Nosferatu (1922)
Directed by F. W. Murnau
The mysterious Count Orlok summons a happily married real estate agent to his castle, located up in the Transylvanian mountains, to finalise a terrifying deal.
22 connections found
View:
22 connections, in both directions
What critics compared Nosferatu to
The genial Viago (Waititi), a 17th-century dandy, affects the frilly shirts and jewelry of the Hammer horror movies; Vladislav (Clement), a 12th-century hypnotist and impaler, favors the swarthy pop-star look of Gary Oldman in Bram Stoker's Dracula ; Petyr (Ben Fransham), apparently even older, is a mirror image of the rodentlike bloodsucker in Nosferatu ; and Deacon (Jonathan Brugh), the baby at 183, is the "bad boy" of the group, Viago explains in his ongoing narration to the camera.
While individual gags and cineliterate nods (from Nosferatu to Blade ) may have comical bite, there’s not enough meat to sink its feature-length fangs into.
And they do it while paying reverent tribute to the great vampire movies of the past, from Fransham’s Petyr being a deadringer for the iconic fiend from the classic “Nosferatu,” to Waititi’s fastidious Viago (He implores his messy roomies to please stop getting blood all over his antique couch.)
Airing more on the side of comedy, Clement and Waititi poke fun at numerous vampire generations in the same movie, from Nosferatu to Twilight, and they do so through a Big Brother-esque documentary that introduces audiences to a group of vampires just trying to survive in today’s crazy, monster-hating world.
Which is exactly how What We Do in the Shadows operates; scuttling between genres, sucking in references from Nosferatu to Twilight, and spraying out comedic lifeblood by way of a banal, acerbic perspective, and fully-realised characters.
Jonathan Brugh’s Deacon nods to the bad-boy bloodsuckers of The Lost Boys, while Ben Fransham’s Petyr – bald, ghastly white and with a mouth full of crooked fangs – is a genuinely unsettling evocation of the great Nosferatu.
With its industrial sound effects (including, Mark Korven's menacingly booming score), suffocating black and white photography, and dreamlike narrative logic, The Lighthouse evokes David Lynch's monochrome nightmare Eraserhead, as well as the cosmic terror of H.P. Lovecraft and the silent expressionist cinema of F.W. Murnau (Eggers is an admitted Nosferatu fanboy, after all), right down to its vintage square box aspect ratio.
His initial follow-up was set to be the third iteration of Nosferatu , the immortal Murnau take on Dracula.
It’s rather telling that the director opted for this aesthetic given that his second feature was originally supposed to be a remake of Nosferatu – and if this film is any indication, he probably would’ve nailed it.
La mimesis de la realidad es reemplazada por su inevitable abstracción, construida en tonos de gris y negro, luminismo hecho de blancos y sombras que recuerda los claroscuros expresionistas de El gabinete del Dr. Caligari (1920) de Robert Wiene y Nosferatu (1922) de F.W. Murnau.
Reportedly, Eggers has since been attached to a Nosferatu remake and a miniseries about Rasputin, both of which sound very interesting.
After the critical success of his abstract 2016 horror The Witch , he signed on to direct a reimagining of Nosferatu - but with that project seemingly fallen by the wayside, he’s instead channelled his desire to update the early horror films of the German Expressionism movement into his boldly original second feature.
I love vampire flicks, going all the way to the silent "Nosferatu" through Lugosi and Lee to "Bram Stoker's Dracula" and "The Lost Boys."
Director Neil Jordan ( The Crying Game ) imbues several scenes with eerie poetry that honors such great movie fantasists as Jean Cocteau and Nosferatu director F.W. Murnau, and these touches look good on video — this shadowy movie has been sensitively transferred to the small screen.
But the first great vampire movie, " Nosferatu " (1922), knew better, and so does this one.
The film, which was written by Elisa Briganti (who later worked with Fulci on Manhattan Baby and House by the Cemetery), opens with a nod to F.W. Murnau’s unauthorized Dracula adaptation Nosferatu (1922) as an abandoned sailboat slowly wanders into the New York harbor.
Advertisement
Peter Cushing carries most of the ho-hum script as Dr. Van Helsing, though the well-lit color photography, central to the Hammer formula, can't compare with the shadowy magnificence of Nosferatu (1922) or Dracula (1931).
With a look that takes its inspiration from equal parts "Edward Scissorhands" and F.W. Murnau's "Nosferatu," Depp once again affects the chalky pallor that has become something of a signature throughout his eight-movie collaboration with Burton.
A lot of this is due to Depp’s performance, which is comparatively restrained and relies a lot on Burton making him resemble Count Orlok in Nosferatu with a strange haircut.
Throughout the film, Murnau draws a fateful triangle between Dracula, Harker and Mina.
“Nosferatu” is a better title, anyway, than “Dracula.”
Forget the countless Dracula films over the decades, even the classic ones starring Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee and Gary Oldman: Murnau's German feature Nosferatu remains the best vampire movie of all time.
Before them all was Bram Stoker's classic 1897 novel "Dracula," loosely based on the real-life case of Vlad the Impaler, and the first film out of the gate to be (unofficially) adapted from that work was 1922's "Nosferatu."
That nickname applies to an instantly iconic Nicolas Cage creation, no less disturbing than Max Schreck’s hunchbacked Nosferatu, a performance that has been a career-long inspiration for Cage. Like that early screen vampire, Longlegs puts us on edge with his twisted body language and exaggerated gestures — that, plus odd framing that crops him off at the head, explains how the character manages to worm his way into our brains.
Advertisement
It takes vampires as seriously as the versions of " Nosferatu " by Murnau and Herzog do, and that is very seriously indeed.
[Rating: 3.5 out of 5] Let Me In (Matt Reeves, 2010) Let the Right One In gets something of a tonal inversion in the remake Let Me In, a triumph of imaginative, intelligent adaptation and breathtakingly assured direction; it joins Werner Herzog's Nosferatu and David Cronenberg's The Fly as one of the greatest horror movie remakes.
Vampire movies go back at least as far as the 1922 classic "Nosferatu," so it is not easy to come up with an unexpected twist.
Let the Right One In may be the most lyrical vampire fable since Werner Herzog's 1979 remake of Nosferatu, but it's still got genre in its blood.
The name could be an homage to "Count Orlock," which was the name of the Dracula character in Nosferatu , and Olaf's first scene borrows heavily from the meet-and-greet with the Lugosi vampire.