Shadow of the Vampire

This movie is a true relief for everyone who thought the genre of horror and mystery was dead and buried. It feels good to see that it's still possible to create movies like this. Even though the plot is rather simple, the movie seems to be very original and innovating. The basic idea behind this movie is so simple that it is - in fact - brilliant and it makes me wonder why nobody has thought about this earlier. The movie is completely based on the very early horror milestone "Nosferatu, ein symphony des grauens". Legendary actor Max Schrek is portrayed here like a REAL vampire who regularly takes a bite out of his crew. Director F.W. Murnau knows about this but finishing his movie is a higher priority to him than to sacrifice a few people.

This theme makes it of course a must for the ancient horror fans. Lots of footage and trivia of the 1922 masterpiece are shown and that's a real extra value for true cinema buffs ! But of course, this movie reaches far above average thanks to the brilliant performances. A totally disguised Willem Dafoe is absolutely amazing in his role of Max Shreck. It's like looking at the real Schrek...the resemblance is terrific. His appearance (especially the long nails) give you the creeps whenever he's on screen and his voice haunts your head every time he says something. Dafoe never gives away a bad performance but this one is extraordinary. And of course,the same can be said about John Malkovich...his portrayal of director F.W. Murnau is extremely realistic and believable. He plays Murnau as the man who slowly goes insane because he tries to be too perfect. An amazing performance !!

There aren't many shock effects to detect in this movie but that's rather normal, right ? After all, it's more like a costume-drama than it is horror. The lack of exiting scenes is made up by the constant presence of tension and an extremely appropriate atmosphere. Also, a perfect image of Eastern Europe in the 1920's is presented to the audience. All these aspects make a much better movie then just some ordinary slashing and slicing throats. A must see !!

First off, this is a much better movie if you have seen Murnau's expressionist masterpiece, "Nosferatu". There are a number of scenes from this movie that draw on "Nosferatu", and it makes a lot of the scenes more enjoyable. The movie is done in very much an expressionist vein it itself, the kind of film F.W. Murnau would certainly have appreciated.

The concept here is incredibly intriguing - what if a horror movie was a horror to film? Once the film kicks into gear, it establishes a rather creepy mood, especially in the sets, most of which mirror those of "Nosferatu" (the writer's bed, for instance, looks exactly like Hutter's).

As the film progresses, the actors take over the film, and it's interesting to see how they stack up to their precursors from 70 years ago. Eddie Izzard is an interesting Hutter (the Jonathan Harker analog), as (pretend) silent acting is well-tailored to his overbearing antics. Udo Kier is quite good as reserved producer Albin Grau. Alas, Cary Elwes, one of Hollywood's most underappreciated actors, is typecast as a kind of roguish, free-spirited Fritz Wagner, a real cinematographer (and the main one throughout all of "Nosferatu") and one of the stalwarts of German cinema into the 50's.

Malkovich is ideal for this role. He does a good job of being a manic, desparate for everything on his film to go right. His Murnau is a control-freak, a guy who keeps his crew in the dark, and adds to the generally creepiness.

The most curious thing about Murnau's "Nosferatu" is the vampire himself. The rest of the characters are pretty direct analogs of "Dracula". But instead of a suave, cool vampire of the Christopher Lee/Gary Oldman mold (later roles, of course), Murnau's vampire was a stiff, cold, violent monster. Willem Dafoe is absolutely brilliant in portraying this. He has some moments of comedic relief, bickering harmlessly with Malkovich, and generally being a fish out of water. Soon, however, his character becomes undeniably creepy, and Dafoe does a great job of making Count Orlok seem like the kind of guy who makes your skin crawl. In some way, this Orlok is less of a monster - he's portrayed a bit more sympathetically, sorrowing in his loneliness and never getting to see light. Murnau's vampire was almost always shot from below, making him appear huge and menacing; Dafoe's Orlok isn't monstrous so much as he just makes your skin crawl.

I do have a couple beefs, though, mainly technical. On a purely nitpicky level, Murnau is mentioned as a comtemporary of Griffith and Eisenstein, despite the fact that Eisenstein didn't make a movie until two years after "Nosferatu". On a less petty level, the characters seem a bit dumb. They have no problem accepting the fact that Orlok is an actual vampire once Malkovich tells them, but can't seem to figure it out on their own, despite seeing, among other things, Orlok pulling a bat out of the air and sucking the blood out of it.

