******BLOOD-SUCKING SPOILERS!******

In 1974, at the tender age of around seven or eight, I was a real monster nerd. I remember having the Aurora model kits of the classic Universal Horror monsters, such as Frankenstein’s Monster, the Creature from the Black Lagoon (my favorite monster design) and the Wolf-Man (whom I spent much time in front of a mirror imitating). And, like other monster nerds of my generation, my favorite magazine was the late Forry Ackerman’s “Famous Monsters of Filmland.” I was never quite as enamored of Dracula, though I would later come to appreciate the Christopher Lee films from Hammer and Anne Rice‘s vampires, too.

Despite my lesser love for the Transylvanian bloodsucker, I still remember seeing an article in Famous Monsters of Filmland about a 1922 silent film called “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror,” which was a German-made silent movie ‘adaptation’ (i.e. shameless ripoff) of Bram Stoker’s 1897 classic horror novel, “Dracula,” made nine years before Bela Lugosi’s 1931 classic. Old, grainy stills from the barely-surviving film showed actor Max Schreck as “Count Orlok”; the character’s thin frame, knife-like fingers, pale, hairless head, rat-like fangs and wide-eyed death stare were pulled straight from my nightmares. It would be decades before I’d actually see the movie, yet it’d already scared the crap out of me.

In the 1920s, the late Bram Stoker’s estate sued German movie studio Prana-Film for unauthorized theft of its intellectual property. Director/cowriter Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau had simply changed the characters’ names when he couldn’t afford the rights. All prints of the film were ordered destroyed by the court, though many partial and near-intact prints survived. Over the next century, enough surviving prints were found and stitched back together to recover lost scenes, and a more or less complete version of the film would eventually be presented.

After the original 1922 film, there would be two other versions, including 1979’s “Nosferatu the Vampyre,” directed by Werner Herzog and starring the late Klaus Kinski (“Doctor Zhivago”), along with a 2024 version from American director Robert Eggers (“The Lighthouse,” “The Witch”) simply titled “Nosferatu,” which revives the immortal bloodsucker once more with a lavish, full-tilt cinematic experience starring Willem Dafoe (“The Last Temptation of Christ,” “To Live and Die in L.A” ), Nicholas Hoult (“X-Men: First Class,” “Mad Max Fury Road”) and Lily-Rose Depp (the up-and-coming daughter of Johnny Depp).

Throughout the three versions, the story essentials remain more or less the same:

“Nosferatu” Synopsis

The story is a one-for-one retelling of “Dracula,” as a young, ambitious realtor named Hutter (née: Harker) must leave his newlywed bride Ellen (née: Mina) for Transylvania, where he must present a deed to be signed by the mysterious and wealthy recluse, Count Orlok (née: Count Dracula), who seeks to purchase a lucrative property in Germany (née: England), not far from Hutter’s own home.

After becoming infatuated with Harker’s bride, the vampire Orlok keeps Hutter prisoner in his castle as he sets off in a protective coffin filled with his native soil for an ocean voyage to Germany (despite the fact there’s no ocean between the two countries). The evil Orlok arrives in Germany, after draining/killing the entire crew of the Empusa (née: Demeter).

Hutter manages to escape from Count Orlok’s castle, and he races home to find the Count has carried his epidemic of mysterious blood-draining death to Hutter’s village, which is mistaken by the locals as a natural plague. Meanwhile, a tormented Ellen is under the vampire’s psychic influence, as Hutter and an eccentric older doctor practiced in the occult team up to confront the bloodsucking monster that is literally draining the life from their village.

Eventually, the nocturnal Count is destroyed when he absently feasts upon his long-desired Ellen’s blood, as the sun rises brightly from a nearby window.

Note: This is the essential story and characters from each incarnation of “Nosferatu,” save for the 1979 remake, which changed the character names back to those originally used in Stoker’s “Dracula,” since the rights to the novel had fallen into public domain at that point.

“Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror” (1922)

Blatant theft of Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” notwithstanding, “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror” still carries considerable cinematic potency, despite its 103 years. The most recent and complete version to date (via the Kino Lorber restoration) runs at 94 minutes. It also restores the original color tinting used to indicate day and night in deluxe screenings. The camera work, while primitive today, used some innovative tricks, including fade-ins, stop-motion photography and dramatic use of shadow. Seen today, the crude cinematography only adds to the unearthly aura of the film. It’s like peering through a half-opaque portal into the past.

It’s not fair to gauge silent-era performances with those of later ‘talkies,’ since silent movie stars often had to pantomime their performances with great physical exaggeration, since their voices were muted. Out of context, the performances of Gustav von Wangenheim (“Hutter”), Greta Schröeder (“Ellen”) and particularly Alexander Granach as the ‘Renfield’-surrogate “Knock,” are almost comically broad today.

