This past Christmas, director Robert Eggers, known for “The Lighthouse” and “The Witch,” released his eagerly awaited film “Nosferatu.” This modern reinvention of the 1922 film “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror” is being hailed for reviving the gothic horror genre and with a slate of underrated, though adored, actors the movie provides a uniquely contemporary interpretation with thematic shifts representative of current politics. Nonetheless, Eggers’ direction respects its inspiration with silent film cinematography practices and a return to the spirit of the period’s feminist depictions.  

The original “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror” (1922) by Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau spoke to Germany’s decline post World War I, comparing the devastation of war to the bubonic plague, and the threat of rising antisemitism in the nation. This film’s main protagonist, Thomas Hutter, travels to Transylvania to see the mysterious, and possibly vampiric, Count Orlok. The Count requests to buy a dilapidated mansion in Hutter’s town and begins tormenting the overtired man in the night. Eventually, Hutter flees and Count Orlok travels with his coffin to the new house. Once there, plague and death engulf the town as Hutter’s wife, Ellen, discovers Count Orlok can be killed by a pure of heart woman who lures the vampire into the dawn with her beauty. She willingly sacrifices herself and saves the town before falling into the arms of her husband with her last breath.  

Eggers’ version is the same plot as the original, but takes liberties to direct focus toward sexual and mental abuse. Therefore, the film is less a reflection of geo-politics, as is its inspiration, but a deeply relevant look at body politics. Ellen is undoubtedly the protagonist of this film and great attention is given to her emotional attachment to Count Orlok as he has abused her in visions since youth. In many ways, her mental and physical reactions, which cause her to become erratically “possessed,” are an allegory for rape and sexual trauma. As happens to many survivors of abuse, her behavior is lauded as inappropriate by close friends and she is disbelieved until her husband, a male of authority, professes the abusers impact on himself. This narrative was far more pertinent during the film’s creation than that of post-war reconstruction or xenophobia. Eggers’ development began in 2015 and continued until filming in 2023. Thus, his creative process overlapped with major developments in mental health research and women’s rights movements such as #MeToo in 2017. 

Importantly, the film is not lacking because of integral remodeling of themes compared to the original. In fact, many “reboots” of the modern era feel so useless because of an unwillingness to adapt messaging to be uniquely engaging for current audiences. However, “Nosferatu” does not take the wheel and try to build a car with it. Eggers respects the simplicity of “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror” and does not attempt to embellish his story with cash grab actors and aesthetics. Instead Eggers enlists Lily Rose Depp, Nicholas Hoult, Emma Corrin and Aaron Taylor Johnson as burgeoning or fading stars working to ignite their careers as high-level professionals. As such, their performances appear to value authenticity and immersion into the gothic setting. 

Overall, Egger’s “Nosferatu” is a powerful reconstruction of Murnau’s original 1922 work. Its reimagined thematics and classic aesthetics remind me of “Pandora’s Box,” “Paranorman” and “The Crucible” as emotionally gothic tales of recognizing the societal stigmas on mental health and sexuality. The work is a testament to respecting an original form while breathing modern life into its narrative.