Tuesday, October 11, 2022

Vampire Flicks: Nosferatu the Vampyre (Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht) (1979)

Initially, I would've bet money that I first learned of this remake of Nosferatu from AMC's documentary, Bride of Monster Mania, hosted by Elvira and which I saw when I was thirteen. But, after finding those documentaries on YouTube and watching them for the first time in many years, I've realized it was actually the first Monster Mania documentary, hosted by Jack Palance, which I saw the year before Bride. In any case, as I said in my review of the original, I knew of it from a fairly young age, having read about it in a book on Dracula I found at Monteagle's public library, but I had no clue there was a sound, color remake until I saw Monster Mania in 1999, where it was featured after the 1979 Dracula movie with Frank Langella was discussed. It showed the remade version of the shot of Dracula moving about the ship while at sea, Lucy reading the book on vampires, and the climactic scene where Dracula feeds on her, only for the morning sun to vanquish him. That was all I ever saw of it for many years, aside from stills here and there, but I did learn more and more about it from various sources, most notably from Robert Englund, who said that Klaus Kinski's physicality inspired a lot of the body language in his performance as Freddy Krueger. But it wasn't until after I learned who Werner Herzog was and realized he directed this that I began to understand this was a film held in very high regard, both among horror fans, some of whom consider it to be superior to the silent film, and mainstream critics, particularly Roger Ebert, who counted it among his collection of Great Movies. It's akin to John Carpenter's The Thing and David Cronenberg's The Fly in that it's a remake which has become a classic in its own right. I must confess, though, that I didn't watch it for the first time until I decided to review it as part of this year's October Fest. Streaming it proved to be no problem at all, as it was free to watch on YouTube (and still was at the time I wrote this), and while the version there happened to be the English one, when I got the Scream Factory Blu-Ray a few months later, I was able to see the German one (which is the same movie, except for the language). 

So, what was my verdict? This movie is... pretty good. Seriously, as a sound remake of a legendary silent horror film, you can't do much better than this. In fact, this film actually does improve upon some of the original's more problematic aspects, such as giving many of the supporting characters more substance, as well as making the third act much more interesting and effective. Also, the acting is good all-around, especially from Kinski, the direction and cinematography are superlative, as you'd expect from Herzog, and the film has its own atmosphere that more than measures up to the eerie vibe of the original. Honestly, my only negative with the movie is that's about 85 to 90% the same movie that F.W. Murnau made. It's not a scene-for-scene remake, a la Gus Van Sant's Psycho (though there are a number of shots and moments from the original which are recreated almost exactly), but rather, acts more like a massive expansion on the characters and the story, akin to how Peter Jackson's King Kong relates to the 1933 original. This was likely Herzog's intention, as he loves the original Nosferatu about as much as Jackson does King Kong, calling it the greatest movie ever made in Germany. Still, the story is virtually the same, save for the use of the original character names from Bram Stoker's Dracula, and up until the third act, it plays out in almost exactly the same way. So, as much as I can appreciate Herzog's enthusiasm for the original, his filmmaking, and the improvements he did make, I do wish he'd done a bit more to differentiate his film from the original.

I first learned of Werner Herzog in 2006, when I saw the mockumentary, Incident at Loch Ness, which he produced, wrote, and starred in. I went into that because of my personal interest in the legend of the Loch Ness Monster but what I got was an interesting, multi-layered exploration of what creates a myth and how unreliable and tricky film can be. I found Herzog himself to be especially intriguing, with his soft, German accent, his intelligent, philosophical, and almost florid way of speaking, and, according to the movie's opening, the really crazy, extreme lengths and locations he went to in order to make some of his past movies, like Aguirre, the Wrath of God and especially Fitzcarraldo. Incident at Loch Ness also provided me with the first hint of his volatile relationship with Klaus Kinski, as it made mention of and showed clips from My Best Fiend, which I have since seen, along with Grizzly Man, both of which I quite liked. Though Herzog hasn't become one of my absolute favorite directors (Nosferatu is, at this point, his only fictional movie I've seen), and I've found some of his methods to be a bit... questionable at best and immoral, shall we say, at worst, I do find the guy fascinating and can't help but admire his intelligence, how nothing stops him from making the movie he wants to make, and how he has never, ever compromised.

This movie was the first time I ever heard Klaus Kinski's name or seen an image of him, albeit in his extensive makeup; however, it would be many years before I learned of how insane and psychotic he was, both in his performances and his offscreen personality. What's shocking, then, is that his performance here as Count Dracula is probably the most subdued he ever gave in his life (apparently the result of Herzog whipping him up into one of his characteristic frenzies and filming once he was exhausted from it). In his first appearance, when Jonathan Harker arrives at his castle, he quietly invites him in and tells him to make himself at home, showing him to the dinner table and giving him some food. In fact, he seems more interested in Harker himself than he does the business of closing the deal of the property in Wismar, as he dismisses his initial attempt to have him look at the papers and insists he eat his dinner, watching him intently as he does. When he hears the sound of wolves howling, he, as per usual, calls them the children of the night and that they're making music; he also notes how Harker seems disturbed by the sound and comments, "Ah, young man, you are like the villagers who cannot place themselves in the soul of a hunter." Shortly after this, Dracula's strange but polite and welcoming veneer is disturbed when Harker accidentally cuts himself and his thumb bleeds. Saying the old, rusty knife could give him blood poisoning, Dracula offers an ancient remedy, which is to suck the blood from him. Harker attempts to brush it off, saying the cut isn't worth the trouble, but Dracula's bloodlust is too much for him to control and he forcibly bites into his hand. As Harker backs away, Dracula menacingly comes at him, forcing him back into a chair in front of the fireplace in the next room, and then sits across from him, suggesting they sit and talk for a while. Naturally, at some point before dawn, Dracula fed upon Harker for the first time. The next night, he sees a picture of Harker's wife, Lucy, in a small locket and, enchanted by her, notes what a lovely throat she has. Also knowing that they will be neighbors, as the house he's offered is near Harker's, he immediately signs the contract, saying he will accept what ever price Harker feels is just. After feeding on Harker again that night, Dracula makes his way to Wismar, and Lucy, the following evening.