For the most part, the actors succeed as well as possible, given the unavoidable limitations of film technology over a century ago. Gotta cut ’em a little slack. Watching the movie today, even with much of the original, partly-reconstructed Hans Erdmann musical score intact (which was performed live during original presentations), requires some patience and understanding from a modern audience; though seeing these captured performances and images from 1922 is still magical, as far as I’m concerned.

That said, Max Schreck’s Count Orlok still remains chilling to behold. Schreck’s Orlok benefits from the silent format, since Orlok’s voice can becomes as terrifying as we imagine. Schreck’s deliberately unnatural movements, along with his gaunt, sunken features bear a quality similar to Conrad Veidt’s more sympathetic “Gwynplaine” from Paul Leni’s “The Man Who Laughs” (1928). Schreck’s performance truly makes the movie, and remains a landmark horror performance on a par with Boris Karloff in “Frankenstein” or Sir Anthony Hopkins’ Hannibal Lector in “Silence of the Lambs.”

Over a century later, and “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror” remains a deserved horror classic. Personally, I prefer it to 1931’s “Dracula” with Bela Lugosi.

“Nosferatu the Vampyre” (1979)

Filmed simultaneously in both German and English-language versions (much like the English/Spanish versions of 1931’s “Dracula”), “Nosferatu the Vampyre,” aka “Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht” (“Phantom of the Night”) was directed by faux documentarian/actor Werner Herzog (“The Mandalorian”), and is unique among the three versions of “Nosferatu” for several reasons.

For starters, it’s the only version of “Nosferatu” to use original character names from Stoker’s book. Protagonist ‘Hutter’ is now Jonathan Harker (Bruno Ganz), though ‘Ellen’ isn’t Mina, but rather Lucy Harker (Isabelle Adjani); her character named after Mina’s bestie from the novel. The eccentric elderly doctor is now the legendary Van Helsing (Walter Ladengast) once again, and the deranged ‘Knock’ is now Renfield (Roland Topor). The greatest surprise of this version comes after Dracula is vanquished by sunlight; when the infected protagonist Jonathan Harker is revealed to be a vampire himself–doomed to carry on Dracula’s curse…

Note: Actor Bruno Ganz would later play Adolph Hitler in the German-made “Downfall” (2004), a memorable and historically accurate chronicling of the final days of Adolph Hitler. It is also the movie responsible for a million GIFs, memes and ‘Hitler-reacts’ videos.

Stealing the show is Klaus Kinski, whose Orlok is now simply referred to as Dracula; though he retains the creepy, gray-faced, almost rat-like visage of the original “Nosferatu.” Dracula’s voice is breathy, unhealthy and unsettling–though not as terrifying as the character’s makeup. More creepy than terrifying, yet very effective all the same. This Nosferatu is less of an overt monster, and more of an insidious, walking contagion. Still deadly and dangerous, but in a very different way.

Seeing and hearing the faithfully-rendered, iconic silent horror character in color and sound is something of a revelation. It’s as though the vampire walked right out from the silent version’s film reels. The late Klaus Kinski gives a career-best performance. Other performances are subtly effective as well, with Bruno Ganz’s Harker adhering to this version’s more muted, quasi-documentary style. Isabelle Adjani’s Lucy is classically beautiful, though her delivery is a bit wooden at times (no stake puns intended…).

The movie’s murky, overcast cinematography takes great advantages of locales in the Netherlands, as well as the former Czechoslovakia. The opening credits run across extended footage of mummified corpses, which is in keeping with this more solemn version’s treatment of vampirism as a deadly, almost inevitable epidemic, and not a rampaging monster to be fought. Despite a runtime of only 107 minutes (modest by today’s standards), the movie’s languid pacing makes for few shocks or jumpscares, though “Nosferatu the Vampyre” remains filled to the brim with a palpable sense of dread.

Faithful both to the look of 1922’s “Nosferatu” and the many versions of “Dracula” past and present, “Nosferatu the Vampyre” offers a fine bridge between the silent classic and the 2024 version, while remaining a landmark horror film in its own right.

“Nosferatu” (2024)

The latest version is directed by Robert Eggers (“The Lighthouse”) and once again changes the character names back to their 1922 silent movie origins. Handsomely shot on 35mm film (a rarity these days), Eggers’ “Nosferatu” also makes effective use of Eastern European locations in Prague, the Czech Republic and Romania. “Nosferatu” feels like an immersive, almost holodeck recreation of the world that could only be suggested by the technologically limited 1922 version. This is easily the best-looking and best-sounding version to date.

The casting is top-notch as well, with Nicholas Hoult (“X-Men: First Class”) as Thomas Hutter and Willem Dafoe (“The Last Temptation of Christ,” “SpiderMan”) as the comically-eccentric Professor Albin Eberhart von Franz, who straddles grave sincerity with dark comedy (comically bizarre characters are his forte these days). A surprising casting coup with Lily-Rose Depp as Ellen, whose psychic link to (and later exploitation of) Orlok is more pronounced in this version than any other. Even under his domination, she consciously lures the monster to his death. This Ellen is no longer a helpless victim, but rather a prophesied martyr. Depp’s Ellen is the best version of this character to date.

