‘Nosferatu’ Casts Dim Light of Supernatural Truth Against Vampirism and Materialism
Robert Eggers has earned a reputation for directing unique cinematic folk horror tales. He’s made The Witch (2015), The Lighthouse (2019), and The Northman (2022). All these feature detailed historical recreation, elaborate costumes, and meticulous production design. His films are thematically dark and aesthetically artsy.
Eggers’ latest film is the long-awaiting 2024 remake of Nosferatu, the classic 1922 silent German horror film by F. W. Murnau, focused on a vaguely Dracula-like vampire called Count Orlok. Last month this remake released to critical acclaim. And because vampire mythology typically imports religious concepts and symbology, fans have been curious how Eggers would portray this intersection.
The historic origins of vampire mythology well predate the original Nosferatu. Though the majority of vampire legends are rooted in European folklore, references to blood-sucking night creatures have existed around world. Two of the most notable iterations can be found in Hebrew and Greek mythology.
Nevertheless, the wellspring of contemporary vampire mythos can be mostly traced to Bram Stoker’s quintessential 1897 novel Dracula.
Murnau made his film decades after Dracula’s publication, an unauthorized and unofficial adaptation of Stoker’s novel. To avoid legal issues, Murnau altered key elements of the story. For example, Count Dracula was replaced by Count Orlok, Mina became Ellen, Abraham van Helsing was recast as Professor Albin Eberhart von Franz, and London was swapped for the fictional city of Wisborg.
Of course, there were enough similarities between Dracula and Nosferatu that Stoker’s estate eventually sued. However, by that time, Nosferatu had become wildly popular. And thus, the two vampire stories existed side-by-side, often intersecting, yet both maintaining certain distinctions.
The similarities and contrasts between both iterations are fully displayed in Eggers’ remake. Whereas Stoker’s Dracula was a cultured nobleman, who later evolved into a charming seducer of women, Egger’s Orlok is practically zombified. Indeed, the foul, rotting monstrosity, played by Bill Skarsgard, serves a sharp broadside to Twilight’s sparkly vampires and the socialites of Anne Rice’s vampire saga. Orlok is described as “the personification of death itself.” His crypt is adorned with occult symbols, and others refer to him as the Devil. He drools, gurgles, and sloughs in morbid fashion. He is a vile menagerie.
Clearly, Nosferatu marks a return to the vampire as evil. Orlok is not a sympathetic figure. He is revolting. In this, the creature personifies a central theme in Egger’s film. For as Wisborg is overtaken by plague, Ellen is simultaneously overcome by dark dreams and seizures. Indeed, we learn that during a bout of adolescent heartache, Ellen called upon the supernatural, unwittingly binding herself to Orlock. Yet as she spirals into spiritual darkness, the film’s protagonists are at a loss to explain her plight. During one such episode, she asks, “Does evil come from within us or from beyond?” We quickly learn that the men of science bound to her service are unprepared to answer such questions.
And herein lies a central, uniquely relevant, theme in Nosferatu. Whereas Orlok’s country was steeped in superstition, Wisborg is framed as part of post-Enlightenment Europe. Here, belief in devils and curses are laughingly primitive. Thus, the doctor treating Ellen diagnoses her condition through a strictly materialistic lens. He stubbornly rejects the notion of demons and instead prescribes medicine. However, as darkness envelops Ellen’s allies, it soon becomes clear that Ellen doesn’t need a doctor. She needs an exorcist.
This is why Von Franz, the eccentric doctor filling the role of Van Helsing, declares, “We have not become so much enlightened as we have been blinded by the gaseous light of science.” In this way, Nosferatu frames the battle against evil in supernatural terms. Demons are real and are not defeated through tinctures and balms. In fact, it is our dogged allegiance to science and materialism that often perpetuates such moral monstrosities.
And here’s where Stoker’s Dracula and Nosferatu intersect. For both employ religion and supernaturalism to battle evil. Dracula is replete with religious imagery. Christianity is portrayed in a positive light throughout the novel. The protagonists pray, quote Scripture, seek God’s guidance, and ultimately prevail.
For example, in the Carpathians, one protagonist’s life is saved in the care of Orthodox nuns. They reassure him that he’s safe as long as he stays at the church, because Orlok’s evil “cannot enter this house of God.” The same man is exhorted to “Trust in God.” Characters make references to Scripture, invoke angels from Christian and Jewish tradition, and mention of God’s grace and providence. Symbols of the cross are ever-present.
Egger’s iteration of the original is admittedly more of a mixed bag. He sprinkles in occultism, superstition, and fables., When it comes to contend against Orlok, the heroes’ approach is decidedly spiritual, if not “Christian.”
Fans of Robert Eggers’ previous films will appreciate the technical mastery of Nosferatu. Bleak snowscapes under moonlit skies as well as gauzy candlelit figures against frothy panes accentuate the wonderfully gothic look of the film. However, those hoping for a forthright biblical message will be disappointed. Nosferatu is rated R for nudity and intense gore. It is a brutal movie. And despite a somewhat redemptive outcome, the movie’s stark depictions of evil will leave some troubled.
Nevertheless, the director’s exploration of said evil, and its remedy, are commendable. In an age where darkness is sometimes glamorized (especially as relates to vampire lore), it’s good to see a story not equivocate about the Devil. Nor the costs of contending against him.
At one point, Professor Franz declares, “If we are to tame darkness, we must first face that it exists.” Nosferatu forces us to face the existence of real evil. If only the director had brought the Light of the World to bear more explicitly upon the dread evil his film so effectively portrays.
Share your thoughts (and stay wholesome!)