While I don't find him to be as creepy as Max Schreck was in the original Nosferatu, there's no denying that Kinski's performance is an inspired one. Like with Schreck, it's often a very physical one, with the way he holds himself, often standing completely straight and with his hands either kept crossed up around his chest or, when he's walking and stalking someone, stiffly down his sides, cupped downwards. When he menaces someone, be it Harker, the captain of the ship, or Lucy, he
creepily thrusts his neck out, always has his hands held in a gripping, talon-like manner, and often breathes rapidly, as though he's struggling to keep himself from going hog-wild on his prey. Besides his physicality, what also helps is the way he's often lit very darkly, which, when combined with his black costume and hideously pale skin, sometimes makes it seem as though his head and hands are disembodied and floating. Though not as iconic as in the original, Dracula's silhouette and shadow are put to very good use to make him come
off as especially otherworldly. One good example is the shot of him walking down the dark hallway towards Harker's room, where he's a total black silhouette until he gets right up to the camera and enters the room. His shadow gets some particularly nice moments when he arrives in Wismar, as you see it trailing across the sides of houses, and there's an especially scary moment where Lucy sees the door to her room open behind her in the mirror, followed by Dracula's shadow entering and closing the door before he appears next to her.

The biggest difference between Kinski's Dracula and the original Count Orlok is that, while the latter was just a disgusting, ravenous monster who caused an outbreak of the plague along with his vampirism, there's some sympathy and pathos to be found. Like the Frank Langella Dracula, and even Love At First Bite, both released the same year, this film goes into what a cursed, lonely existence being a vampire truly is. Before he sees the portrait of Lucy, Dracula gives Harker a melancholic
speech to that effect: "I don't attach importance to sunshine anymore, or to glittering fountains, which youth is so fond of. I love the darkness and the shadows. Where I can be alone with my thoughts. I am the descendant of an old family. Time is an abyss, profound as a thousand nights. Centuries come and go. To be unable to grow old is terrible. Death is not the worst. There are things more horrible than death. Can you imagine enduring centuries, experiencing, each day, the same futile
things?" It paints a portrait of a profoundly miserable creature who doesn't want to go on living and yet, can't die. As such, he was probably genuinely happy to have some company when Harker came to his home and didn't want to harm him, but his thirst for blood made him unable to resist when Harker cut himself. When Dracula sees Lucy's portrait, he becomes taken with her beauty and desperate for her affection. When he appears to her in Wismar, he tells her of his inability to die and the suffering it causes him, adding that he
wishes he could have the kind of love that exists between her and Harker. He promises salvation for both Harker, who has returned to Lucy but is badly ill and suffering from amnesia, and himself if she will come to him, but she refuses him and drives him away with her crucifix. This lack of love, coupled with his eternal and loneliness, is likely what drives Dracula to commit the horrible acts he does. In addition to spreading the plague and wiping out entire families in Wismar and other areas, after Lucy rejects him, Dracula kills Mina,
while her husband is hospitalized, seemingly out of revenge. Ultimately, just like in the original, Lucy reads that a woman who's pure of heart can keep a vampire from avoiding the rising sun by sacrificing herself to him and thus, decides to do so herself. She succeeds and Dracula, after he finishes feeding on her, recoils from the sight of the sun, with an anguished expression that suggests that, while he's finally going to die like he wanted, he's also hurt that she tricked him like this. All in all, I normally don't care for Dracula being portrayed in an overly sympathetic light, but here, it was done well enough without diluting his effectiveness as a villain.

Sympathetic or not, though, like Count Orlok, Dracula is, in this film, a spreader of the plague, bringing with him coffins filled with thousands of rats that, when he arrives in Wismar, flood the town and cause much sickness and death, as also happens in both Transylvania and the port city of Varna. In the original film, Orlok's exact connection to the plague was a bit ambiguous, as it was suggested the sickness and fever various people, including Hutter (the Jonathan Harker
character there), were being afflicted with were actually the effects of their being directly attacked by the vampire. However, at the same time, the notion that vampires rested in areas filled with soil cursed by the Black Death, as well as Orlok's unmistakable rat-like appearance, suggested he was literally the plague incarnate and those rats were another manifestation of his evil. In this film, Dracula, who is also said to dwell in the same cursed soil and has a rat-like appearance (Renfield even calls him "the Master of the Rats"), is shown

to be actively and intentionally spreading the plague, both through the coffins filled with the rats, which he places throughout Wismar (including in a church, just out of pure spite), and his bites, as Harker becomes ill after being fed upon and the crew of the ship either became sick and died, with the captain being found dead with the tell-tale bite marks on his neck, or disappeared completely.

While the original Nosferatu introduced the concept of a vampire being destroyed by sunlight into the mainstream, it contained none of the other familiar vampire tropes that have become part of popular culture over the years; here, while he doesn't dwell upon them to the point where it feels derivative or cliche, Werner Herzog puts in many more examples of traditional vampire mythology, while also adding his own spin to some of them. While you never see it, it's stated in Harker's book
on vampires that Dracula could become a bat, as well as a wolf, and bats themselves do figure in the story, albeit as either omens of evil Lucy often sees or set dressing for Castle Dracula. Dracula also has no reflection, with only his shadow appearing in mirrors, and like Count Orlok, he's said to be able to pass through walls. However, unlike Orlok, his bites can turn others into vampires, as ultimately happens to Harker after a long bout of him apparently being infected with the plague. A very notable trope that was absent from the original
is the notion that Dracula is repelled by holy objects, as he recoils from a crucifix twice, while the Transylvanian innkeeper's wife douses Harker with holy water and puts a crucifix around his neck. And while sunlight does ultimately kill Dracula, instead of vanishing or disintegrating, he simply drops dead, with Dr. Van Helsing then staking him for good measure (although, that was never mentioned in the book).

