If anyone should be making movies about vampires, it’s Robert Eggers. With films such as “The Lighthouse” and “The Witch” under his belt, it’s clear to see why: Eggers’ dedication to recreating the past, coupled with his ability to tell a story that worms its way under your skin and haunts you for weeks to come, is what the vampire genre desperately needed for the centennial of “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror.”

When leaving the theater Christmas day after watching “Nosferatu” (2024), I heard a lot of the same comments: “I liked it, I just didn’t really get it.” Even the friends I watched it with shared similar sentiments. These remarks are understandable; many casual watchers didn’t even know “Nosferatu” (2024) was a remake, let alone know enough about the original to understand the symbolism and references that made it such a masterpiece to me.

So, for those whose knowledge of Nosferatu peaks at that one Spongebob episode, I’ll provide some background information: directed by F.W. Murnau, “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror” is a German silent film released in 1922. Contrary to popular belief, “Nosferatu” (1922) was not the first ever vampire film, but it certainly was the vampire film; it’s surely the only vampire film I know that’s been sued by the Bram Stoker estate for plagiarism.

Despite being a blatant rip-off of Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel “Dracula”, the German silent film is as important to the genre as Bram Stoker himself. Without it, vampires would have never reached mainstream audiences or even been allergic to sunlight (fun fact: Bram Stoker’s Dracula is only weakened by sunlight, Murnau was the one to invent that trend). Yet, the significance of “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror” only begins when considering its impact on the horror genre. 

Murnau’s purpose for the film was to be a political statement on the post-war society he lived in. He designed the character of Count Orlock to be a physical manifestation of the death and disease Germany suffered post-WWI. Even more horrifying is the glimpse of what was to come: Count Orlock’s large ears and bushy eyebrows would soon reappear in antisemitic propaganda, warning German citizens of the foreign evils ‘bringing destruction to Germany.’

A century later, Eggers’ adaption follows the same basic storyline as its predecessor: Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult), a real estate agent, is tasked with traveling to the Carpathian Mountains in Transylvania to close a property deal with the eccentric and reclusive Count Orlock (Bill Skarsgard). Despite her pleas, he leaves his newlywed bride, Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp), behind in Germany. 

After arriving at Orlock’s castle, Thomas signs what he believes to be the final papers needed to complete the property sale, but in reality is a document voiding their marriage and surrendering Ellen to the Count. After discovering Count Orlock’s true vampiric identity, Thomas flees back to Germany to save Ellen. Orlock, however, has already begun his journey to Germany, sailing on a ship full of plague-carrying rats that go on to spread disease to Germany. 

After a series of events, Ellen realizes the only way to put an end to the Count’s terror is to sacrifice herself. Ellen gives herself to the vampire, distracting him with her blood until the sun rises and kills Orlock. 

“Nosferatu” (2024) is not a complete and total retelling, however. Unique to Eggers’ version, Ellen’s connection to the vampire is more of a sick companionship than a haunting. Ellen, in a bout of desperation and loneliness, summons the demonic entity to comfort her and unknowingly pledges herself to him. After meeting Thomas, Ellen ends her supernatural companionship with Orlock, angering him and triggering the events of the film. 

Beneath the film’s incredible cinematography and direction is an echo of American politics: Thomas Hutter embarks on his journey to have more money for the future with his new wife, someone works an 80-hour week just to put food on the table. Rats bring the plague to Germany from overseas, COVID-19 and anti-Asian hate speech infect America. Ellen and Count Orlock’s relationship can even be seen as a symbol of the loneliness many suffered during the pandemic. 

Many have also regarded this film as Eggers’ statement on patriarchal society; Ellen feels immense pressure to suppress her supernatural abilities in order to remain ‘acceptable’ to those around her. Ellen’s repressed desires, a product of the strict restraints pushed on her by society, are what cause the toxic relationship between her and Orlock to form. 

Eggers not only maintains the ‘political statement-ness’ of the original but also manages to pay homage to the many vampire films that have come after. He includes elements that have become inseparable from the vampire genre, such as themes of female sexuality, shown in the overtly erotic relationships Ellen shares between Count Orlock and Thomas, and homoeroticism, found in the affectionate ‘friendship’ Ellen shares with Anna. 

All in all, Robert Eggers’ “Nosferatu” is nothing short of phenomenal. The gorgeous cinematography coupled with the Oscar-worthy performances make this film absolutely worth the watch, but the intricate symbolism and attention to detail make this film worth at least three more watches.