Nosferatu (2024) Movie Review: A Gothic Nightmare Reborn

In an era where remakes often feel like pale cash grabs, Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu (2024) storms in like a plague-ridden wind, proving that old tales can still draw blood. This isn’t just a nod to F.W. Murnau’s 1922 silent masterpiece—it’s a full-throated reimagining, drenched in gothic dread and modern craft. Released on Christmas Day 2024, the film stars Bill Skarsgård as the grotesque Count Orlok, Lily-Rose Depp as the haunted Ellen Hutter, and Nicholas Hoult as her hapless husband Thomas, with a supporting cast including Willem Dafoe and Aaron Taylor-Johnson. With a $50 million budget and a global box office of $178.8 million (as of February 23, 2025), it’s Eggers’ highest-grossing work yet, earning four nominations at the 97th Academy Awards. But beyond the numbers, Nosferatu is a cinematic beast—repulsive, seductive, and unforgettable. What makes it tick? Let’s peel back the shadows.

Plot Overview: A Dance of Desire and Doom

Set in 1838 Wisborg, a fictional German town, Nosferatu begins with a chilling prologue: a young Ellen, lonely and yearning, unknowingly summons a supernatural force that brands her soul. Fast forward to adulthood, and Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) is newly married to Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult), an ambitious real estate agent. When Thomas’ eccentric boss, Herr Knock (Simon McBurney), sends him to Transylvania to finalize a deal with the reclusive Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgård), the couple sees it as a ticket to a better life. But Orlok’s interest isn’t in property—it’s in Ellen, whom he’s claimed across centuries as his eternal bride.

Thomas’ journey to Orlok’s decaying castle is a descent into nightmare—rats swarm, shadows twist, and the Count’s presence oozes malevolence. Back in Wisborg, Ellen’s dreams turn feverish, her body contorting as Orlok’s influence invades her mind. When Thomas returns, shaken and marked, the Count follows, bringing death to the town—plague, madness, and bloodlust in his wake. Enter Professor Albin Eberhart Von Franz (Willem Dafoe), a Van Helsing-esque occultist, and Friedrich Harding (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), a friend who joins the fight. Yet it’s Ellen who holds the key, her psychic bond with Orlok a double-edged sword that could save or doom them all. The climax—a sacrificial showdown bathed in dawn’s light—is as tragic as it is terrifying, leaving you stunned.

Bill Skarsgård’s Orlok: A Monster for the Ages

Bill Skarsgård’s Count Orlok is the film’s dark heart, a creature so grotesque and commanding he redefines vampire terror. Buried under prosthetics—skeletal frame, claw-like hands, a mustache that’s oddly menacing—Skarsgård vanishes into the role, his voice a damp, bass rumble that feels unearthly (thanks to pitch-lowering tech). Unlike the romantic Draculas of old, this Orlok is pure predator—lustful, cruel, and devoid of charm. His first full reveal, 40 minutes in, is a masterstroke of buildup, his silhouette snaking through shadows before his gnarled face looms into view.

Skarsgård, no stranger to horror after It’s Pennywise, brings a physicality that’s both frail and ferocious. A scene where he feeds on a victim, his body trembling with hunger, is stomach-churning yet hypnotic. Critics laud his “menacing” turn, and it’s easy to see why—he’s not just scary; he’s a force of nature, distorting reality itself. If there’s a quibble, it’s that his screen time borders on overexposure, diluting the mystery at times. Still, this is a vampire you won’t forget.

Lily-Rose Depp as Ellen: A Haunted Heroine

Lily-Rose Depp’s Ellen Hutter is the film’s emotional core, a role that demands both fragility and fire—and she delivers. With her sharp cheekbones and waifish frame, Depp looks like a porcelain doll teetering on the edge of breaking, perfectly cast for a woman caught in a supernatural tug-of-war. Her physical performance—contorting in bed as Orlok invades her dreams—is raw and unassisted by CGI, a nod to silent-film expressiveness that’s earned her raves (and probably a chiropractor bill).

Ellen’s arc is a slow burn from victim to victor, her psychic link with Orlok a torment she turns into strength. A pivotal moment—her whispered “Come to me, hear my call”—is both seductive and defiant, setting the stage for a finale where she outsmarts her husband and the monster alike. Some critics find her character thinly written beyond the possession, but Depp’s ethereal presence and fierce resolve make Ellen a standout, proving she’s more than Johnny Depp’s daughter—she’s a star in her own right.