Again, while I don't think he's as creepy, Klaus Kinski's well-designed makeup and costume do succeed in making him appear very similar to Max Schreck in the original. He doesn't have the wide-eyed, monstrous expression that made Schreck so scary (which we all know Kinski himself was more than capable of), likely because they were going for sympathy in this Dracula, but he does still look quite repulsive, with his hideously pale skin, bald head, rat-like incisors, large, pointy ears, and those

nasty-looking, long fingernails. Also, when he dies at the end, his eyes become milky and opaque. As extensive as the makeup is, you can still make out Kinski's face, and when combined with his often heavy breathing and low, soft voice, it helps all the more in making him an effective villain. What's most amazing to me personally is that, even though Kinski, as per usual, was temperamental and difficult during filming, he got along well with the makeup artist, Reiko Kruk, and never once gave him any trouble. He said he tolerated the makeup process because he realized it was necessary for the character (I guess he didn't feel the same way nine years later, when he appeared in Nosferatu in Venice, but we'll get to that train-wreck soon enough, i.e. tomorrow).

Strangely, as in the Frank Langella Dracula, the character here who would normally be Mina Harker is instead Lucy (Isabelle Adjani), while the name of Mina is given to a very minor supporting character who doesn't even really figure in the story. (Since both movies came out the same year, it's doubtful Werner Herzog could've seen the Langella Dracula and been inspired by it, thus making it an interesting coincidence.) Like Ellen in the original Nosferatu, Lucy is very devoted to her husband but also tends to worry about him, as seen when she fusses over his tendency to quickly scarf down his breakfast and hurry off to work. She's especially concerned when he returns home and announces he has to leave for Transylvania, saying she has a bad feeling that he'll be in danger. This feeling is certainly compounded by how she's already had a frightening nightmare/premonition involving a bat, after which a real one got into her and Harker's bedroom through the window, much to her horror. Though Harker doesn't take her fears very seriously, Lucy is able to, at the very least, get him to accompany her to their favorite beach and hear her out when she tells him about this deep, nameless terror she keeps feeling. In the end, she is left in the company of friends, where she continues to have her frightening visions during the night, as well as wander the beach in despair over not hearing from her husband. At the moment Dracula corners Harker in his room and feeds on him for the second time, Lucy is found walking in her sleep outside. Upon being brought back in, Dr. Van Helsing is called as she writhes around in bed and then screams her husband's name, appearing to sense what's happening, while Dracula seems to sense her horror. After this, Lucy grows continuously despondent as days pass without any word from Harker. She's assured that it's simply hard to get mail across the Carpathian Mountains but says she knows something has happened to him. She's even lost faith in God and his ability to help, as when Mina tries to assure her that their prayers will be heard, she says, "God is so far from us in the hour of distress." She's about ready to go after Harker herself, but when she visits Renfield after he's been committed to an asylum, he tells her to stay for a bit, adding, "The master comes."

Shortly after Dracula arrives in Wismark, which Lucy appears to sense, Harker is brought home, seriously ill and having lost all memory of her, a revelation that causes her to faint. Regardless, she's determined to nurse him back to health, when she's visited by Dracula in her home. Having read through Harker's diary, she knows who he is and accuses him of ruining her husband. Though Dracula tells her that Harker won't die, she doesn't believe him at all, saying, "Death is overwhelming.
Eventually, we're all earth. Stars spin and reel in confusion. Time passes in blindness. Rivers flow without knowing their course. Only death is clearly sure." She also tells him that he will never, ever feel the same kind of love she feels for Harker, as not even God can touch that, adding, "And it will not change. Even if Jonathan never recognizes me again." She completely rejects his demand that she come to him, saying, "Salvation comes from ourselves alone. And you may rest assured that
even the unthinkable will not deter me." She then drives him away with her crucifix, bidding him good night as he leaves. The plague then begins to take hold in the town, and after reading the book on vampires Harker brought back with him, Lucy attempts to warn the authorities of what's really going on. However, she finds the town council has been disbanded and the mayor has died from the disease. What's more, no one else, including Van Helsing, will listen to her. She tries to convince him of Dracula's existence and that they can
destroy him if they find his coffins but, much to her frustration, he thinks she's simply delusional due to everything that's happened with Harker. She then decides to take matters into her own hands and tries to find the coffins herself, searching the old, rundown house Dracula bought from her husband. She finds it totally infested with rats and does come upon one of the coffins, but when she then sees the complete shambles Wismark has become, and learns that Dracula killed Mina in the night, she decides the only way to end the horror is to

sacrifice herself in order to keep Dracula out until the sun comes up. Interestingly, when he comes to her, she seems to be both scared and yet, at the same time, anticipating his biting her. When he does bite her, she gasps and breathes heavily, as if it is giving her sexual pleasure. There's a moment where he stops feeding and attempts to stand up, as though he's about to leave, but she puts puts her hands on his shoulders and pulls him back in. Ostensibly, she does this to keep him from escaping the dawn but it also seems as though she wants more. He resumes feeding and, though she dies, she succeeds in killing him. But, in a cruel twist of fate, it's revealed she was unsuccessful in keeping him from spreading his curse elsewhere.

