Movie Review: Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979)
Synopsis
"Nosferatu the Vampyre" (1979), directed by Werner Herzog, is a remarkable homage to F.W. Murnau’s 1922 silent classic "Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror." The film delicately weaves a tale of fear, desire, and the uncanny, set against the backdrop of a desolate, moonlit landscape punctuated by the Gothic architecture of 19th-century Europe. The narrative revolves around Jonathan Harker (played by Bruno Ganz), a real estate agent sent from Wismar to Transylvania to broker a sale of a property to Count Dracula, the mysterious and sparse inhabitant of the eerie Castle Dracula.
As Jonathan becomes ensnared in the Count’s malevolent charm and dreadfulness, his fiancée, Lucy Westenra (Isabelle Adjani), remains in Wismar, her eventual fate entwined with the monstrous fate of both Jonathan and the Count himself. Dracula, portrayed by Klaus Kinski, emerges as a tragic figure, a creature of the night driven by overwhelming loneliness and longing, desperately seeking to connect with humanity through his brutal, sanguinary methods.
The film advances to Wismar, where a plague-like horror unfolds as Dracula manifests a reign of terror, preying on Lucy and the townsfolk. It explores themes of isolation and the eternal struggle between light and darkness, all while maintaining an atmosphere steeped in artistic beauty and philosophical depth. Herzog’s interpretation diverges from Murnau’s version, providing contemporary sensibilities while retaining the haunting essence of the vampire myth.
Cast
- Klaus Kinski as Count Dracula
- Bruno Ganz as Jonathan Harker
- Isabelle Adjani as Lucy Westenra
- Rudiger Vogler as Dr. Van Helsing
- Walter Ladengast as Knock
- Daniel Franzese as the Lay Brother
- Cécile Tanner as the Bloated Woman
- Siegfried S. Hohenberger as the Carnival Leader
Review
"Nosferatu the Vampyre" is more than a mere remake; it is a masterful reimagining that utilises the landscape of horror to delve deep into the human psyche. Herzog, an auteur known for his daring explorations of the boundaries of reality, takes the viewer on a surreal journey where the grotesque becomes beautiful and the tragic is omnipresent.
Klaus Kinski’s portrayal of Count Dracula is nothing short of unforgettable. With his gaunt physicality, piercing eyes, and an uncanny way of speaking, Kinski embodies the essence of despair that is deeply interwoven into Dracula’s character. Unlike traditional portrayals of vampires as merely monstrous, Kinski’s Dracula is imbued with a poignant wistfulness that evokes sympathy amidst his terror. When he appears onscreen, he commands the attention of the audience, not merely as a creature to be feared, but as a tortured soul seeking to bridge the chasm between the living and the dead.
Bruno Ganz’s Jonathan Harker offers a compelling counterbalance to Kinski’s Count. As the quintessential everyman caught in extraordinary circumstances, Ganz captures the character’s escalating horror and eventual despair with a delicate realism that grounds the supernatural aspects of the film. His struggle, both against the forces of darkness and within himself, forms the emotional crux of the narrative.
Isabelle Adjani’s performance as Lucy Westenra adds layers of complexity to the portrayal of the classic damsel in distress. Adjani breathes life into Lucy, allowing her character to evolve from a passive victim to a woman confronting her fate. The dichotomy between her tragic beauty and the horror enveloping her becomes a poignant metaphor for the vulnerability of humanity against insurmountable odds.
The supporting cast, particularly Rudiger Vogler as Dr. Van Helsing, provides a strong backbone to the narrative. Van Helsing, often portrayed as a confident and knowledgeable force against evil in other adaptations, is here depicted with a sense of weariness and burden. The tension between his scientific rationality and the supernatural events occurring underlines the film’s exploration of fear—the fear of the unknown, of mortality, and of the societal decay manifested in the form of Dracula’s vampiric curse.
Visually, Herzog’s film is a triumph. The cinematography by Jörg Schmidt-Reitwein captures the eerie beauty of the landscapes, from the haunting silhouettes of castles to the dimly lit interiors that evoke a sense of dread and suspense. The use of light and shadow is exquisite, further enhancing the Gothic atmosphere and accentuating the emotional weight of the film. The haunting score, composed by Popol Vuh, imbues the film with an otherworldly quality, encapsulating the deep melancholy and existential themes prevalent throughout.
Herzog’s method of intertwining the mundane with the supernatural elevates the film’s narrative. Scenes of Harker’s initial encounter with Dracula—his apprehension while traversing the desolate Transylvanian landscape—are juxtaposed with Lucy’s everyday life in Wismar, creating a rich tapestry of contrasting worlds. This dichotomy serves to heighten the horror of Dracula’s intrusion into the lives of the townsfolk, signalling the gradual erosion of safety and sanity.
Through “Nosferatu the Vampyre,” Herzog effectively examines the interplay of power and vulnerability—how the supernatural can disrupt societal norms and personal lives. The vampire metaphor transcends mere folklore, serving as a reflection of repressed desire and the primal fears that underpin human existence. The film invites the audience to grapple with profound questions about love, death, and what it means to be human in a world plagued by darkness.
Despite its adherence to the thematic essentials of the original "Nosferatu," Herzog doesn’t shy away from colouring outside the lines. The ethereal scenes involving the syphilitic rats, emblematic of the plague, are hauntingly suggestive of the consequences of unacknowledged fears and desires. The subtle critique of the Victorian societal norms surrounding sexuality comes through Lucy’s character arc, as she is confronted with both allure and horror in her dealings with Dracula, embodying the complex interplay between innocence and experience.
In conclusion, "Nosferatu the Vampyre" is not merely a horror film; it is a philosophical exploration of existence, longing, and the human condition. Herzog’s unique vision breathes new life into a timeless tale, offering a film that resonates on multiple levels. The performances, particularly Kinski’s, coupled with stunning visuals and a haunting score, create a lasting cinematic experience that challenges conventional interpretations of the vampire lore.
This film will likely appeal not only to horror aficionados but also to anyone interested in exploring the deeper emotional aspects of the human experience tangled with the supernatural. Therefore, I give "Nosferatu the Vampyre" a score of 9/10 for its artistic brilliance and its ability to provoke thought while captivating the audience with its eerie beauty.
