Directed by F.W. Murnau
Starring Max Schreck, Gustav von Wangenheim, Greta Schroder, Aleander Granach, Ruth Landshoff and Wolfgang Heinz
Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for some Boring Life and Times of Jon Lickness. Everybody is on the edge of their seats, I'm sure. I found myself in the unenviable position of having to buy few movies for the upcoming weeks but figured it would be easy enough, just like it's always been. I go through the usual routine that I've been on for, oh, 15 years or so of going on to Amazon and looking for the mountain of cheap DVDs from wholesalers. And it was in this buying quest where I found out that DVDs...aren't so cheap anymore. Seriously, the lowest price I saw for any of the films I was looking for was $25. Yup, digital video has made the production of these things pretty much unnecessary, meaning less stuff in the market, meaning price up, boyo. Lo and behold, I joined the dark side of Amazon Video for a lot of the films to be reviewed in the coming weeks. My opening night Amazon Video splurge consisted of four old horror flicks and the Elvis Presley opus King Creole. Yeah. I'm cool. Fortunately, the movie in question today is so crusty that it's in the public domain and it's part of my oft-mentioned and never-watched "50 Horror Classics" set. Foreshadowing alert.
It's time for another marathon run. Welcome...wait for it...to...the 2017 Black (and White) Christmas Spectacular! A few people have complained recently that I don't review enough "old" movies, and when I looked back at all of my reviews from the last year, they've got a fair point. You also can't get much "older" than glorious black and white. We're going to be going through seven B & W classics in chroological order, and since it was already mentioned that this one is in the public domain and that it's the oldest, it should come as no surprise to those in the horror know that this week we're doing the O.G. 1922 Nosferatu.
This movie is as no frills as it gets. Hell, it doesn't even have sound! Yes, kids, in the very early days of cinema, all movies used to be this way. A musical soundtrack, brief bits showing the story, and title cards giving us essential dialogue. I think I can count the number of silent movies I've seen on two hands (and one of 'em is the Mel Brooks spoof Silent Movie), but this flick is definitely one of the best known. It's an unauthorized adaptation of the novel Dracula that hits a lot of the same beats with different character names, and it's wacky enough to be watchable for anyone. If you've seen nothing else from this flick, you're definitely more than familiar with that famous shot of Count Orlok (this movie's version of Drac himself) and his shadow walking up the stairs. Google it.
The opening bits of the story are actually pretty close to Bram Stoker's novel. It goes from the present day of 1897 Victorian England to 1838 Germany, where we meet Thomas Hutter, this movie's version of Thomas Hutter. He's on his way to Transylvania to meet Count Orlok with the familiar story device of assisting the Count buy up a new house in a new city. Only in this film, said house is located directly across the street from Thomas Hutter himself. Seems legit. One thing about this movie that I would actually like to see brought back is the LOOK of Count Orlok himself. With Twilight and everything that came in its wake, we've OD'd on vampires who look like Abercrombie and Fitch models. We could definitely stand to see a nasty, ugly-looking S.O.B. again, and Max Schreck was definitely up for the role. Well, action-wise, anyway, because it's not like we get to hear him talk. When he dives for the blood after Thomas Hutter accidentally cuts himself...you buy that shit.
What's left of the plot is essentially Dracula, albeit with some minor differences. Hutter has a wife named Ellen with whom Orlok becomes smitten (the title card reading "She has a lovely throat" is a favorite). Van Helsing has been changed to Professor Bulwer, Renfield has been change to Knock (and what a name that is - he also gets a bonus sequence where he kills the warden of his psych hospital), and Lucy Westenra is now Annie, the sister of one of Harker's - I mean, Hutter's - good friends. Unfortunately, a lot of the really interesting side characters are taken out. No Dr. Seward, no Quincey Morris, no Arthur Holmwood, etc. In a way, this is understandable. I mean, we're dealing with a silent movie here. Making an epic at this time must have been something of an epic in and of itself, so it's a flaw that I'll forgive. And that might be the single best instance of film criticism of 2017.
However, there is one thing that I really have to give this movie props (do kids still say that?) for - the finale. It's definitely unique. See, the novel has this big epic climax where all of the characters hunting Dracula down chase him down and he's eventually stabbed in the heart by Quincey Morris. This one has this bittersweet climax involving Ellen (the aforementioned Mina equivalent) sacrificing herself so that...well, see for yourself. As far as endings that stray from the Bram Stoker source material, this one is a close second only to the "Peter Cushing lays the epic smackdown on Christopher Lee" stuff from Horror of Dracula.
First things first. Silent movies are a hard sell for modern audiences, but take my word for it, some of them are actually worth seeking out. Buster Keaton's The General in particular is loads of fun. If you can get past that barrier, there's some enjoyment to be had with Nosferatu, mainly due to the ungodly atmosphere that director Murnau manages to mine throughout the whole thing. It goes without saying that black and white, in general, is more dreamlike and mysterious, and that's a big plus when you look at some of the sets on display here. Even more impressive since it all probably cost something like 17 bucks in 1922 money.
Since a silent movie is, well, silent, a HUGE part of the experience was the score. Fortunately, that's also a part of this flick that works really well. The full, original title of the film was Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror, and I think Murnau can rest in his grave knowing that he created just that. The music is enjoyable, memorable, and at times perfectly creepy. It can also get a little overbearing at times, sounding like a funeral dirge on crack. But only briefly, I promise. I'm not gonna lie, it's hard for me to get into the characters of a silent film (which is why The General is such a rarity), so details like this are important. Fortunately, this is a movie that nails most of its little details.
*** out of ****. I can't say that this flick is any kind of favorite, but everybody should check this movie out at least once for curiosity and historical value. Recommended.
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