Normally, I find the character of Jonathan Harker to be one of the more bland and thankless roles in the story of Dracula (Hutter, the original Nosferatu's version of the character, definitely fell into that trap), but here, Bruno Ganz is able to do something with him. As per usual, Harker is a real estate agent and is portrayed as being devoted to both his wife and his job, to the point where he often eats and runs in order to make it to his office on time. When Renfield tasks him with journeying to Transylvania and finalizing the property purchase with Count Dracula, Harker, despite what a long and arduous trip it would be, eagerly takes it, as he wishes to buy a better house for Lucy, as opposed to the nice but small one they currently live in. He also doesn't hesitate when Renfield tells him he must leave immediately, saying he would like to get out of Wismar and temporarily escape the banality of living there. But as excited as he is at the prospect of the journey, he doesn't completely wave away Lucy's feelings of dread. As expected, he thinks Lucy is just being a worrywart and that her premonitions and visions are just nightmares, but unlike Hutter, he's not completely flippant about it, either. When she asks him to, at least, spend some time with her at their favorite spot by the sea before he goes, he affectionately embraces her, saying, "Sometimes, I'm so blind," and the two of them are then shown walking along the beach. He does listen to her when she talks about the nameless fear she senses and tries to comfort her, before leaving her with friends and setting out. Arriving at the small inn near Castle Dracula, Harker, of course, is met with fear and apprehension when he says he must go to the castle, and is warned of the evil that lurks there and roams the countryside at night. He's also given a book on vampires by the innkeeper's wife but dismisses it all as superstition and, the next day, intends to continue on. The local coachman, however, refuses to take him on to Borgo Pass, denying that there's even a road, forcing Harker to walk. He arrives at the castle after nightfall, with Dracula's own coach picking him up and bringing him the rest of the way (this is one version where the coachman is not actually Dracula himself).

After meeting Count Dracula, who bids him inside and offers him a meal, Harker is obviously rather creeped by both the man himself and the eerie atmosphere of the castle and surrounding countryside. This is what causes him to accidentally cut his thumb while slicing some bread, and when Dracula insists on sucking the blood, then bites into his hand, Harker is quite frightened as he's backed into the next room, made to sit across from Dracula, and keep him company
until sunrise. He awakens the next day to find himself seemingly alone in the eerie, creaking castle, and explores it, though finds no signs of life. He does hear the screeching violin played by a young boy, but is unable to find the boy himself, and also notices some bite marks on his throat. Because there's no postal service, Harker opts to keep a diary for Lucy to later read. He writes about having had a "bad dream" the night before and that the castle is so strange and unreal that it could be a
part of it. That night, he finalizes the property deal with Dracula, who eagerly purchases the old house near Harker's own after seeing a portrait of Lucy in a small locket he keeps with him. Later, when he's in his room, he reads further into the book on vampires, learning that they rest in areas filled with soil cursed by the Black Death. Dracula then completely removes any lingering doubt in Harker's mind that he is a vampire when he enters his room and feeds on him for a second time. The next day, Harker awakens once more to an empty
castle, as well as to find himself imprisoned on the grounds. While searching for a way out, he finds his way down into a tomb and discovers Dracula sleeping in a cracked, stone coffin, which sends him reeling back upstairs in terror. That night, he sees Dracula loading up a carriage with coffins and driving off with him inside one of them. Realizing he's going to Wismar and that Lucy is in danger, Harker attempts to escape the castle by fashioning a rope out of his room's bed-sheets and using them to climb out a window. However, it's not long
enough and he falls, badly injuring himself. Somewhere along the line afterward, he finds himself in a hospital, badly ill with fever and murmuring about the black coffins to those around him. In spite of this, Harker leaves as soon as he can in order to return to Wismar before Dracula gets there.

Ironically, not only does Harker fail on that score, but when he does return home, having been driven the last length of the way by a coachman, he's so ill that he's lost memory of Lucy, pushing her away and asking who she is when she embraces him. He spends much of the rest of the movie sitting in a corner, moaning and continuing to not recognize Lucy, at one point calling her Mother Superior and then asking how he knows her, much to her heartbreak. He also claims that sunlight is painful
to him and, in one brief but unsettling moment, when Lucy reads from the vampire book, he lets out a short, sinister laugh. At the end of the movie, when Lucy decides to sacrifice herself in order to kill Dracula, she tries to save Harker by putting a crucifix around his neck and placing the crumbs of holy wafers around his feet so the Count can't get at him. But, in the end, it's revealed he's succumbed to Dracula's curse and is now a vampire himself, with the same pale skin, rat-like teeth, and long, claw-like fingernails, with his voice even
becoming similar to Dracula's. Unable to stop Dr. Van Helsing from staking Dracula, as he can't move past the wafer crumbs, he instead has him arrested for "murdering" the Count. He then has the maid wipe away the crumbs and, ripping off the crucifix, he orders her to, "Seal the bedroom for the official investigation." The movie ends with him riding off on a horse, dressed in black like Dracula, as he says he has, "Much to do."

Though he's not as bizarre-looking as Knock in the original, Renfield (Roland Topor) makes up for it by coming off as a complete loon, laughing after almost every... single... line (to the point where it becomes annoying). Even in his first appearance, when he tells Jonathan Harker of Count Dracula's interest in Wismar property and sends him to close the deal, he lets out a giggly cackle after virtually every sentence, and sometimes in the middle of them. Even when he tells him the journey could cost him a lot of sweat and blood, he laughs, cackling especially loudly after the latter part, as well as when he describes Transylvania as, "A little gloomy, but very exciting." Like Knock, you don't know how Renfield came to be Dracula's servant but he's definitely delighted to hear from his master and likely suggests that Harker offer him the large house near his own because he knows Dracula will very much enjoy being close enough to Lucy to feed on her. At some point, during Harker's time in Transylvania, Renfield apparently goes raving mad and is institutionalized after biting a cow. He then takes on his traditional characteristics of eating insects, specifically flies, which he has an entire box of when Dr. Van Helsing is brought in to look at him, as he rants, "Blood is life!" A guard makes the mistake of taking the flies from him, leading to him getting jumped from behind, while two other guards pry Renfield off him and put him in a straight-jacket, all while he laughs and cackles maniacally. He then senses Dracula's approach, telling the guards and Van Helsing, "I hear the rustling of sails," and when he's visited by Lucy, who says she's about to travel to Transylvania herself to find her husband, he tells her, "Stay here. The master comes... The Master of the Rats. The army is angry, and 400,000 strong." He then laughs especially crazily, prompting them to send Lucy away, and while the one guard's back is turned, he snatches a newspaper from his pocket. In it, he reads about the plague spreading in Transylvania and Varna, cackling all the more. Once Dracula arrives in Wismar, Renfield manages to escape the asylum by tricking the guard and locking him in his cell. That night, he meets up with Dracula, whom he absolutely fawns over, much to the his irritation. Dracula sends him to Riga, adding that the rats and Black Death will go with him. Hearing this, Renfield cackles, "Thy will be done! Amen! Amen!", and runs off laughing, never to be seen again.

