A Thematic Critique of Nosferatu (2024)

More Than 100 Years of Horror

Let’s get something straight from the outset: I’ve been a vampire film enthusiast for longer than most people have had the capacity for coherent thought, much less the capacity to appreciate true art. My obsession stretches back to childhood, though pinpointing the exact moment it began is as elusive as a shadow at dusk. What I can tell you is that my early indoctrination came courtesy of Hammer Horror films on late-night TV—opulent, macabre, and delightfully British. They towered above the American drivel of the same era. Sure, The Lost Boys has its fans (and its hair), and Fright Night tries, but those glossy, camp-riddled offerings always felt more like candy-coated fluff rather than the rich, sombre feast that proper vampire horror deserves to be.

That’s not to say American cinema was a total wasteland for the genre. Interview with the Vampire managed to sink its fangs into me, even with all its overwrought drama, and Near Dark—well, that one might as well have put me under a spell. But if we’re ranking cinematic vampire masterpieces, they all cower in the shadow of one undeniable titan: Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror (1922). Yes, the very same piece of celluloid that nearly got burned out of existence thanks to a series of lawsuits and yet has survived a century to haunt our screens.

This film didn’t just change the game; it created it. It’s my north star, my gold standard. My love for it is no secret—ask anyone who’s been cursed to endure a conversation with me about horror films. My top three vampire films? Oh, that’s easy: Nosferatu (1922), Nosferatu: The Vampyre (1979), and Shadow of the Vampire (2000). Yes, in case it wasn’t clear, I’m very much here for the Nosferatu cinematic universe, if such a thing existed.

Now, fast-forward to 2024. Robert Eggers, an auteur with a knack for atmospheric dread and historical fidelity, has the audacity to remake my beloved Nosferatu 102 years after its inception. Of course, my tiny, miserable social circle immediately demanded my verdict, because apparently, I’m some sort of vampire film oracle (their words, not mine). The truth is, discussing this remake is impossible without sifting through over a century of cinematic evolution, cultural shifts, and thematic reinterpretations that have unfolded since 1922.

So, before we dive into Egger’s latest offering, I must insist: if you haven’t yet seen the original Nosferatu, Herzog’s haunting 1979 adaptation, and the brilliant Shadow of the Vampire—stop reading. Go watch them. Seriously. This essay will be referencing visual, thematic, and cultural elements that demand some semblance of understanding beyond surface-level familiarity. Cinema is a visual medium, after all, and these films are foundational texts in the language of horror.