The film, in general, does not end well. The penultimate scene is horribly contrived, a lot of silly reminiscing to to advance the plot a little. The ending itself isn't necessarily bad, just a bit ambigous. You don't come away with a clear sense of who (if anyone) was wronged amongst the main characters, and we leave a couple of them in limbo. A couple of technical details are odd, too. Murnau's Nosferatu has a shadow and a reflection, but this one only a shadow. Also, in the final scene they are supposedly filming, there's a wooden stake that's nowhere to be found in "Nosferatu".

A quick note, by the way - while the movie they are filming actually exists, rest assured the story is pure fantasy. Max Schreck went on to make more movies, as did the rest of the actors in this film, and no actors were bitten during the filming of the original movie.

A thououghly enjoyable film, especially if you're familiar with the subject matter.

Every once in a while, a movie comes along that completely and maybe consciously defies categorization, and "Shadow of the Vampire" is a great example. It is at once a black comedy, a horror movie with a unique setting, and a biting sendup of the art and business of moviemaking. And the fact is that it wears each of these hats quite well, although not necessarily at the same time.

The movie asks us to imagine: What if Max Schreck, the mysterious guy who gave what is still considered one of the best vampire performances ever, did so well because, well, he really was a vampire? The skulking creature, we are to imagine, was finagled into performing in "Nosferatu" for legendary cinema pioneer F.W. Murnau. The story then follows as the crew makes the movie dealing with all sorts of difficulties, not the least of which is the star's habit of snacking on cameramen.

Among the film's many virtues is its portrayal of filmmaking in what was really its dawn as a form of art and commerce. People like me, who have trouble with silent movies may gain an additional appreciation for the work and craft that went in to them, and realize that while they may seem hokey and stylized to us now, they had a beauty and substance that was all their own, and still is.

John Malkovich turns in a great performance as the visionary Murnau (who, while tortured, must be a genius because he always gets it in one take). It is a characteristic Malkovich role, a rationalist given to bouts of fury, and it is as much fun to see him discourse pretentiously on the science and art of the moving image as it is to see him pitch a fit ("Albon, a NATIVE has wandered into my FRAME!").

The core of this movie, however, and deservedly so, is Willem Dafoe's unforgettable portrayal of Schreck. This is not your slick-talking Anne-Rice undead-Vogue kinda vampire. Schreck is the next thing up from a rat, squatting in filth and clicking his claws, and Dafoe is able to inspire laughter as well as fear, and even pathos. He makes us imagine what a rotten existence it must be, to have eternal life alone in a rotting ruin and a withered body. He and Malkovich have some great scenes together, including a sick, hilarious moment when Schreck and Murnau try to hammer out who on the crew may or may not be snacked upon (the cinematographer is necessary, it seems, but the script girl is negotiable).

The movie functions best as a sendup of moviemaking, as the harried Murnau must deal with temperamental actors, unfriendly locals, blood-sucking undead, and other hazards of the movie trade. At one point, Murnau must leave to calm the investors, a scene I really wish had been included. Some of the best moments are those of the age-old creature of the night attempting to take direction and find his "motivation." Everyone is afraid of Schreck, but admire the dedication that keeps him in character all the time (he's a Method actor, explains Murnau, he studied with Stanislavsky). The movie makes its point rather neatly, that filmmakers, and by extension filmmaking itself, have a way of sucking the life and blood out of you. Anyone who has ever had to shoot a movie on location will attest to this.

If I have a complaint about the movie, it is only that after its extreme cleverness, it settles for a somewhat straightforward horror-style denouement. Myself, I would have thought the vampire would end up moving to Berlin and getting an agent, a swimming pool, and a meeting with Ovitz. Still, the movie clearly makes its point: an auteur driven by a mania for artistic perfection can be more of a monster than something that just lives in a cave and drinks blood from your neck.