In an interesting subversion, Herzog puts Dr. Van Helsing (Walter Landengast) in the role that would normally be that of Dr. Seward. Instead of a scientist who's well-versed in the occult, this Van Helsing is merely a local doctor in Wismar who also acts as the director of the mental asylum where Renfield is placed. He first enters the movie when the couple looking after Lucy finds her sleepwalking outside their house and they call him in to examine her. He says she's developed a sudden fever but, in the end, doesn't believe it's all that serious. Later, when the ship drifts into Wismar's harbor with its gruesome cargo, Van Helsing is one of the doctors brought in to determine what happened and suggests they check the captain's log, giving them the clue that it could be the plague. He's also called in when the sickly, amnesiac Jonathan Harker returns to Wismar, diagnosing his condition as a severe fever of the brain. The most telling scene involving him, though, is when Lucy, after her encounter with Dracula and having read through the book on vampires, tries to warn Van Helsing of what's really behind the plague and Harker's illness. He tells her, "We live in a most enlightened era. Superstitions such as you mentioned have been refuted by science," and dismisses it all as a delusion caused by what's happened to her husband. He also staunchly refuses to aid her in searching the town for Dracula's coffins, saying, "This has got to be studied first, scientifically... Even the farmer knows, my child, that everything has a proper time and sequence. He doesn't dig up the wheat to make sure it is growing. Only children playing at being farmers do something like that." Lucy then realizes she's on her own in confronting Dracula, although she does see Van Helsing once more, when Mina is found dead and her husband has been taken to the hospital. Despite the ugly, bleeding bite marks on Mina's neck and the ghastly look of her skin, Van Helsing is merely relieved that it's not the work of the plague. He only learns that Lucy was right about Dracula being a vampire when it's too late to help her, when he finds the aftermath of Dracula's feeding on her and dying by sunlight. Now feeling guilty for having not believed her, Van Helsing attempts to ensure her sacrifice wasn't in vain and stakes Dracula for good measure. Unfortunately for him, the now vampiric Harker accuses him of murder and he's arrested, although doing so without any police or prison guards to watch him makes it difficult for the remaining authorities.

There was a Van Helsing-like character in the original Nosferatu who, despite his seemingly significant introduction, ultimately proved superfluous to the plot. Really, since this particular interpretation of Dracula has the female lead sacrificing herself in order to kill the vampire, there's no need for such a character at all, so it makes me wonder why, given how he's written, Herzog wouldn't just make this character Dr. Seward. In any case, there are few other characters

worth mentioning. While the Arthur Holmwood and Lucy Westenra counterparts in the original film didn't have much to them, here, as Mina (Martje Grohmann) and Schrader (Carsten Bodinus), they're hardly worth mentioning, as there's nothing to say about them, not even how Harker knows them. And yet, ironically, there's more of a conclusive end to their "role" in the story. Instead of Mina getting the plague and then, nothing more is ever said about it, here we know that Dracula killed her and Schrader, after finding her dead, was taken to the hospital, likely driven mad. Also, the captain (Jacques Dufilho) of the ship that brings Dracula to Wismar has almost nothing to him, as we don't spend as much time on the ship as in the original, but I can't help but kind of like his determination to get the cargo its final destination, to the point where he ties himself to the rudder to ensure the ship stays on course (which makes him easy prey for Dracula).

Even though it's a longer and slower-paced film, I feel that Werner Herzog tells the story of Nosferatu in a more effective manner, especially when we get into the second and third acts. As you may recall, I feel that, as good as the original is, it really starts to drag once Count Orlok begins his journey to Wisborg, as it feels like it takes an eternity and is interspersed with pointless and distracting scenes, such as an introduction for the ultimately superfluous character of Prof. Bulwer, Ellen growing concerned for her husband's safety, and
Knock's time in the asylum before he escapes, is blamed for the trouble in town, and is recaptured. Here, while Dracula's journey to Wismar also doesn't begin until around the halfway point, the whole thing feels more focused, with the scenes on the ship at sea intercut with the sickly Harker's trials and tribulations to get back home, just as I wished was the case in the original. Also, while we do get scenes with Renfield in the asylum, ranting and raving, and he does escape, it's not dwelt upon
to the point where it becomes distracting, and Renfield exits the movie in an effective manner which suggests he's carrying his master's curse farther north. And I can get more into Lucy's plight about her husband due to the drama of his returning home with no memory of her. Plus, her actually meeting and talking with Dracula after reading about him in Harker's diary adds greatly to her overall understanding of the evil that has befallen her home, her decision to destroy it herself, and her sacrifice.

