remember either of the previous Nosferatus, as I was pretty much a teen when i watched them (Werner Herzog also had a go at remaking it back in the 70s) - the one I remember the most is Shadow of the Vampire, a pretty clever deconstructionist horror film set during the filming of the original. So I can only compare it against Dracula... and yeah, it really is Dracula with the numbers filed off - the same characters running through a very similar plot with most of the same elements.
Thomas (Nicholas Hoult), a young real estate agent is called to ratify some documents by an eccentric rich foreigner to buy a nearby property. The catch is that the count lives in a remote corner of the Carpathians, forcing our hero to leave his young, mentally fragile newlywed wife Mina Ellen (Lily Rose Depp) alone. Unbeknownst to everyone, the Count is laying a trap for the man, as he's got his sights on stealing his paramour.
The rest of the film is, beat for beat, pretty similar; as the count exerts some dread long-distance influence over Ellen, causing her to behave erratically, which forces Ellen's exasperated doctor (Ralph Inneson) to consult with his mentor - Von Franz (Willem Dafoe, who played Nosferatu in Shadow of the Vampire), a crackpot hermeticist and the Van Helsing surrogate in this story.
The vampire arrives on a ghost ship with a host of plague rats, who start spreading diseases all over town - a neat visualization of the count's influence. Thomas, who survived the Count's trap, also arrives, and starts trying to mount a resistance along with Von Franz and some friends. It all leads to a confrontation that, to put it lightly, veers left from Dracula's.
What Eggers adds as a writer here is a couple of more modern touches to the story to give Ellen a little more relevance and agency, which I think work pretty well.
On the one hand, I love that Ellen is something... other, more akin to the legendary vampire than to the rest of humankind. She originally wakes the fiend, Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgård) by praying to him in a state of complete solitude (and, it's heavily implied, sexual frustration), therefore setting the events of the film in motion. The film also pays more attention to her mental health and posits them as part of her otherness - which her Victorian-like peers of course treat as hysteria.
These changes do recontextualize the original film's famously downer of an ending... a little. But what's unclear is how they add a cogent message to the movie, or add any depth to a character whose faith still was decided by a cast of men, or whose way to save the day... is pretty unconventional*. It's messy.
Of course the other thing Egger brings to the table are his considerable chops as a stylist and a gift for bringing to life time-distant cultures. And in that respect, this film is an unmitigated success - I'd go as far as saying that it's just as crazily stylized as Coppola's wonderful take on Dracula, but instead of going for high operatic camp, Eggers goes the other direction, giving us a muted, gothic take on the material whose precise camerawork and intricate production design I can only describe as Wes Anderson on a minor key**.
The film is shot on 35mm and looks absolutely stunning at almost all times, never more than throughout a stretch of Thomas's Transylvanian jaunt where the colours drain out until it becomes a black and white film for a while, with a scene that pays homage to another classic B&W film, The Phantom Carriage at its heart. The cinematographer is Egger's regular collaborator Jarin Blaschke, and he really earns his pay here - it's a thematically and literally shadow-drenched film often only lit with natural lighting from meager candles. There's a recurring complaint that modern horror is too murky (I tend to not agree), but few use shadows as well as this one does, and everything is clearly discernible except when it isn't supposed to be. It looks luscious.
The acting is mostly great. Depp is incredible as Ellen in a very demanding role, Inneson is as baritone as ever, Dafoe plays his likeable cook with predictable flair, and Skarsgård has a lot of fun devouring the scenery with an outrageously ridiculous accent, which I guess is the prerogative of those playing vampire nobles. Oh, and Simon McBurney as the Renfield equivalent is a huge amount of fun, too.
I'm much less enthused by the young gentlemen of the piece - Hoult is... all right, though I must admit I've never found him particularly interesting; I'm convinced his high cheekbones, and the way they throw shadows on the rest of his face, were at least a factor in his casting. His friend (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), I found completely unconvincing.
Is it worth it? Well, for me, absolutely, but aside from the technical side I found this to be Egger's least rewarding film. I'm sad to report I thought it dragged a little at times. People are actually saying pretty nice things about it, though, which surprised me but I'm glad to hear. It's not arthouse ('elevated') horror, it's a proper gothic vampire tale. But it's also stilted as all hell, most of its elements are pretty shopworn, and despite an incredible sense of menace (and a really cool vampire) I wouldn't really rate it very highly as a horror film.
Fans of Twilight disappointed with the amount of vampire weenage on display in that series should note that Orlok's withered, diseased penis is on full display here. Maybe that's why people like it so much.
I don't want to sound too negative here. Lesser Eggers turns out to still be essential, and those technical aspects count for a whole lot; This one demands to be seen in the biggest screen possible. After that crossroads-set carriage scene, I would love it unconditionally even if it was half as good.
*: My proposed interpretation is much more boring: forget the psychosexual angle, and consider Orlok as a manifestation of her untreated mental illness.
**: This is meant as unqualified praise, by the way.
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