It’s an incredibly daunting task, taking on a Nosferatu adaption in 2024. Murnau’s original 1922 unauthorized adaption of Dracula remains a technical and emotional masterpiece that every subsequent vampire film has been measured against and most simply don’t compare to. Like the best of the films that followed it, Egger’s Nosferatu is faithful in the ways that matter. It’s absolutely stunning and stylistically distinct. It’s horrifying and romantic and has a cloying, sinister eroticism that pushes off the screen and slithers through your stomach throughout. But also like the best vampire films, it offers a unique and personal lens through which to view it and it’s this perspective that impresses me the most. 

I’m certainly not the first lost girl who felt compulsively drawn to any and all vampire stories, but my obsession always felt deeply personal. Which is probably why it’s such a universal affliction. Well also Twilight. But in my experience these stories came at a time when I was desperate for an avenue to explore some of my most shameful desires and darkest existential terrors and I think that’s true for many. I love every version of Nosferatu and a great many vampire films. I have compulsively sought them out and devoured as many as I could throughout my life but this is the first that brought me to tears. 

This film is Ellen’s and Lily-Rose Depp portrays her with such wild vulnerability and unflinching bravery. It’s not exaggerating to call it a career defining performance and it is a huge reason why the film is so compelling. Ellen is a woman defined by shame. It is her terrible secret, her horrifying desire, that threatens everything dear to her and yet her fears are disregarded and belittled at every turn. Like the VVitch, Nosferatu is a deeply feminist film that is at times painful in its horrific relatability. Ellen is a woman who needed love and that was used to hurt her. Ellen is a woman who was failed and dismissed by those around her. Ellen is a woman who sees her true self as too hideous to love. Ellen feels like such a genuine portrayal of womanhood it is at times hard to look at. And yet, as much as she is the victim, she is also the heroine and this film so completely gets that. 

I was so moved by this film and despite the fact that I’ve already written a book here, I fear I still haven’t been able to capture what it means to me. It’s not just that the film is exquisite to look at - it is - it’s not just that it’s a wildly effective horror film - though it is - it’s not even that the costumes alone are worth the price of ission - they are. It’s that this film evokes a truth so inherent to womanhood it feels uncomfortable. I’m writing this right now, sitting in the theater for the LA premiere. It will be my third viewing of the film and I’m brimming with anticipation. This film is an absolute masterpiece and I will relish every chance I get to experience it.