Nicholas Hoult and the Ensemble: A Mixed Bag

Nicholas Hoult’s Thomas Hutter is the film’s earnest anchor, a naive everyman whose optimism crumbles in Orlok’s shadow. Hoult, fresh from Renfield, plays Thomas with a beguiling sincerity—his trek through snowy forests and disoriented return to Wisborg are hauntingly real. Yet his role feels sidelined as Ellen takes center stage, leaving him more damsel than hero.

Willem Dafoe’s Professor Von Franz is a delight, his campy fervor a jolt of energy in the gloom. Chewing scenery with a mad gleam, he’s the film’s Van Helsing figure, wielding occult knowledge with gusto. Aaron Taylor-Johnson’s Friedrich Harding, however, splits opinions—his rugged charm shines, but some find his performance stilted, a rare misstep in Eggers’ casting. Supporting players like Emma Corrin (Anna Harding) and Simon McBurney (Herr Knock) add texture, though their roles are brief.

Robert Eggers’ Vision: Gothic Mastery Meets Modern Edge

Robert Eggers—behind The Witch, The Lighthouse, and The Northman—cements his status as a horror auteur with Nosferatu. This isn’t a mere remake; it’s a resurrection, blending Murnau’s 1922 template with Stoker’s Dracula and a dash of Coppola’s 1992 flair. Eggers’ obsession with historical accuracy shines—sets built from Transylvanian blueprints, costumes dripping with 1830s detail, dialogue that feels period-perfect yet alive. The Czech-shot village scenes buzz with Roma musicians, a chaotic one-take marvel.

Visually, it’s a feast. Cinematographer Jarin Blaschke crafts a world of queasy lamplight and long shadows, earning an Oscar nod for Best Cinematography. The film’s planar framing and slow pans evoke silent cinema, while practical effects—rats, blood, Orlok’s decayed flesh—ground the horror in tactile reality. Robin Carolan’s score, melancholic and thunderous, sidesteps typical jump-scare cues for something deeper, another Oscar contender. At 133 minutes, pacing dips mid-film, and some argue it’s too reverent to its roots. But Eggers’ commitment to dread over cheap thrills makes every frame pulse with intent.

Themes: Lust, Control, and the Eternal Night

Nosferatu isn’t just scary—it’s a meditation on desire and agency. Orlok’s obsession with Ellen is toxic, a far cry from romantic vampire tropes; it’s lust as a plague, consuming all. Ellen’s struggle to reclaim control flips the damsel script, her sacrifice a feminist twist on gothic sacrifice. The film digs into folklore too—vampires as moldering corpses, not twinkling heartthrobs—restoring their primal terror.

In 2025, its themes hit hard. Ellen’s battle mirrors modern fights for autonomy, while Orlok’s plague echoes societal fears of chaos beyond our grasp. Eggers avoids heavy-handed metaphors, letting the story’s sorrow and terror speak for themselves. It’s a tragedy as much as a horror show, and that duality lingers.

Where It Stands in 2024 Horror

2024 boasted bold horror like The Substance and Longlegs, but Nosferatu carves its own lane. Its 85% Rotten Tomatoes score (down from an early 95%) and B– CinemaScore reflect a polarizing ride—critics call it “repulsive and seductive,” while some fans find it slow or redundant. Yet its craft—Oscar noms for cinematography, costumes, production design, and makeup—sets it apart. Against Dracula adaptations, it’s less operatic than Coppola’s, less austere than Herzog’s 1979 take, but more visceral than both.

It’s not flawless. The runtime bloats, and Orlok’s mustache (yes, really) can jar. But for gothic horror buffs, it’s a triumph—a return to form for a genre too often diluted by slashers and sequels.

Final Verdict: A Haunting Must-See

Nosferatu (2024) is Robert Eggers at his peak: a gothic nightmare that honors its legacy while clawing into new territory. Skarsgård terrifies, Depp mesmerizes, and the visuals sear into your brain. It’s not for everyone—too long, too grim for casual viewers—but for those who crave artful horror, it’s a bloody delight. Catch it on digital now (since January 21, 2025) or await the extended Blu-ray.

Rating: 4/5 Stars
Where to Watch: Digital platforms, with Blu-ray forthcoming.