Nosferatu, fantôme de la nuit

With Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht, Werner Herzog replies firmly "by making it your own". Undertaking not only his first genre film in a career rich enough already by 1979 to earn Herzog a place among the most prolific German directors, but also a film with so much baggage, historical, stylistic or otherwise. Not only a retelling essentially of Bram Stocker's Dracula story but also a reimagining an expressionist universe defined by Herzog's cinematic forefathers (FW Murnau a key figure among them). In that aspect, Noferatu is one of the loftier, most ambitious and trickiest films Herzog tackled in a career already filled with them.

Anyone who comes to this with a previous experience of Herzog's style will realize that the German infant terrible has made the material unmistakeably his. Like most of his films, Noferatu is like a film about a dream about a documentary depicting weird people doing weird things - yet, beneath the minimalism of the plot and the docu-style naturalism of his photography, the movie resonates with the kind of hypnotic power Coppola missed in the alchemical migraine of his '92 version. Filming a medieval German town swept by plague like a grotesque carnival complete with people dancing with goats on tables and having a feast in the middle of a swarm of mice, Herzog goes on to choreograph a heavily made-up Klaus Kinski (looking like a rodent and playing a theatric version of his real half-mad self) through the steps Max Schreck's character took on the deck of the ship in the original movie as though he wants to prove that he can make it look every bit as creepy as Murnau did.

Perhaps reflecting the original in this department, Herzog's Nosferatu is still a pretty uneven film. Parts of it work better than others. When Kinski makes a grand appearance seething malice and despair, the screen is on fire. Grand antics work really well for this kind of character and this kind of movie. Bruno Ganz and Isabelle Adjani have enough charisma to carry the rest of the movie but the story structure occasionally betrays them. When Herzog cuts to Renfield's parts, you can feel the movie loosing steam with every gleeful cackle. When he cuts back to some kind of devilment going on, or even better the surreal stylizations of a bat flying in slow-motion set to Popol Vuh's repetitive drones, the movie comes closer to hitting the right emotional notes. When it achieves that kind of hypnotic, nightmarish vibe, the movie is great; when it doesn't, it's not bad.

And lastly, even though I understand Herzog's dislike for formalism, is there any particular reason why 90% of the movie is shot from eye-level? Makes one wish for the extreme skewed angles of Japanese New Wave directors.

It's taken me awhile to feel like I "get" Werner Herzog movies, I often find myself arguing with myself during his stuff. Half the time is, what a pretentious hack God when will this s**t be over, the other half is my God that's beautiful, he really is a mad genius...and by the end I usually don't know what to think.

I've never watched a movie by Herzog where the plot really amounted to much, the scenarios are set up, and they follow their natural courses, but it's the moments along the way, the journey itself, and not the prize at the end, that makes his film's worth watching.

Herzog makes images, often of people being surrounded and enveloped by nature and the world around them, but images I can safely say I'd never seen before anywhere.

Whether photographing a beach, a horde of plague rats, or a man wandering through mountains, there's a photorealism and dreaminess to everything that goes hand in hand, and that it's that kind of paradox that seems at the heart of Herzog, if it sounds like too much or not enough, just get out now.

Nosferatu is the Dracula story most people are familiar with, no Romance here though, just craven greed and lust. But the directors skills transform it into something else...However I would be lying if I said I knew what, because it's not really the point, were given the images and the framework of the story and either we find something beautiful or true or we don't.

I paused this movie quite a few times just to look at it, and that's the best endorsement I can give to this, and a lot of the Herzog stuff that I end up liking(Aguire:The Wrath Of God, Heart Of Glass, Even Dwarfs Started Small, Strosvek, etc). Beautiful, unique, and challenging, but not for everyone.

I would like to heap strong praise on the cinematographer in his ability to make a color film that looks almost black and white. These muted colors and use of dull blues and lots of grays REALLY enhance the film and give it a beautiful moodiness and creepiness. This is by far the best aspect of the movie.

As for the acting and writing, I was less enthusiastic. In addition to the stark lighting and cinematography, the acting itself was VERY stark and way too subdued. The moody scenery was good--the moodiness of the acting was NOT. While the movie should not have been high energy, at times it felt like it had almost none and tended to bore me from time to time. With a SMALL does of adrenaline, it would have been a lot better. The slowness of the film just seemed too much and the film would have improved by just speeding up the filming, as there are just too many long and deliberate scenes. Some see this as artistry--I see it as just too over-indulgent.

Although very dated, I still think the original is the better movie of the two. Unlike NOSFERATU (1979), it was unique and not just some come lately remake. And, and many ways, the original silent version is more haunting and terrifying.

I saw this as part of a double feature with Aguirre: The Wrath of God. Needless to say, it wasn't an evening of giggles. This is a film from beginning to end about pestilence. There is the actual plague. There are characters who are walking demonstrations of pestilence. There is the sad, defeated, Count who, as we all know, is not happy with his condition, but is programmed to steep himself in blood. The characters of Kinski and Adjani are on a collision course. Only through human sacrifice and lust can this demon be destroyed. It's a gray, striking film, full of sadness and despair. Kinski is visually stunning as the vampire. He is remindful of count Orlock in the Murnau film. There is more sensuality in this film (there are less limitations). Still, like its predecessor, the star of the show is death and the scenes with the rats and the people dancing away their last days, the coffins carried through the streets, are as striking as any performance. Herzog brings out the weight of human despair.

In Wismar, Germany, Lucy (Isabelle Adjani) and the real state agent Jonathan Harker (Bruno Ganz) is a happily married couple. Jonathan's boss Renfield (Roland Topor) sends him to Transylvania to sell an old house in Wismar to Count Dracula (Klaus Kinski). Jonathan is advised by the locals of a village to return since the count is a vampire, but he does not give up of his intent.

Jonathan visits Count Dracula and when he sees the photograph of Lucy, he immediately buys the real estate. He drinks the blood of Jonathan and navigates to Wismar, carrying coffins with the soil of his land, rats and plague in the ship. Along the voyage, Count Dracula kills the crew-members and a ghost vessel arrives in Wismar. Meanwhile Jonathan rides to his homeland to save Lucy from the vampire.

"Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht" is a wonderful and atmospheric remake of F. W. Murnau's classic film based on Bram Stoker's novel (but uncredited). Herzog has also changed the ending of the novel and uses wonderful cinematography supported by magnificent performances in his version. Klaus Kinski is one of the scariest Dracula of cinema history. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Nosferatu - O Vampiro da Noite" ("Nosferatu – The Vampire of the Night")