If you know anything about Herzog and his work, then you go into one of his movies expecting it to look good, with great cinematography and superb production values, regardless of the budget, and that's exactly what you get with Nosferatu. Roger Ebert talked about how beautiful the film is in his Great Movies review and he wasn't kidding, as this is definitely one of the loveliest-looking vampire movies, as well as horror movies in general, ever made. Herzog doesn't go for an overtly stylized look but, rather, he and his frequent
cinematographer, Jorg Schmidt-Reitwein, bring out the natural beauty of the many locations they shoot in by photographing everything in a very lush, yet naturalistic, manner, where the color palette absolutely pops. The contrast between light and shadow is equally striking, yet very realistic, with the darkness looking virtually pitch black, sometimes with spots and highlights of dark blue, helping to accentuate Dracula's creepiness. Seriously, words can't do justice to how pleasing
this movie is to the eye, and when you add in the elegant interiors they filmed in (all of which were actual places rather than sets) and the nice costumes, it makes the movie feel much more expensive than its meager budget of just $1.4 million. And, again, Herzog never gets very fancy or showy with his camerawork, but there are notable moments where he'll hold on shots for long periods of time, allowing you to either soak everything in or watch as some action slowly plays
out, like when the ship transporting Dracula arrives in Wismar and the camera stays on a shot of the harbor as the ship slowly drifts in from the right side of the screen. Herzog also isn't afraid to shoot some big, wide shots from high above the subject of the scene, such as in the shots of the ship traveling through the sea or to show the scope of the plague's effect on Wismar.

Herzog does use some noticeable, cinematic flourishes here and there including the opening, which is a series of handheld shots and pans across some hideously mummified bodies. At first, they don't seem to have any relevance to the movie itself, as you don't know where they are exactly or how they relate to the story, but it becomes very clear when you learn these are the Mummies of Guanajuato in Mexico, who were victims of a cholera epidemic in 1833. Besides tying into the plague that plays a part in the plot, this opening,
coupled with Lucy's first vision involving a bat that then flies in through her open window, is an omen of the horror that's soon to befall everyone in Wismar. Speaking of repeated shot of a bat flying through the night in slow motion, Herzog took it from a nature documentary. He also makes use of a traditional, time lapse shot of the sky above Castle Dracula to show the passage of the first day where Harker finds himself alone there. And near the end of the movie, when Lucy sees just how devastated Wismar is, with people having given up and trying
to enjoy themselves before they die, all while surrounded by the rats, coffins, and discarded furniture, all sound and dialogue, save for the music, which is some mournful vocalizing, drops out for an extended period. However, despite this being an adaptation of Dracula, one thing Herzog does not do is tell the whole story through the writings of various characters, something even F.W. Murnau employed in the original Nosferatu, with the main narrative coming from an

anonymously-written journal on the story's events. Here, while there are moments where a character's thoughts can be heard as they write in journals and diaries, and the ship's log is read aloud in a meeting of the Wismar town council, Herzog instead opts to simply have the story play out as it happens.

At the beginning of the movie, Wismar (actually the city of Delft in the Netherlands) is depicted as a prosperous, bustling 19th century town full of people happily going about their daily lives, living in rather well-furnished, posh homes. Even the Harkers' house, despite its being a fairly small and enclosed, two-story building, comes off as very nice and lovely, which is to say nothing of Mina and Schrader's large home. The town itself is very picturesque, with many lovely canals running through it, as well as a beautiful beach nearby that's
one of the Harkers' favorite spots. However, there are places in the town that do act as something of a prelude to the horror and darkness that will eventually envelop it. One such place is the main office of the real estate agency Harker works for, the inside of which is rather gloomy, despite the large window out in front, especially the cluttered second floor, where Renfield is waiting for Harker when he first walks in. (While we're on the subject, when I see the one agent working downstairs in
front of an enormous set of shelves housing numerous papers and files, I can't help but think of Bob Cratchit working in Ebeneezer Scrooge's office.) Another, more overt example is the inside of the mental asylum where Renfield is kept after he seemingly goes mad. His solitary cell is especially uncomfortable, dark, claustrophobic, and dank, with only a small cot as furniture and a couple of small, barred windows. Even the beach, as lovely as it is, has a grim spot in the form of a small graveyard overlooking it from a hill, and when Lucy walks it by herself at one point, the foggy, overcast weather feels like it's hinting at what's coming her way.

During Harker's journey through Transylvania, you both see and feel how he leaves behind the real world and, the closer he gets to Castle Dracula, the more he enters an eerie twilight world. Those who work at the inn and the local gypsies attempt to warn him that the castle is an evil place, calling it and the surrounding area the Land of Phantoms, even going as far as to say that it doesn't really exist and that he will only find old ruins. During his journey on foot through Borgo Pass and up into the Carpathian Mountains the next day, he walks
through some narrow, craggy gorges and valleys, past flowing mountain streams, and climbs up alongside waterfalls. There's an equally beautiful and eerie moment near the end of his journey where he sits down and watches as the clouds pass over the mountaintops, drowning out the last rays of sunlight. Immediately after this is when Dracula's carriage picks Harker up and brings him the rest of the way, as if the sun going down enabled the Count's world to come into being. Sure

enough, while the castle does seem to be in ruins when you see it in wide shots, the coach delivers Harker to a building that, while certainly old, is intact and even habitable, despite its creepiness. However, Harker senses that something about this place just isn't right, as he writes in his journal for Lucy that it doesn't seem "real" to him. And besides Dracula himself, the only other inhabitant is this mysterious boy who constantly plays the violin but never says anything or interacts with Harker, even when he's right in front of him at one point. As you never find out who he is or what he's doing there, you could safely assume he's a ghost.

