Review –  Nosferatu: A Valiant Work in Hard-to-Watch Horror

Content Guide

Violence/Scary Images: Frequent depictions of death, both human and animal. Grisly violence and blood are present, with infrequent jump scares and a pervasive atmosphere of heavy, fearful tension.

Language/Crude Humor: Mild obscenities and exclamations are used.

Drug/Alcohol References: Characters occasionally drink and smoke.

Sexual Content: Heavy and explicit depictions of sexuality are present throughout, playing a crucial role in the narrative. Multiple sex scenes are shown, accompanied by intimate visuals and overtly sexual dialogue. Jarring necrophilia. Nudity.

Spiritual Content: References to demonic activity, though unspecified. Characters pray, and crucifixes are featured.

Other Negative Content: A general tone of darkness and pessimism pervades the narrative.

Positive Content: Sacrifice for others is portrayed as a positive trait, with resilient characters motivated by love for one another.

Robert Eggers’ filmography is perhaps best known for being “not for everyone,” to put it lightly.

Despite his undeniable talent and penchant for period-piece storytelling, he often pushes boundaries many viewers would rather avoid. Nosferatu is no exception, though it may be his most concise and compelling work yet.

If you’ve seen the 1922 original film of the same name, you can set those expectations aside. Beyond a few cosmetic nods, this Nosferatu is truly its own creation. Eggers infuses the film with a gritty, fantastical darkness that has become his signature style.

Every visible color feels like a variation of black. Water flows under boats and barges as if it’s a living, malevolent force, warning of the evil to come. Shadows dominate the screen, often more prominent than faces — sometimes even replacing them. Cinematically, this is a masterpiece.

With Eggers’ name tied to both the direction and writing, the film is unmistakably shaped by his unique vision. It feels like the kind of work that will be remembered decades from now as “Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu.“

Much of its brilliance is also owed to the stellar cast Eggers has assembled. Lily-Rose Depp delivers a performance both brilliant and haunting in the lead role, supported by Nicholas Hoult as her conflicted husband and overshadowed — narratively and otherwise — by Bill Skarsgård as the titular monster.

These are award-worthy performances across the board and, once again, stand out as highlights in what is already a distinguished filmography for Eggers. This feels like a movie he’s been meaning to make for a long time, and everyone involved seems acutely aware of that.

The story itself adheres to the classic framework: The count insinuates himself into a town and its societal life through the purchase of a home within its borders. His ultimate target is Depp’s Ellen Hutter, with the film placing heavy emphasis on the theme of tarnished love.

If Nosferatu weren’t horror, it could almost be described as a tragic romance. However, this concept is stretched in ways that may feel jarring, with scenes of graphic sexuality and intimate suggestions weaving their way into moments of strong scares and eerie atmosphere.

This aspect of the film is likely to drive viewers away. Do these inclusions function on a narrative level within the larger story? Absolutely. But they also distract and introduce significant discomfort. Perhaps that was Eggers’ intent; yet even so, these deviations from the traditional tone of such tales feel somewhat overbearing at times.

Still, Nosferatu is a remarkably powerful entry in the horror genre when taken as a whole. It surpasses most major horror releases of the past few years and will likely stand out in the long run as a singular achievement from an exceptionally dedicated director.

If you can endure the violence and visceral intensity, this is a film worth seeking out by any means. It’s a great, challenging work through and through.