Vampires are having their moment, and you could say it's pretty fang-tastic.
Robert Egger’s rendition of “Nosferatu” debuted to audiences in December and masterfully retells the classic vampire tale from the 1922 German silent film, living up to the visually arresting and atmospherically compelling original. A bewildering variety of surviving prints, restorations and alternate versions of “Nosferatu” have been created and attempted in the last century or so, but the latest rendering indubitably stands out.
“Nosferatu” is chock full of everything you’d want in a gothic horror — decaying castles, grey colorscapes and a young woman facing intense emotional turmoil. The story takes place in Germany in 1838 and focuses on young couple Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) and Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult) as they fight to survive a terrorizing curse plaguing them and their marriage.
An enduring aspect of “Nosferatu” films has been their unique depictions of vampires. No, get that image of Edward from “Twilight” out of your head, and instead think of a literal living corpse. Nosferatu, or Count Orlok, played by Bill Skarsgård (albeit underneath layers of prosthetics) is a decaying corpse, fixed with a skeletal body of a grey-purplish hue and a sprinkling of wispy hair. His rendering is downright disgusting, but oh-so-well crafted and genuinely terrifying in up-close moments (of which there are many).
Lily-Rose Depp breathes new life into protagonist Ellen Hutter, allowing her to take on a more autonomous role in the film. This Ellen is desperate and vulnerable but simultaneously brave and strong in her choices.
Nicholas Hoult portrays Thomas Hutter with tears in his eyes and a ragged scream ripping out of his throat every thirty-odd minutes. Thomas works hard, loves his wife and aspires to be a well-rounded gentleman and good husband.
In this adaptation, several side characters receive expanded roles, with Friedrich (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and Anna Harding (Emma Corrin) standing out the most. Unlike their limited presence in the original, the lively couple is portrayed with greater depth, which makes their tragic deaths by the film’s conclusion even more impactful.
The 1992 film depicts these characters differently: Friedrich lives with his sister, Anna is not his wife, and he has no children. Ellen's interactions with the Hardings are quiet and minimal.
“Nosferatu” reimagines this dynamic, establishing Anna and Ellen as lifelong friends, while Friedrich and Thomas share a similarly close bond.
Eggers also introduces Friedrich’s skepticism of the supernatural, a trait absent in the original.
One major difference between “Nosferatu” and its predecessors is the character Professor Albin Eberhart Von Franz, portrayed by Willem Dafoe. Egger’s new character is an occult scientist and self-proclaimed vampire hunter who helps Ellen and her husband uncover the darkness behind Nosferatu’s curse. His character is an interesting pivot from the earlier films since he plays a crucial role in furthering this epic drama.
Von Franz is a man on one mission: salvation from darkness. He employs any technique, no matter how fantastic, to reach his goal of absolving Depp’s frail yet tortured Ellen from the madness that haunts her every waking hour.
The very nature of Ellen’s relationship with Count Orlok takes on new life in this version. In the original, Count Orlok becomes infatuated with Ellen after seeing a portrait of her when Thomas visits his castle, leading him to torment the young woman through his curse. In Egger’s version, Ellen is the one responsible for summoning Orlok to her when she was a young girl, using her connection to the supernatural to address her loneliness. This aspect makes their relationship feel more intimate and enduring.
One of the most visually pleasing moments is a frame of Thomas standing in the ominous and eerie dark forest outside Count Orlok’s castle. Thomas is met at a crossroads — this time a physical one, far from the metaphorical one he had encountered earlier (to leave or to stay with his desperate bride).
The forest is dark, the trees and Thomas are just a silhouette. A carriage is delivered, suddenly, pulled by a pair of midnight stallions that one fears would jump out of the screen and trample the audience. The moment is potent, dark and damning; the carriage delivers Thomas to the dilapidated castle of Nosferatu, catalyzing the rest of the plot.
The costume design is incredible, far from an afterthought. It draws heavily from gothic fashion and the dark romanticism of traditional silhouettes, yet they also reflect individuality and modern reinterpretation. Costume director Linda Muir’s designs — featuring intricate lace, corsets that simultaneously restrict and empower, and elongated sleeves that have an ethereal quality — become visual symbols of desire, control and fragility.
The wedding outfit that Ellen dons before sacrificing herself to Orlok (to fulfill the curse) has lilac in the headpiece; the very same flower that Orlok associates with her, the same flowers that she cried over before Thomas left her, the same flowers that she knows she smells of. While Orlok is pursuing her, she is also luring him in. She is finally ready to confront the dark contortion of her desire.
Her husband is dismissive of her lust and her heightened emotions, which leads her to manifest her desires in a manner she is disgusted by but yearns for in a very primal way. Orlok is representative of how Ellen experiences her sexuality — as something monstrous but also intrinsically tied to her being.
“Nosferatu” is a controversial piece. Many are torn between the horror and sensuality of gothic romance being depicted on the silver screen — is Ellen being preyed upon? Is she doing the preying? Is Thomas a good husband? Is anyone in this film “good” to begin with?
In that controversy lies the answer — humans are complex. The metaphors we use as filmmakers, writers and artists to convey our complexities can be befuddling, and isolating. Yet when you truly think about it — what demons do you have in your closet? And how far are they willing to travel to find you?
Norah Khan '27 (she/her) is an Arts & Culture editor.
She is planning to major Political Science with a possible minor in Spanish. Outside of The Campus she is also involved with JusTalks, Matriculate.org, College Democrats, QuestBridge and the Rohatyn Global Fellows Program. Norah enjoys reading, running, listening to podcasts and drinking a good cup of chai.