Fear Lurking in the Shadows
When studying the horror genre, few characters are as iconic as the vampire. From the romanticized iterations from such films as Interview with the Vampire and Only Lovers Left Alive to the grotesque and brutal blood-suckers of From Dusk till Dawn and The Lost Boys, vampires have evolved significantly over the years and are still as popular as ever. Bringing forth a sense of dread and gripping the unknown anxieties within, vampires stand as the figures of decay, isolation, and a primitive darkness we suppress. While these seem like concepts one might want to escape from, we seem to be drawn to them even more considering the popularity surrounding the vampire tropes and as was seen more recently with the hyped release of Robert Eggers’ remake of Nosferatu (2024).
Now, I personally enjoy the vampire lore, aesthetic, and basically anything to do with the creatures of the night. With my appetite for the macabre though, it made sense to me why I would find the undead appealing. But the continued interest and favor amongst the non self-proclaimed goths of the world is interesting to me. I have to wonder what it is about vampires and specifically this Nosferatu remake that is met with such enthusiasm, breaking records and bringing in well over $170,000,000 worldwide. For a horror film that was expected to resonate with only a niche audience (and upset many for its release on Christmas day), that’s a hefty haul. I am curious how it generated such a buzz, and curiosity begs for exploration. So, join me and let’s sink our teeth in.
The original F.W. Murnau’s silent film Nosferatu was released in 1922, marked as an unauthorized adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. This film set the standard for horror at the time and melded darkness and death with underlying erotic themes. It explored shadowy atmospheres and monstrous imagery to masterfully send chills down your spine while awakening hidden desires. Jump forward more than a century to 2024 where we have now been blessed (or cursed?) with director Robert Eggers' vision of just how creepy and impulsive we can go.
Considering that horror is often a reflection of societal fears and anxieties, it makes sense why Eggers would jump on this project. Having solidified himself as a distinct atmospheric visionary, Eggers thrives in the unsettling and historically accurate stories he brings to life. With such works as The Witch (2015), The Lighthouse (2019), and The Northman (2022), Eggers grounds his stories in slow-burn psychological unease often intertwined with folkloric terror, madness, and isolation. While we aren’t sitting in theatres waiting for the next jump-scare or gory slash fest, Eggers delivers on a different level, one that settles under the skin, discomforting and chilling…inescapable. Who better than him then to craft an experience that draws on societal anxieties, shame, loneliness, and sexual desires? Considering the recent COVID-19 pandemic, the current (chaotic) political landscape, and other existential concerns surrounding human existence (climate change, AI, etc.) Nosferatu feels oddly appropriate. With rising fears around diseases, general exhaustion of living in a capitalistic society, and the blurred lines of temptation, the haunting nature of vampiric lore and resurgence of gothic horror fits and mirrors many of these underlying emotions. At a time when most feel drained by the demands of modern society, what better symbol than a parasitic, shadow-dwelling entity that feeds off the living and tempts you to succumb?
Along with the timely exploration of dread and helplessness, we must also acknowledge the shift from slasher film tropes to this “elevated horror” popularized today. With “elevated horror,” the goal is to go beyond traditional scare tactics. “Look out! There’s a crazy killer behind you wielding a chainsaw” is probably fun for some but we’ve come to a point where directors, writers, etc. want to explore the more familiar elements of fear, preying on relatable anxieties and tugging at the emotions we compartmentalize and hide away for no one else to find. Pair that with visually arresting cinematography and we have this new elevated version of horror film. Eggers’ it seems, is well on his way to perfecting this. From exploring shame in our desires, the desperation in our solitude, and our repressed emotions and needs, Eggers brings in the actors who can manifest this on screen and creates an aesthetic that is intoxicating. Through grimy realism, striking sets and locales, and eerie lighting and effects, the tension builds in its silence, in its beauty, and in its simplicity. The experience works on a deeper level, not to simply have us jumping out of our seats, but instead, to insert itself within our minds, nudging at all the uncomfortable things that make our skin crawl.
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