The section at Castle Dracula (both the outside and inside of Pernstejn Castle in the Czech Republic) is where the movie's atmosphere is at its strongest. After being driven through the castle gates, Harker meets Count Dracula at the main door and is beckoned inside. He's taken to the dining room, which is really just an enormous alcove with a big table sitting in it, lit by numerous candles decorating it, as well as scattered about the room. Dracula encourages him to help himself to the food he has prepared for him, and the scene is quite
eerie and uncomfortable, as Dracula stares at him, breathing heavily, while he eats, and you can hear the wind howling outside. You then hear the sound of wolves, as Dracula makes his traditional "Children of the Night" quote, while Harker is more and more creeped out by everything that's happening around him. And remember that really creepy clock in the original Nosferatu? Herzog outdoes it with a skull on top of it that opens to reveal a small skeleton hitting a chime, while the front has two small doors that open to reveal a
Grim Reaper-like figure that moves from one to the other, wielding a scythe. Plus, if you look closely, you can see a small bat hanging off the edge of the top of the clock. After seeing that, it's small wonder that Harker distractedly cuts his thumb with a knife, and when Dracula's bloodlust is awakened by this, he backs him into the room on the other side of the staircase behind them, which is a small, dark room with a fireplace in the back and a chair on either side of it. When Harker 
awakens the next day, he finds the fireplace is out and fresh food on the dining room table. Even though it's daytime, the castle still has an eerie vibe about it, as you can still hear the wind outside, and the place is constantly creaking and settling. He does some exploring of the seemingly empty castle, finding it to be just barely furnished here and there, with the second floor almost totally barren and bland, with its white-colored stone walls and long, dark corridors that are done in a
somewhat oval shape, similar to the doorways. Walking down the corridor to the left of the top of the stairs, Harker finds a pair of small, virtually empty rooms covered in cobwebs, and then comes to the room meant to be his, which is where his luggage was taken. This room is a little more inviting, with a furnished bed, actual furniture, and a mirror. Harker is also able to get onto the grounds, where he hears the boy playing the violin but is unable to find him.

Harker's second scene with Dracula takes place in a dark study of some sort, with a stuffed bird adorning the top of a table flanked by lit candles. Again, the atmosphere is palpable, with the wind and the howling wolves (who sound very tortured), as well as with Dracula's interest in Lucy when he sees her small portrait. Harker's retiring to his room afterward is no less unsettling, as there's a broken section of the window, allowing the sound of the wind and the wolves to waft in, leading to the creepy moment when Dracula comes to his room to
feed on him a second time. Awakening the next day, Harker finds he's being held prisoner, as every door is locked, and when he goes out onto the castle grounds, he finds a door that leads down into what proves to be the crypt where Dracula rests in a stone coffin. Dracula then makes his way to Wismar via the schooner ship and, while we don't spend nearly as much time on it as in the original, there is that sense of isolation with the crew being stuck out in the middle of the ocean, brought home

by the scene where the captain writes in his log in his dark quarters about the strange events that have been plaguing them since their trip began. And, of course, when he has no recourse left but to tie himself to the ship's wheel, he becomes easy prey for Dracula when he rises the night before they reach Wismar.

For Herzog, one of the major themes of the movie is the idea that the sense of order in a bourgeois, materialistic community like Wismar is a very fragile one, and this is proven once Dracula arrives with the plague. As soon as the ship wanders into the town's port and the townspeople and authorities come to investigate, you see a shot of a little girl amid the crowd sneezing, as if the plague is already beginning to spread. Later, during the town council meeting where the captain's body and log are examined, the officials panic and rush out the door
when the suggestion of the plague comes up. Though they're told to go home quietly so as not to scare the civilians, as well as to shut the doors and windows to keep the plague from spreading, we can see it's already too late, as the rats are swarming into the town from the ship and, that night, Dracula begins placing the black coffins throughout the town, including in a church. When Harker finally makes it home, his sick, pale, fevered condition likely mirrors what's happening
to others in town at the very moment as the plague begins to take hold, with more and more coffins being carried through the town streets, the town council being disbanded, and the mayor dying from the disease. By the time Lucy decides to take it upon herself to find Dracula's resting place and destroy him, the town has almost become as stricken as Transylvania, with Dracula roaming the town at night, leaving the ruins of his hiding place. Speaking of which, the old, rundown house that he calls home in Wismar makes Castle Dracula look like the Ritz, as it's completely dilapidated and absolutely crawling with rats.

While we're on the subject, the shots of those masses of crawling rats really make my stomach churn. I have a pretty strong constitution when it comes to animals like them, for the most part, but the sight of all those gray, nasty-looking, squeaking and screeching rats, often all clumped together, is really hard for me to look at. And, unfortunately, there are rumors that the rats weren't treated very well, that the conditions of their transportation from Hungary to the Netherlands were deplorable, to the point where they cannibalized each other,
and the procedure to dye some of them gray killed more of them. Given Herzog's reputation as the type of filmmaker who'd stop at absolutely nothing to get what he wanted, regardless of the discomfort it caused his crew members and actors, I could believe he wouldn't exactly be worried about the well-being of a bunch of rats. He may not have done anything as immoral and sadistic as Ruggero Deodato, but I still wouldn't put it past him to not be concerned about a bunch of animals.

When Lucy enters the town square the morning after finding Dracula's hiding place, the full extent of the plague's effect on Wismar is made clear. The town is now all but destroyed, with many of the buildings' windows boarded up, coffins, furniture, and random fires lining the street, animals like sheep and pigs wandering about freely, and, most disquieting of all, you see that the townspeople have given up. Those who aren't sitting around, completely defeated and despondent, are either dancing around in the street amidst the shambles
and death, forcing their children to do so, along with some of the animals (one guy is seen wrestling with a goat atop a table; God knows what his intentions are), or are actually having dinner outside, surrounded by all the rats. Lucy approaches one such family doing the latter and is told, "It's our last supper. We've all caught the plague. We must enjoy each day that's left." That's both kind of an inspiring sentiment and yet, a cripplingly sad notion about the point they and everyone else out in the streets have come to: they know they're all doomed, so they're just going to throw a big party and try to have fun before they die off.

These are the kinds of thoughts and images Herzog attempts to horrify and shock the viewer with, as opposed to a lot of gore, gruesome images (save for the mummified bodies during the opening), and big visual effects (which he likely couldn't have afforded anyway). Indeed, the film is not gory in the slightest, as the moments where Harker accidentally cuts himself, Dracula feeds on his victims, and the aftermaths have hardly any blood, save for some minute bite wounds and the pale, dead skin of the victims. The only instance where there's any real blood is at the end, when Dr. Van Helsing comes downstairs with the stake he just used on Dracula, which is covered in bright red blood, along with his hands.

