Nosferatu - Il vampiro

In 1921, director F.W. Murnau set out to make a horror film based on Bram Stoker's novel, `Dracula,' but was denied the rights to the property by Stoker's estate. Undeterred, however, Murnau merely changed the title to `Nosferatu,' the name of the title character to `Count Orlok,' then proceeded to make what has come to be considered nothing less than a classic of the silent film era. An unsettling film (especially for the times in which it was made), it is a faithful adaptation of Stoker's story, and brings images to the screen, the likes of which at the time, had never before been seen. And although by today's standards much of it may seem relatively tame, there is an innate sense of the sinister about it that is timeless. For the same elements that so unnerved audiences in 1922 when it was released, are equally discomfiting now, most of which is courtesy of Max Schreck, who portrayed Count Orlok. It was the first screen appearance for what is now the most famous vampire in history, and the German character actor Schreck brought an eerie presence to the role that has never been equaled. Bela Lugosi may be considered the definitive Dracula-- his portrayal is certainly the most well known-- but even he could not match the sense of evil that Schreck brought to the character. The scene in which Schreck's shadow is cast on the wall as he slowly negotiates a staircase, emphasizing his misshapen head and elongated fingers and nails, is an image that leaves an indelible impression on the memory, as does Schreck's overall appearance: Lanky, though slightly stooped, with oversized, pointed ears and haunted, sunken eyes. It was Schreck's greatest screen role, and had it not been for a lawsuit by Stoker's estate that prevented wide distribution of the film, it would no doubt have made him a star. The supporting cast includes John gottowt, Alexander Granach, Wolfgang Heinz, Max Nemetz, Gustav von Wangenheim, Ruth Landshoff and Greta Schroder. An air of mystery surrounded the set during the filming of `Nosferatu' that became something of a myth, which began with the fact that Schreck, a method actor, was never seen by cast nor crew without his makeup and in character. And it was further perpetuated when it may have been implied by Murnau that Schreck was actually a vampire playing an actor playing a vampire, all of which goes a long way toward proving that `hype' is nothing new to the entertainment industry. One of the three most highly regarded German directors of the times, Murnau, whose philosophy was that `nothing existed beyond the frame,' directed a number of films, but none achieved the lasting notoriety of `Nosferatu.' For film buffs everywhere, as well as aficionados of silent pictures, this film is a must-see, and a perfect companion piece to the recently released (2000) `Shadow of the Vampire,' the film by E. Elias Merhige that chronicles the making of `Nosferatu.' A comparatively short film-- the restored DVD version runs 81 minutes, the video, 63 minutes-- it will nevertheless provide an entertaining and memorable cinematic experience. This is an example of not only the magic, but the magic at the very core of the movies. I rate this one 10/10.

F.W. Murnau set the bar high for vampire movies, very high. Can not help but start praising the job Max Schreck and Murnau did to bring Count Orlok character to life on the screen. Orlok's face, hands and slender build along with his sly shuffling movements with the right camera angles and props brought a hell of a lot of general creepiness. The viewers in the twenties must have been shell shocked because they didn't tame it down which they most often did in this time period. For a full length silent feature film I found the time going fairly fast with a view dragged out scenes, that can be expected. The big bugaboo I have with Nosferatu though is the questionable ending being terribly anticlimactic. Regardless of the disappointing ending, Nosferatu is a killer film that is a must watch for horror or classic movie fans.

Quite possibly my own very favourite movie. No vampire film before or since has been either as disturbing or as artful. Less overtly "expressionistic" than some of the other German films of the day, but no less visually impressive. Look at the seascape where Ellen/Nina/Mina pines over her departed husband. Watch those marvelous shadows, which we see in Bremen more often than the vampire itself, used especially effectively in the closing sequence.

And look at Max Schreck himself! While Bram Stoker gave his Count affinity with wolves and bats, Murnau favours that rat, both in that they surround him and that he physically resembles a shaved, cadaverous rat. Spreading his pestilence, Max Schreck is truly the vilest, most loathsome villain in the history of film. The scene where he rises suddenly erect from his coffin aboard ship is one that horror directors everywhere should study very carefully.

Nosferatu is also noteworthy as the origin of the idea that vampires are killed by sunlight, previously present neither in literature nor folklore. In response to the poster who complained that the vampire seems to be walking around in light before his death, these scenes are set at night. In the original versions, there was a blue tint over these scenes to let you tell night from day; it's difficult to tell the difference without them.

My copy is marred with some hilarious inappropriate sound effects (such as a massive "BOING" when the gates of the castle open on their own accord) which I've learned not to hold against the film itself.

Thank God that Florence Stoker did not manage to completely wipe this film of the face of existence.

For copyright reasons, Bram Stoker's novel was filmed with the names of the characters changed (Orlok for Dracula, for example) but otherwise the story remains the same: a young man goes on a trip to see a mysterious count in order to sell a house, leaving his bride behind, and finds that the creature he meets is not of this world.

As the extremely creepy Orlok, Max Schreck is brilliant, with his long fingernails and gaunt appearance. A triumph in early cinematic make-up. Gustav von Wangenheim portrays the confusion of the victim well, as does Greta Schroder as his wife. FW Murnau directed the film with flair, showing us not only shadowed vistas and abandoned castles, but the nature outside (foxes) and miniature worlds evolving under a microscope. This film sits well with his later 'Sunrise' in showing the effect of outside forces on a young couple, as well as being one of the key early horrors in its portrayal of Stoker's anti-hero.

This version of the Dracula tale remains one of the best, although all have some different perspective on the novel. On the strength of 'Nosferatu' alone, Murnau deserves his place as a true innovator of silent cinema.

I despise most vampire stories. Not even Florence Stoker's dear departed husband could keep me occupied after the first act in Transylvania in "Dracula". The vampire has been so romanticized as an archetype (particularly during the '90s) that I can't but feel that most horror fans have forgotten exactly what made us afraid of these guys to begin with. Murnau's "Nosferatu" is just such a reminder and, because of that, is the only screen version of "Dracula" that I have ever loved.

Though Murnau, in the hopes of dodging the copyright bullet, took many liberties with the novel, he actually shot a great part of the film on location (an unusual practice for the time) in the historical Dracula's old stomping grounds: the Carpathian Mountains in Romania. The town, landscapes, and castles were all for real, not just some fancy studio backdrop. To me, it helps convey the tone of authenticity, as you can believe this story being told. As for Max Schreck, no charming, suave seducer is he. With his bald head, bushy eyebrows, rat-like teeth, pointed ears, nails as long as the fingers they are attached to, emaciated build, and stare that seems to come from the bottom of Hell itself, he is the primal, archetypal image of the vampire of legend.

While some could interpret this tale as a subtext to Nazism or anti-Semetism, at it's core, it's simply the tale of a monster, who brings ruin and death in his wake. That such a tale has managed to survive it's era, considering the obstacles that could have totally removed it from view, is the gain of all who have seen. Eat your heart out, Bela Lugosi.