Review-Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror (1922)

Nosferatu. Does this word not sound like the midnight call of the Bird of Death? Do not utter it, or the images of life will fade – into pale shadows and ghostly dreams will rise from your heart and feed your Blood –opening title card from Nosferatu

I remember the first time I saw F.W. Murnau’s expressionist masterpiece Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror.  I was a twenty-year-old college kid and, at the time, there was an enormous amount of hype around the Twilight films. Personally, I was not interested in participating. Halloween was approaching so I want to find a horror film that will get me into the All Hallows Eve spirit. Netflix had Nosferatu available and I decided to give this classic a try. I turned off the lights, made some popcorn and press play on the Netflix. After one viewing, I was in awe. Nosferatu is one of the first silent films I’ve ever seen that’s left me speechless.

Nosferatu also introduced me to German Expressionism and the work of F. W. Murnau. The film is not scary by any means, especially by today’s standards. Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror, an adaptation of Bram Stoker’s “Dracula”, is a poetic haunting piece on the vampire tale.

The story takes place in Wisborg where Thomas Hutter (Gustav von Wangenheim) is asked by his employer Knock (Alexander Granach) to go to Transylvania so he could sell a mysterious Count Orlok (Max Schreck) a new home. Hutter leaves his wife, Ellen (Greta Schroder), in the company of friends while he makes his journey. On his way to Orlok’s castle, he is continuously warned about Orlok which he ignores, including any information about the vampire legend. During dinner with the count, Hutter cuts his finger and quickly discovers Orlok’s deadly secret-a vampire who sucks the blood of others and carries his coffin filled dirt from the Black Death. Meanwhile, Ellen is experiencing bizarre phenomena back at home. Hutter realizes he must go back to Wisborg to protect his wife before Orlok, who decides to travel to Wisborg by sea, gets to her.

Max Shreck’s unsettling, marvelous performance as the vampire Count Orlok had an effect on me.  At the time, I thought to myself why can all vampire films be like this today? Since Bela Lugosi starring as Dracula in the 1931 film, we’ve become used to seeing a sexier, suave, and less monstrous portrayal of the vampire from actors like Christopher Lee as Dracula, and even Tom Cruise as Lestat from Interview with A Vampire. Orlok is different than our modern take on the mythical creature.  His features resemble a rat’s face with sunken cheeks, protruding eyes, and fangs. His hands look like razor-sharp claws. Whenever he walked, he was stiff as if his ability to become a creature of the night was more of a curse. He’s unlike any “Dracula” we have ever seen.

While Schreck’s Orlok doesn’t exude the sexiness of Bela Lugosi or Christopher Lee, there is still a sexual undertone in Nosferatu that I couldn’t ignore. Eroticism is all about sexual pleasure and a consensual share of power. Here, there is no pleasure. Orlok’s only about displaying his power over others. When Hutter accidentally cuts his finger (making a bloody mess at that) Orlok advance towards him, which could be translated as homoerotic. Hutter blatantly refuses to stay with Orlok when he asks him to stay up till sunrise with him.  He is still overcome by Orlok’s shadow and he’s left with two mosquito bite marks. Orlok’s pursuit completely takes a 180, showing a more of a bisexual nature when Hutter clumsily shows the count a photo of Ellen (Greta Schroder). Orlok moves forward with his plans to move to Wisborg just get a taste of her blood. His desire for Ellen is primal. Sexually, he’s repressed but that all changes in the film’s final act.

Ellen is another interesting character, whose actions serve more of an importance than Hutter’s in my opinion. She’s elegant, soft, and sensitive. Maybe too sensitive? When we meet her at the beginning of the film, Hutter surprises her with flowers. She shows her very emotional side by practically mourning over their death. Her response could be seen as laughable but I saw her as a woman who was deeply sympathetic. While Nosferatu doesn’t go into spiritual manners (God and Christianity are completely taken out of this adaptation), I think she and her husband are a good example of masculine and feminine energy.

Hutter is childlike, even naive. He is always up for an adventure from the start of the film. More importantly, Hutter is a man of reason. His real-estate agent employer Knock tells him about selling a nearby property to Orlok, Hutter is startled initially but agrees to go see the Count at “the land of Phantoms and Thieves” because the deal was possibly lucrative. When Hutter goes to stay at an inn, he throws the copy of the book of vampires to the floor without a care. The idea of a vampire seems highly unlikely in Hutter’s eyes until Orlok completely shatters his reality. Ellen is fluid. She goes by what she feels. When her husband tells her about going to see Orlok the immediate reaction is to worry. At first, her fragility could be seen as a weakness because she is vulnerable.

One of my favorite moments of the film when Orlock tries to attack Hutter again. While at the same time, Ellen wakes up screaming Hutter’s name, walking on the edge of balconies. Just as the vampire finishes with Hutter, the film cuts back to Ellen feeling exhausted. There’s this brief moment when Ellen calls for Hutter and it cuts back to Nosferatu turning around. It’s as if he hears her and walks away because of her interruption. The title card or the narrator of this tale says Ellen “hears the call of the death bird”. and she does! But how? Do Ellen and Nosferatu share a connection? Or is it Ellen’s intuition? Maybe it’s a bit of both.

