“Nosferatu” opts for shadows over light, dread over comfort and — above all — leaves an unforgettable mark. Directed with surgical precision, this reimagining of the 1922 classic stands as a testament to how horror at its best can unsettle, mesmerize and provoke thought all at once.
Lily-Rose Depp’s performance as Ellen Hutter is transformative. She brings an incredible depth to the role, showcasing vulnerability and emotion. Her portrayal of a woman plagued by dark visions and an overpowering sense of dread feels painfully real, as her tears flow and her emotions take control of the scenes.
Depp’s subtle grace and amazing acting elevate the character, making Hutter the beating heart of the film. It’s a career-defining moment that proves Depp is more than capable of commanding the screen.
Then there is Bill Skarsgård as Count Orlok. His portrayal of the vampire antagonist is chilling, a perfect embodiment of predatory evil. Through prosthetics, deliberate physicality and excellent dedication to voice, Skarsgård becomes the stuff of nightmares. Orlok is a force of nature — or technically against nature — and a manifestation of horror that leaves you squirming with unease.
The film’s visual language is equally breathtaking. Shadows glue to the characters, wrapping them in an atmosphere of isolation and eeriness. Every scene has a beautiful period house with pretty curtains and great wood-worked furniture. The sky was covered in clouds; rats ran around the streets, tying to themes of sickness and gloom. As the movie progressed the rats took over more areas of the film, in buildings and on people, showing how rapidly sickness can spread. The color palette grew darker and less colorful, despite never being vibrant in the first place.
The use of darkness and little light isn’t just aesthetic — it’s storytelling. It mirrors the moral decay and lurking evil that defines Nosferatu’s world.
Of course, a great horror movie isn’t just about what you see; it’s about what you feel. The film’s soundtrack amplifies the emotional stakes at every turn. From the creeping dread that underscores Orlok’s presence to the moments of calm in Wisborg. The music is alive, with rising and falling moments like a character. It frames the scenes to match the intensity or dullness of a moment.
But let me be clear, “Nosferatu” is not for everyone. The film doesn’t shy away from grotesque imagery or sexual themes that may be uncomfortable or triggering for some viewers. It walks a razor-thin line between repulsion and interest. For those willing to embrace the darkness and discomfort, the payoff is extraordinary.
Horror is often dismissed as low art, as something that relies on gore or shock value rather than inspire. But “Nosferatu” reminds us that the genre can do all the above. It can unsettle you to your core while leaving you in awe of its artistry.