Back in 1924, the silent movie Nosferatu was released. At the time (as now) it was the definitive expression of the timeless story of Count Dracula. There have been, of course, endless renditions of the 1896 Bram Stoker tale; however, Nosferatu was unique in that the medium of cinema was extremely new in 1924, and the maker had to deal with prejudices against this newfangled form of entertainment, which had to compete with the written word. Now, of course, a new Dracula film need not compete with the original story; it only needs to compete with earlier versions on film. This movie explains the story of how Nosferatu was produced. The director, F. W. Murnau (John Malkovich), is filming his masterpiece in Germany (the widow of the story's author refused to sign the rights to the story, so they couldn't film in Transylvania or use any of the names in the book). His choice to play the part of the vampire Nosferatu is Max Schreck (Willem Dafoe), a beastly, hideous man who will appear to the cast and crew only in character (an early example of Method acting, to be sure). Shreck will not travel or bunk with the company; he will live only in the cave dwelling that the film's protagonist, Count Orlac, calls his home. With a leading man that eccentric, it's no wonder trouble appears on the set. People get sick, others appear listless and not quite into their work. Still, the tenacious Murnau pushes on. He must get his shot! His film must be completed! And as it progresses, he slips a little further into his own world, and Schrek - who, it has been said, played perhaps the ugliest vampire in film history - assumes more and more control over the direction of the movie (although not literally). Dafoe is unrecognizable in makeup, but the sinister creepiness he brings to most of his roles is evident here. It's an accomplished actor who can play a part in full makeup and still make the role distinguishable from... well, from some chump in a lot of makeup. Dafoe's excellent here, and his interplay with Malkovich is galvanizing. Their scenes together are like an actor's class on How To Emote and Project. There are times when each actor appears to ham it up slightly (or, in the case of Malkovich, more than slightly), but the two of them together constitute a casting coup. This is a wonderful little film, yet another that didn't quite get the acclaim it deserved. The atmosphere is both rich and compelling, both essential qualities for a film that's all about vampires from long ago. This is not a movie that's high on special effects, either; don't expect to see a lot of flash and fancy. It's also a homage to silent movies and to old-time horror films in general. It's a minimalist film in terms of set itself, but much is done with so little.

Shadow of the takes the viewer to 1921 to "witness" the making of F. W. Murnau's silent classic vampire film Nosferatu. Shadow of the Vampire does not pretend to be a documentary; it is a highly stylized, fictional work that delves into its very own imaginative speculations about a filmmaker's creative process.

Having assembled his crew, Murnau (John Malkovich) travels to a small town in Czechoslovakia, where he intends to recreate before his camera the story of Bram Stoker's "Dracula". Set on creating the most realistic vampire film, Murnau secretly recruits a real vampire (Willem Dafoe), promising to recompense the creature with leading lady Greta (Catherine McCormack). Murnau cautiously introduces the vampire to his producer Albin Grau (Udo Kier) and scriptwriter Henrick Galeen (John Gillet) as "Max Schreck", a truly professional "method actor" trained by Stanislavsky. Schreck performs his scenes suspiciously well, only appearing on the set at night and in character, keeping his end of the bargain with the director. Soon, however, his blood thirst takes over and he fearlessly threatens to eliminate, one by one, Murnau's most dispensable crew members.

Shadow of the Vampire stems from the premise that its protagonist, the fictional Murnau (Malkovich), must hire a real vampire in order to ensure a truly authentic representation of the vampire character, "Count Orlock", for his film Nosferatu. The viewer who seeks a more accurate portrayal of the making of the real Nosferatu may find this premise strained and far-fetched, and may even consider the film's ensuing humor a bit aimless. However, Shadow of the Vampire integrates the humorous premise to its metaphorical exploration of the artistic process and of the inevitable struggle between the star, the director and the crew. (In one scene, Schreck tries to secure his interests --a new victim-- by negotiating with Murnau. He reflects: "I don't think we need the writer any longer.") Aside from the film's complex treatment of the film within the film and of the character within the character (where Shadow of the Vampire re-presents Nosferatu, and Shadow's cast plays Nosferatu's cast), the film's most enjoyable aspect is its careful reconstruction of specific Nosferatu scenes. When demonstrating how Murnau shoots these well-known scenes, Shadow's own shots shift between black & white and color; from a full-frame to one enclosed by an iris. Shadow's recreation of the classic scenes are often accompanied by Murnau's off-screen voice-over instructions to the actors, who in turn stop in mid-shot, enter, or exit the frame. These choices offer a fantastic depiction of silent film technique, and they as well add new life and a sort of magical dimension to the original Nosferatu scenes. Undoubtedly, Shadow of the Vampire may be most fully appreciated by the viewer that has already developed a sensitive appreciation for Nosferatu's unforgettable images. Still, Shadow of the Vampire may be enjoyed as well by those fascinated by filmmaking or --as Shadow's Murnau put it-- by "the science of the creation of memory."