Bill Skarsgård (“It”) as Count Orlock delivers all of his lines with a stentorian diction and thick accent that alternates between English and a reconstructed Dacian language (kudos to Romanian screenwriter Florin Lăzărescu for doing the heavy lifting on that one). Despite Skarsgård’s powerful performance, the depiction of Orlock in this version left me vaguely dissatisfied.

Note: Willem Dafoe’s Professor is a more benign version of the 19th century scientist/alchemist he recently played in 2023’s “Poor Things”; a movie I wasn’t quite in love with, despite a great cast and quirky production design. Dafoe was Oscar-nominated for his fictionalized portrayal of actor Max Schreck in 2000’s dark comedy “Shadow of the Vampire” (more on that movie below). Dafoe also played an ex-vampire turned vampire slayer in the underrated 2009 horror/sci-fi film “Daybreakers.”

Director Eggers’ decision to slap a thick mustache on the Count–admittedly in keeping with Dracula/Orlok’s historic ‘Vlad the Impaler’ origins–is distracting, nevertheless. For some reason, the image of Orlok in this film reminded me of “The Master” from the famously-godawful movie, “Manos: The Hands of Fate” (an absolutely putrid flick only made endurable when filtered through its “Mystery Science Theater 3000” laugh-along version).

In addition to the prominent mustache, this Orlok is more physically off-putting and grotesque than others; with gaping sores and wounds covering his tall but decrepit body. The new Orlok more resembles a decomposing corpse found on an episode of “CSI” than an immortal incubus. Granted, the ghoulish Orlok has never exactly been a pretty boy (unlike Bela Lugosi or Christopher Lee’s more seductive vampires), but these changes feel geared more towards the zombie crowd. For my personal tastes, disgusting is not scary. Disgusting is just disgusting. Despite the obvious money and craftsmanship poured into its creation, this latest take on Count Orlok is my least favorite.

My issues with the rotting Orlok notwithstanding, Robert Eggers’ “Nosferatu” is a handsome film, with impressive fidelity to its source material, elegantly presented through mesmerizing cinematography by Jarin Blaschke, who previously collaborated with Eggers on “The Lighthouse” (2019) and “The Northman” (2022). While the movie’s 132 minute runtime feels a mite excessive, Eggers’ new take on “Nosferatu” is clearly a labor of love.

BONUS FEATURE: “Shadow of the Vampire” (2000)

Directed by E. Elias Merhige and coproduced by actor Nicolas Cage, “Shadow of the Vampire” (2000) is a heavily-fictionalized, docudrama/dark-comedy chronicling the making of 1922’s “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror.” The movie’s central comedic conceit is that silent film star Max Schreck (played by future “Nosferatu” remake costar Willem Dafoe) was, in fact, a real Transylvanian vampire, who was somehow located and hired by obsessive-compulsive director Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau (John Malkovich). We then learn that Murnau entered into a Faustian bargain with the monster in order to make his horror masterpiece as realistic as possible. Much of the movie’s dark-roasted humor comes from Murnau having to pass the monster off as a method actor who does his own makeup and who cannot interact with the cast or crew during breaks; as he must remain buried in character at all times during the shoot.

This independent movie, coproduced by BBC and Saturn films, features a game supporting cast, including comedian Eddie Izzard as egotistic actor Gustav von Wangenheim and Catherine McCormack (“Braveheart”) as party girl leading lady Greta Schröeder, whom vampire Schreck (and every other male in the production company) is enamored with, despite her insufferable prima donna-isms. The movie also features Udo Kier (“Suspiria”) as apprehensive art director Albin Grau and Cary Elwes (“The Princess Bride”) as replacement cinematographer Fritz Arno Wagner, after cinematographer Günther Krampf (Paul McGann) is mysteriously drained of blood.

Note: My wife and I saw Eddie Izzard in concert last October during her live Remix Tour show, and she was absolutely hilarious. Well worth it.

The movie uses the Faustian bargain between Murnau and Schreck to ask an even greater question; who is the real monster of the piece? The blood-sucking vampire who’s only doing what comes naturally, or the neurotically obsessed filmmaker, who’s not above sacrificing the occasional unused actor or extra crewman to the beast for the sake of his ‘art’? For most of the film, Dafoe plays aged vampire Schreck as something of a has-been among bloodsuckers, who lamentably tells members of the production crew during an unguarded moment, “I feed like an old man pees– sometimes all at once, sometimes drop by drop.” Despite his pitifulness, we are occasionally reminded of the danger posed by Schreck, particularly when Murnau pushes him too far. Dafoe delivers both pathos and danger with equal aplomb.

