Years ago, when I first heard that Robert Eggers was interested in doing a NOSFERATU remake, I was over the moon; I couldn’t have imagined a better match of director and material. F.W. Murnau’s unauthorized 1922 adaptation of DRACULA has always been my favorite iteration of that character (or at least the most terrifying) and I was certain that Eggers’ vision and immaculate filmmaking skills would make for way more than just a superfluous adaptation.
So I entered the Alamo Drafthouse Brooklyn last Thursday (along with my brother, Ken, who graciously treated) with way higher expectations than I normally afford myself when going to the movies (even with that occurrence being very rare in the After Times).
And it was fine. I liked it. But NOSFERATU was not the immersive, terrifying experience for which I’d hoped.
I think for me, the biggest issue was that Eggers’ laser-focused insistence on period accuracy worked against the film in this case (unlike in THE VVITCH, when it enhanced that movie’s mood and effectiveness). Making sure your characters are clad in the right clothes, living in the right environments, utilizing the right implements are all laudable goals… to an extent. But when working in the realm of fantasy, shouldn’t there be a little leeway?
Yeah, I’m talking about the mustache. I mean, not JUST the mustache, but the fact that Robert Eggers INSISTED that his Count Orlok (well played by Bill Skarsgård) have a big bushy lip scrub just because it was the style at the time felt like a bit too much. The only aspect of this version of Nosferatu that’s anywhere near as terrifying as the gaunt demon played by Max Schreck over a century ago is his hands (and maybe his coat… but an outer garment shouldn’t be more imposing than Nosferatu’s face). It’s almost as if Eggers forgot that you don’t have to make everything believable IN A VAMPIRE MOVIE.
But I did not dislike the film as a whole. The acting is good, the cinematography is gorgeous (although part of me almost wishes Eggers had filmed it in black and white, as the washed out tones are almost never punched up with any color that might’ve added some graphic intensity), there are a handful of indelible shots… but I was expecting more than a handful. Most of the time, it didn’t even feel like a Robert Eggers film to me (an opinion that’s raised some disbelieving hackles amongst my film nerd friends). My favorite thing about this movie shouldn’t be its logo.
Again, my expectations were probably too high. I should know better. We’ll see how I feel when I watch it again after it drops on some streaming platform (and I am glad I didn’t wait for that to see it the first time… I missed all of Eggers’ previous films on the big screen, which I regret).
I should also comment on this being my first Alamo Drafthouse experience… another thing that’s been hyped over the years to lofty assumptions. And again… it was fine. But, like so many other things in the 21st century, for me, it’s TOO much choice. I’m on record as disliking assigned seating in movie theaters, but at least the “no talking, no cell phones” rules eliminate the main reason that I usually want the freedom to move. The reclining lounge chairs are nice, but not necessary. And while it’s great (GREAT) to be able to order a beer or a cocktail, I neither need nor want more than traditional snacks during a movie. I don’t even like the idea of those shitty nachos or hot dogs at the average multiplex. Who the hell wants to eat wings or a burger in a darkened room where you can’t see what you’re doing and the smell is as liable to be intrusive to other patrons as when people chow down on a subway car (which is, of course, verboten)? Bottomless popcorn, yes. Fish and Chips? Hell no!
But, as usual, that’s just me.
(And thanks again, Kenny! It was a really fun day!)
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