Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu

Bela Lugosi memorably launched the tradition of suavely elegant portrayals of Count Dracula. His approach remains the most popular. However, he was predated by Max Schreck’s depiction of the infamous Count in F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu, whose freakish appearance served as a physical manifestation of his moral corruption. He was also German. Lugosi and Anne Rice’s smooth-talking vamps remain more popular, but Schreck still spawned his followers, including Werner Herzog’s remake of the 1922 silent classic (with the names re-Stokerized). Now, horror auteur Robert Eggers’ presents his take on the Teutonic Dracula story in Nosferatu, which opens Christmas day in theaters.

Eggers’ screenplay returns to the names Henrik Galeen’s century-old screenplay that so transparently substituted Count Orlok, Thomas Hutter, and Prof. Sievers for Count Dracula, Jonathan Harker, and Dr. Seward, Stoker successfully sued, securing the destruction of nearly all but a few blessedly surviving prints of the film. In one of Eggers’ few departures, Prof. Van Helsing is now Prof. Albin Eberhart Von Franz, a brand new moniker for the familiar occultist.

Once again, newlywed Hutter journeys to Transylvania to facilitate a reclusive nobleman’s real estate transaction—and it turns out just as badly as ever. However, Orlok intentionally wanted Hutter out of the way, because he already forged a sinister connection to his new bride, Ellen (a.k.a. Mina). Since Hutter’s boss Knock (a.k.a. Renfield) also happens to be Orlok’s enthralled servant, he duly orders Hutter to the Carpathians, where the junior clerk gets somewhat delayed in the castle.

While much more monstrous than conventional tall, dark, and handsome vampires, Eggers’ Orlack is still highly sexualized, in very disturbing ways. Somehow, despite distance and circumstance, Orlack’s spirit seduced and defiled Ellen in her youth. She hoped her love for Hutter would redeem her, but the vampire will not let her go easily.

Regardless, fans know what to expect when Orlack’s trunks arrive on the decimated ship on which they sailed. However, Eggers emphasizes the rats, worthy of “Three Skeleton Key,” which disembark from the derelict vessel, spreading pestilence throughout the city. Conditions get so bad, Prof. Sievers reluctantly consults his slightly disgraced former mentor, Prof Von Franz (a.k.a. Dr. Bulwer, a.k.a. Prof. Van Helsing), who seems to secretly understand the situation more than he lets on.

By horror movie standards, Eggers’ Nosferatu is absolutely gorgeous looking. In addition to Murnau’s original, Eggers and cinematographer Jarin Blaschke achieve a dreamlike vision that suggest the shimmering fantasia visions of Guy Maddin as an unlikely source of inspiration. The film is steeped in Old World gothic atmosphere. In fact, it revisited some of Murnau’s 1922 locations.

Regardless, Bill Skarsgard is amazing and rather frightening to behold, as the demonic Orlok. By now, he could be considered the Doug Jones of leading men. His presence is ferocious, to the point of outright viciousness. Yet, there is still a seductiveness to Orlok’s grotesqueness.

Of course, the perfectly cast Willem Dafoe is jolly good fun to watch unleashing his inner Peter Cushing as the brilliant but erratic Von Franz. Honestly, Ralph Ineson has yet to get the credit he deserves as a horror all-star, but he is every bit Dafoe’s equal playing the sharp-tempered Sievers.

Contenders: The Lighthouse

Lighthouse keeping was a heck of a profession. So-called “wickies” shared all of sailors’ common superstitions, but faced unique challenges of isolation, inclement weather, and potential madness. Recently, filmmakers have discovered how well suited these lonely outposts are to serve as the settings for horror movies and psychological thrillers. Rising genre star Robert Eggers and his co-screenwriter brother Max looked to Edgar Allan Poe’s unfinished short story and the historical “Smalls Lighthouse” incident as inspiration for The Lighthouse, which screens during MoMA’s annual Contenders series.

Ephraim Winslow assumes he will be sharing most of the lightkeeping duties with the senior keeper, Thomas Wake, but instead the crusty old timer assigns him all the menial tasks, while hoarding the hands-on light-tending for himself. He seems perversely attached to the light, even stripping himself naked in its presence.

In addition to Wake’s blowhard bullying, Winslow must also fend off a rather mean-spirited one-eyed seagull. Of course, Wake sternly warns him against harming the nasty bird, because he shares the old folk belief that seafowl carry the spirits of dead sailors. The junior lightkeeper is further unnerved by visions of a seductively sinister mermaid and a tentacle beast worthy of Lovecraftian fiction. The only thing keeping him sane is the expectation the ferry will arrive soon to take him back to the mainland—but it doesn’t.

The Eggers Brothers’ narrative is very much like that of Chris Crow’s The Lighthouse, but the two films are worlds apart stylistically. Crow’s film is a tight, tense two-hander, but it looks like the classy BBC Films production that it was. In contrast, Eggers’ Lighthouse is shot in a claustrophobically tight aspect ratio and lensed in a strikingly stark black-and-white by cinematographer Jarin Blaschke.

The resulting film is like watching a fever dream recorded on a vintage kinetoscope. In terms of tone, some of the best comparative titles might be the trippier, occult-themes films of Georges Méliès. It looks incredible, but the Eggerses really couldn’t figure out how to end it, so they just sort of stop without fully developing a number of their themes.