Film review: Nosferatu – Eine Symphonie des Grauens (1922)

Back at the onset of lockdown two years ago, when the film binge choice in our house ranged from Peter Rabbit and The Sound of Music to Mean Girls and Cars 2, I opted for motion pictures of a different nature.  YouTube was and is stacked with some silent classics, albeit of varying quality yet with much intrigue and some mystique, so it would've been rude not to make the most of the freebies available.

The German Dracula interpretation known as 'Nosferatu' was the first of a fair view I indulged in. Set between 19th-century Wisborg and Transylvania, estate agent John Hutter is tasked with visiting Count Orlak at his castle as selling him a house essentially across the road from his own.  Upon closing the sale, the vampire notices his young wife Ellen, by way of a photograph and begins to prey on her, with Hutter becoming a temporary prisoner and unwittingly aiding his passionate pursuit.

In the process of travelling via a chartered ship to Wisborg (a fictional town), and in somewhat of a timely manner for when I watched this, the Count brings a plague to the city, wiping out most of the inhabitants following his fateful voyage where he had disposed of the entire crew.  Towards the end it is only Ellen - at this point literally spellbound by Orlok - that can bring his reign of terror to an end by sacrificing herself, to the point where he remains with her until breaking of dawn and is destroyed by sunlight.

A lot of things stand out about this film, which celebrated its centenary earlier this year.  Firstly the lead character is no Robert Pattinson.  Where in recent times celluloid vampires were smooth and dapper, actor Max Schreck is everything but: his antagonist resembles a rat and has no redeeming qualities whatsoever, aside from his longing for Ellen which even then shows no affection.  Whilst the marriage between the Hutters is portrayed as a little too wholesome, the narrative where the Count traditionally stalks virginal blood is changed here which may or may not have been a headache for film censors at the time.

Secondly, all mention of Dracula and such-like characters from the eponymous novel is removed due to copyright restrictions, however this was not enough to satisfy the Bram Stoker estate at the time; thus allegedly all but one print of the movie were destroyed, with the surviving set of frames contributing to what's available today.  With different character names, some settings and plot variations, Nosferatu becomes an early prototype for two music, where words are re-written over familiar melodies and samples.

Thirdly the recurring images or archways, like the doorway that Orlak exits upon officially meeting Hutter for the first time (he earlier impersonates a sinister coachman) and when the Count makes his first visible attack.  Director F.W. Murnau is clever with a number of tidbits throughout the film which tie together, as well as film techniques that only heighten discomfort and tension throughout the story.

Not the first vampire film ever made - that honour apparently goes to the Hungarian flick Dracula's Death (1921) - but by far the earliest to provide influence and something of a blue print for future horror yarns.  With the more famous Bela Lugosi adaptation from Universal Pictures coming less than a decade later, Nosferatu became an international standard bearer - so much so it was directly remade in 1979 by German director Werner Herzog, with the Dracula character names restored owing to novel falling in to the public domain.

Is it scary?  For its time, it would have been.  And it maintains an aura of creepiness that only a black-and-white classic can create.  If you haven't already seen it, please devote 90 minutes of your time - but do so with a lamp on!....