With members of the company going mysteriously ‘absent’ during production, the obsessed Murnau carries on, to the point of filming the final sequences himself, as the dark shadow over the production scares off even his stalwart cinematographer. The movie speaks to both the pretentiousness of auteur theory as well as the disposable nature of moviemaking; once you’re finished, you’re sent packing–or fed to a bloodthirsty vampire, whichever. Nothing else matters, not even the life of a leading lady, so long as the director gets their shots. If the show-biz comedy were any darker, you’d need a flashlight.

The movie ends with Murnau hastily hand-cranking his own final shots for “Nosferatu,” as the swooning Count drinks the blood of a sedated Greta, unaware of the rising sun, which snuffs the nocturnal bloodsucker out of existence. In the end, we realize it’s the monster who gets double-crossed in the Faustian bargain, as director Murnau dismissively sacrifices Schreck in order to get an authentic vampire’s death for his camera.

While technically not a part of the “Nosferatu” live-action trilogy, I’d be remiss not to include “Shadow of the Vampire” here; it’s a must-see for fans of the “Nosferatu” films. If I were to custom make a Blu-Ray set of the “Nosferatu” films, I’d have to throw this one in as well.

Summing It Up

While it was those still photos from the original 1922 version of “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror” in the pages of Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine that captured (and tormented) my imagination as a kid, the movie is nevertheless hampered by the limited reach of its antiquated, hand-cranked, soundless filmmaking. For collectors like myself, I cannot recommend the restored Kino Lorber Blu-Ray of the film enough, especially with its tinted scenes, and choice of English or German title cards, as well as a partial reconstruction of the largely lost Hans Erdmann musical score; which was played by a pianist during theatrical performances of this film back in the 1920s. Despite its limitations, the 1922 original still retains some nightmarish imagery; and Max Schreck as the vampire Orlok, with his truly unsettling body language, remains unfettered as an icon of horror cinema, over one hundred years later.

Werner Herzog’s “Nosferatu the Vampyre” (aka “Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht”) from 1979 builds upon 57 years of filmmaking advances since the original, with its cast able to deliver less stagey and more nuanced performances, along with the obligatory color and sound. Herzog uses his faux documentarian background to deliver what is easily the most natural-looking version of the three. Able to reuse character names from the original “Dracula” novel/movies (a lucky break, with Bram Stoker’s novel entering public domain), Klaus Kinski’s Dracula wisely retains the same basic look as actor Max Schreck’s iconic Orlok; right down to the gray skin, pointed ears and protruding, rat-like teeth. This version also introduces a unique twist ending, as the increasingly ill Jonathan Harker is revealed to have contracted the now-vanquished Dracula’s vampirism as well. While it risks being overlooked between the flashier 1922 and 2024 versions, this more subtle, creepier version of “Nosferatu” is arguably the best of the lot.

The 2024 Robert Eggers remake is simply titled “Nosferatu”; a simplicity which belies its opulence and grandiosity. Though shot on 35mm film instead of modern digital video, the movie nevertheless pools many modern visual and sonic technologies to deliver an immersive horror experience. The core cast, Nicholas Hoult, Willem Dafoe and particularly Lily-Rose Depp, give it their all. The only element that stunts this otherwise amazing remake is the monster itself. Bill Skarsgård (Pennywise from 2017’s “It”) as Orlok delivers a powerful thunderstorm of a performance. However, aesthetic choices for his character are questionable, such as a thick, distracting mustache, and rotten, corpse-like body that looks less like an immortal incubus and more an expired side of beef. Lily-Rose Depp is the movie’s secret weapon; delivering the greatest version of the Ellen/Lucy character to date–smartly retooled as a heroic martyr instead of a helpless victim. It’s a welcome change.

All three “Nosferatu” films have their strengths and weaknesses, and each represents an evolutionary cinematic achievement in its own right. The best thing about this ersatz-Dracula sub-franchise is that there really is no ‘bad’ version; each delivers a unique take on the material (aesthetically and conceptually) that makes them all worth watching for any patient and appreciative horror connoisseur. Oh, and don’t forget “Shadow of the Vampire,” too!

Where to Watch

Kino Lorber Home Video has recently released a new, largely complete Blu-Ray of 1922’s “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror” (1922), which runs around 94 minutes and even restores the color-tinting of the original theatrical presentations (it can be ordered via Amazon, or Kino Lorber’s website). The 1922 version is also available to stream via Tubi, Pluto, Amazon Prime and other platforms (quality varies). 1979’s “Nosferatu the Vampyre” and 2024’s “Nosferatu” are both currently available to stream on Peacock as of this writing, as well as Tubi. Both are also available on DVD and Blu-Ray (prices vary by seller). “Shadow of the Vampire” is currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video.