In Review: Nosferatu (2024): A Pale Shadow of Horror

Let’s get this out of the way: Nosferatu is a classic. It’s the OG vampire movie, the one that made us all rethink the whole “don’t invite strangers into your home” thing—particularly when those strangers are creepy, pale, and look like they could use a decent moisturizer. So, when the new 2024 iteration of Nosferatu hit the screens, the expectations were sky-high, which, let’s be honest, is a bit unfair for a film that’s trying to live up to nearly a century of horror legacy. But hey, someone had to try.

The Story

Alright, let’s dive into the plot. If you’ve seen the 1922 original, Nosferatu doesn’t stray too far from the blueprint. In essence, it’s the classic tale of a creepy vampire (Count Orlok, not Dracula—legal reasons, probably) who wants to move into a nice little German town, drink some blood, and cause general chaos. In this version, director Robert Eggers, who’s known for taking his time with slow burns (The Witch anyone?), keeps the core story intact but with his signature atmosphere-heavy approach.

The pacing, however, is a bit of a problem. There’s atmosphere galore, but it seems like a lot of it is trying to cover up what’s essentially a story we’ve all seen before. And I don’t just mean that in the sense of “It’s a vampire movie.” I mean it’s the same plot. Same old, same old: mysterious stranger, unnerving arrival, people being seduced (and literally drained) by darkness. It’s a tad predictable, and when you’re remaking a film that was already creepy and atmospheric in 1922, you have to ask, “Why?”

The tension is there, the dread is palpable, but it doesn’t offer anything shockingly new. It’s like listening to your favorite song but remixed with too many high-pitched synths that don’t quite add anything meaningful.

Acting

Now, let’s talk about the performances. And no, we’re not talking about some cardboard cutout vampire with bad teeth, but the performances that manage to do the heavy lifting. The star of the show here is Bill Skarsgård, who plays Count Orlok with such a deliciously unsettling presence that you might find yourself checking under your bed for creatures of the night. Skarsgård knows how to embody discomfort like no one else (thank you, It), and his portrayal of Orlok is just as creepy as it is hypnotic.

Then we’ve got Lily-Rose Depp as the female lead, who provides the perfect balance of vulnerability and stoic resolve. She’s not quite the damsel in distress, though you may be tempted to yell “Run, girl!” at your screen during the more intense moments. Depp’s performance adds a level of depth to a character that could easily slip into trope territory, which is a feat on its own.

The supporting cast holds their own, but it’s the dynamic between Skarsgård and Depp that keeps the film from completely getting lost in the fog of its own atmosphere. Honestly, they’re the glue that makes the whole thing come together.

Overall

The CGI and Stunts are a little… tricky. CGI in a Nosferatu movie? Yep, it’s there. And while it’s far from the most egregious example of CGI usage in recent horror films, it’s still not quite as seamless as you’d hope from a big-budget flick in 2024. Some of the supernatural effects, particularly those involving Orlok’s otherworldly abilities, feel a bit too obvious, as if the studio wanted to ensure we all remembered that this is, indeed, a modern take. A little subtlety would have gone a long way.

As for the stunts—well, there are a few interesting moments, particularly during the more physically demanding scenes where Orlok is, let’s say, not exactly showing off his “human” side. But there’s nothing here that will make you drop your popcorn in shock. It’s serviceable, but it doesn’t push any boundaries.

Now we get to the sound, which, let’s face it, is where most horror films live or die. The score in Nosferatu is fantastic, and that’s not hyperbole. The music pulls you into the dark, dismal world of the film, with eerie melodies that manage to build tension even when nothing is happening. It’s a soundtrack that knows how to use silence as an instrument of horror, and when the strings kick in, you’ll feel the goosebumps start to rise.

This is the one area where the film truly thrives. The sound design amplifies the atmosphere in a way that makes you feel like the darkness is closing in around you. It’s ominous, it’s intense, and, quite frankly, it’s the part of the film you’ll be talking about long after the credits roll.

Overall, it’s a film that’s definitely worth seeing if you’re a fan of Nosferatu or even if you just like slow-burn horror. But it will also leave you questioning whether we needed another version of the same old vampire story or if it could have been re-imagined into something fresher. In the end, it’s like a high-end chocolate cake with a little too much icing—still good, but a bit much.