The lack of onscreen violence is yet another thing this film has in common with the original, which also includes recreations of numerous shots and scenes, sometimes down to almost the exact detail. Examples are the scene between Harker and Lucy at the seaside; Harker leaving his anxious wife with some friends; the frightened reactions Harker gets when he proclaims at the inn that he must get to Castle Dracula that very night; Harker's dismissive attitude towards the idea of vampires when he's first given the book on them; the dinner scene
between him and Dracula, right down to his cutting himself, Dracula trying to suck his blood, and then backing him into another room so the two of them can "talk" for a while before sunrise; Dracula's infatuation with Lucy when he sees her portrait, right down to his commenting that she has a nice neck; Dracula entering Harker's room after he's finally read through the meat of the vampire book and menacing him, something Lucy senses miles away, causing her to sleepwalk outside and later call to Harker as others watch on; Harker finding
Dracula's tomb and opening his coffin; the high-angle shot of Dracula loading his coffins onto a coach and a later shot of them being rafted down a river; Dracula stalking the captain on the ship's deck; Dracula carrying one of his coffins throughout the town; and the entire climax, with Dracula looking out through the window of the rundown building he's in, him feeding on Lucy, and dying by the rising sun, with Klaus Kinski even copying some of Max Schreck's gestures. But,

while you should come to expect such homages in a remake, I feel like they're indicative of the film's one major flaw: Herzog sticks so close to the original that he makes his remake very predictable for someone who's seen it. He definitely adds his own personable flavor to it, especially in the third act, and there's still a lot to recommend it on its own merits, but at the same time, someone familiar with the original will be feeling deja vu throughout much of it.

The music score for Nosferatu is mostly the work of a West German group called Popol Vuh, who collaborated with Herzog on a number of his films of the 70's and 80's, including three of the others he did with Kinski: Aguirre, Fitzcarraldo, and Cobra Verde. The score, which consists of two tracks from the group's previous album, is often used very sparingly, but when it is played, it's very effective in creating mood and atmosphere, especially with the track called On the Way, which plays over the first part of the opening credits. It's this slow, constantly growing, vocalizing theme that becomes something of a leitmotif for Dracula, alluding to his presence long before we see him, as it plays during Harker's trek to his castle, and then alludes to his approaching evil, such as during the latter part of the ship's journey and when Dracula menaces the captain. By contrast, the music that plays during the establishment of the town of Wismar, as well as the Harkers' walk on the beach and the initial part of Harker's journey, is this very gentle, folksy tune that acts as the soundtrack to the nice, every day life that's about to be snuffed out by Dracula. Following his first encounter with Dracula, the following scene, where Harker roams about the seemingly empty castle, is set to a bizarre, high-pitched synthesizer piece of music from the band called Die Nacht der Himmel, which is almost matched by the phantom boy's screeching violin. Fittingly, this theme is used again later, when Lucy searches Dracula's home in Wismar, and when Dracula comes to feed on her, where it's accompanied by some bizarre, theramin-like sounds. The scene of Lucy sadly wandering the shore is set to a bit sadder, more melancholic-sounding and low-key piece, and there's a moment when Dracula wanders the streets of Wismar, right before his scene with Lucy, that's set to some low, eerie vocalizing, that accentuates the sadness of his character, which is about to be explored all the more. A similar piece is heard when Lucy comes across all the men carrying the coffins of the dead in the town square and tries to tell them of the cause of all the suffering. And a low-key, sad piece, akin to what was heard at the beginning when Wismar was first established, is hear when Lucy attempts to make Harker consecrated to protect him from Dracula.

The film's score is also made up of some other pieces of music, such as Richard Wagner's Das Rheingold Prelude, which you first hear during the moment in Harker's journey where he stops and watches the clouds come over the mountaintop, and also plays when Dracula is roaming about Wismar at night, giving it all a grand, operatic feeling. Tsintskaro, a Georgian folk song, performed by the Vocal Ensemble Gordela, is the very sad piece of music that plays when the extent of the plague's toll on Wismar becomes clear and also during the latter part of the sequence where Lucy sacrifices her, alluding to that very notion that she's given up her life to stop Dracula's reign of terror. And finally, Charles Gounod's Sanctus plays at the very end, when the now vampiric Jonathan Harker rides off on horseback to continue where Dracula left off.

It was at the behest of American distributor 20th Century Fox that two different language versions of the movie, one for German audiences and the other for English, were produced. It's long been assumed that each of the dialogue sequences were shot twice for the respective versions when, in reality, Herzog took a mix and match approach: some were shot in English and others in German, with dubbing then used for either version when necessary. While Herzog has said that, for him, the German version is the truer one, both are the exact same movie, with there being no real differences in the dialogue between the two, so you can watch the English version assured that nothing is being lost in translation. That said, I would implore you to check out the German version at least once so that you can say you've seen the version Herzog prefers you would.

Rather than as a remake, it might be wise to view Nosferatu the Vampyre as an expansion on the original, a movie which widens the scope, makes the characters richer, and adds much more depth and dimension to the story. Through it all, Werner Herzog's direction and visuals are absolutely stellar, the real locations are beautifully photographed, Klaus Kinski gives a subdued and effectively sympathetic portrayal of Count Dracula, acting through some well-designed makeup, many of the supporting characters have more to them than they did in the original, there are instances of atmosphere that measure up to the original's creepiness, the music score is well done and effective, and, best of all, Herzog manages to tell the story in a more enjoyable and focused manner than I feel F.W. Murnau did. All that said, however, Kinski, as good as he is, just isn't as iconic and frightening as Max Schreck, and while the film does go down its own path during the third act, in the end, it's still so much like the original, with many scenes and shots recreated almost exactly, that those who've seen it won't be all that surprised at what happens here. It's still definitely worth seeing for fans of the genre, and vampire fans in particular, but it might have been all the more effective if Herzog had made it much more unique.

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