You can say Schroder’s character is overreacting or overly-sensitive or emotional. She’s all vulnerability. This is her biggest strength. Ellen’s ability to feel on a deeper level is not a weakness at all. We see this at end of the film she uses her sensitivity (and her blood), in spite of all her fears, to lure Nosferatu to save the town.

Then there’s Knock, who is strange from the get-go. He’s short with wild white hair and a cheesy grin. We learn from the title cards that the townspeople don’t know much about him except he knows how to make a lot of money. However, his ability to read Orlok’s occult looking letter is bizarre. It makes you question their relationship from the beginning up until Knock calls Orlok “master” later in the film.

Though death is one of the major themes, there are two more that stood out to me. One of them is time. For Orlok, time is of the essence. Murnau’s use of fast speed motion during Hutter’s final ride to the Orlok’s castle and the scene when Orlok is packing his coffin for his trip to Wisborg. They both show Orlok’s urgency is potent just like his animalistic desire for blood. Ironically, the count, seemingly a man trapped within this vampire curse over an unknown number of centuries, loses track of time when he feasts upon Ellen until the sun goes up.

Another theme is a disease. A form of horror that can corrupt both man and nature. Orlok’s presence goes past hiding in the shadows. We learn early on he sleeps in, and carries, his coffin filled with dirt from 14th century’s The Black Death. Because of this, Orlok spreads disease land and sea. When he’s aboard the Empusa, he also leaves a trail of rats as he kills the ship’s crew. He brings his curse to the city of Wisborg where the townspeople fall prey to the plague. They unleash all their blame on the mentally deranged and Orlok’s devotee, Knock.

The film’s full title is Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror. The word “symphony”  tells me that there is more to this story than Orlok biting peoples’ neck. Sound, text, and images help bring this frightening atmospheric work to life.

Nosferatu is highly praised for its visual style and as a standout masterwork from the German Expressionist period. F. W. Murnau’s film is slightly different from other expressionists movies like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, where the sets were built with jagged edges. Murnau’s scenes are shot on location. Most of the scenes are heavily moody thanks to his ability to capture lights and shadows. They all blend together to give this movie an almost realistic, supernatural quality. The shot of Orlok going up the stairs to meet Ellen in the film’s final act is one of the most iconic shots of the movie. We only see his silhouette moving. The shadow of the tall, hunchback, rat-like vampire makes us all feel death is inches away, just as Ellen knew her fate was behind her bedroom door.

Murnau uses shots of nature as a way of foreshadowing danger as well as symbolism. When Hutter makes the journey through the Carpathian mountains, the director makes us feel their majestic presence. The camera pans across the shadowy crevices. While it is a beautiful shot, it sets the stage for an eerie tale to unfold. During his stay at an inn, the townspeople shudder at the sound of Orlok’s name. The inn’s patron says “the werewolf is roaming the forest.” Then, director interjects images a hyena on the hunt as breeds of horses scatter away. It doesn’t stop Hutter from continuing his trip. It does, however, tells the audience what kind of person Orlok is before we even meet him.

Murnau continues to interject more foreboding nature images between the action. Shots of the ghost ship Empusa sailing through the sea. Crashes of waves on the shore of a cemetery as Ellen awaits her husband’s return. He includes scenes of Professor Bulwer (John Gottowt) comparing venus fly traps to a vampire. The details are minor. Yet, they all play the part of Murnau’s cinematic symphony.

F.W. Murnau had to rewrite multiple pages of Henrik Galeen’s screenplay, including the ending. Galeen was a screenwriter who worked on director Paul Wegener’s The Golem and The Student of Prague. Since the production company, Prana Films, couldn’t get the film rights from Bram Stoker’s widow, Galeen took several liberties when writing the script. He made changes to the characters’ names. He also changed the setting, removed the Van Helsing character, and added the ship scene. Galeen was also was influenced by dark romanticism and is responsible for much of the expressionist style of the movie. As much as I love Murnau for his directing, I find the script just as poetic as Murnau’s film work. You may or may not be into poetry, but reading the title cards in this film felt like I was reading words from Edgar Allan Poe.

Another aspect of this movie I need to talk about is the music, originally composed by Hans Erdmann. The music may vary depending which version you watch. I rewatched the Kino version and the orchestral rendition of Erdmann’s score hits every scene perfectly. From the moment the film presents the opening credits, the music sucks you in (no pun intended). It’s dramatic and scary where it needs to be. When Orlok is about to strike, the music adds to the level of intensity of Schreck’s performance. It’s not all doom and gloom. There are lighter moments at the beginning of the film when the music genuinely made me feel like those were happier times.

If you never saw this film, I highly recommend you spend an evening this October to check it out. Even if you are unfamiliar with German Expressionism. Let this movie be your first lesson on the film movement and an intro to F.W. Murnau’s work. Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror is one of the finest examples of cinema to lay the groundwork for the horror genre today.