On June 10, 2025, historical epics take a turn for the weird as theViking revenge filmThe Northman(2022) sails into theaters to pillage the minds of the general film-going public. The movie bears a surface resemblance to previous blood-soaked excursions into the macho past, such asBraveheart(1995) andGladiator(2000). ButThe Northman’s emphasis on historical accuracy, pagan philosophy, and Nordic lyricism set it apart from rote movie epics. It comes from the mind ofRobert Eggers, the filmmaker behind macabre oddballsthe VVitch(2015) andthe Lighthouse(2019).
With their immaculate historical verisimilitude on one hand and their use of timeless mythic archetypes on the other, the films of Robert Eggers are absolutely unique, andThe Northmanrepresents the culmination of his cinematic obsessions blown up to a ninety-million dollar budget. With a film of that size comes artistic sacrifice, and thoughearly critical reception has been overwhelmingly positive, Eggers has admitted that working on the blockbuster was a painful experience he would never do again. Each Eggers film precedingThe Northmanhad been a step into bigger territory; having reached a financial terrain that does not fit his artistic sensibilities, where should the filmmaker go next? The answer could be a long-delayed passion project:Nosferatu.
One of the earliest horror films of all time (and still one of the best), F.W. Murnau’sNosferatu(1922) – an unofficial adaptation of Bram Stoker’sDracula– introduced cinema’s most enduring ghoul, the vampire, delivered in thickly shadowed gothic style that took full advantage of the creative potentials of film. Though the movie was ordered destroyed because of a lawsuit filed by the Stoker Estate, its initial release made a massive impact on the horror idiom, cementing cinema as the optimal medium for nightmares and hallucinations. The film’s legacy only increased years later with a restoration made from the few surviving prints. Werner Herzog’s 1979 remakeNosferatu the Vampyre(Nosferatu: Phantom der Nachtin its original German) had a similarly significant impact on the grammar of horror, blurring the boundaries between eccentric art-house cinema and genre flicks. Because of its elegant treatment of time, death, and change, the film recontextualized schlocky horror tropes as the stuff of myth; because of its association with a profitable genre, the film drew a wider audience than Herzog’s previous output. Both Murnau and Herzog’s films are frequently cited as the greatest horror film of all time.
Nosferatuhas an intimidating legacy, and it may seem foolish for a filmmaker as green as Robert Eggers to attempt his own adaptation, but anyone familiar with his films knows that Eggers has earned his stripes.Nosferatuwould be a perfect opportunity for him to return to the world of small-scale macabre cinema. Though the vampire film was his next planned project,the last-second drop out of a lead actorhas left the production’s future uncertain. Here’s why Eggers should continue with the film.
A Return to Small Films
For a filmmaker as distinctive as Eggers, making a big movie was always going to be a challenge. Because of the large budget, Eggers relinquished final cut rights for the first time in his career. Perhaps he held in good faith that the studio would trust his choices, given the glowing reviews of his previous films and his early canonization as a great filmmaker. Still, the sound of Eggers’s soft-spoken poetry is hard to hear over the clang of cold hard cash, and the studio demanded cuts after a test screening left audiences scratching their heads (both of Eggers’s previous films received a similarly puzzling response from test audiences – and went on to great acclaim anyway).
Unlike horror stories of directors having their films taken away, Eggers made the cuts himself with longtime editor Louise Ford and seemed happy with the studio-approved cut. “I think I’ve delivered the most entertaining version,” he toldThe New Yorker. “The most entertaining version is not something I’m usually striving for. But it was here, you know, and it happened.” Even so, Eggers admitted to being put off by the experience. “Frankly, I don’t think I will do it again. Even if it means, like, not making a film this big ever again. And, by the way, I’d like to make a film this big. I’d like to make one even bigger. But, without control, I don’t know. It’s too hard on my person.” EnterNosferatu.
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It would be possible to spend a lot of money on a Nosferatu film: elaborate sets, intense makeup, hyper-specific lighting set-ups; but no matter how big the budget, it will not approach the excesses ofThe Northman. Between that film’s army of stunt performers and extras, remote locations, COVID-19 safety regulations, massive action sequences, and an on-call team of researchers and historians, the Viking revenge epic was an enormous undertaking. Comparatively,Nosferatuis a picnic. It would have few locations and cast members, no armies or high-octane battle sequences, and an aesthetic that embraces the shadows. MakingNosferatuwould give Eggers the opportunity to step back from the hullabaloo of large-scale filmmaking and make something small, intimate, and as strange as his heart desires. With the pains of his latest film production, Eggers needs something that possesses a special meaning for him – andNosferatuis the perfect candidate.
Robert Eggers and Nosferatu
If it seems bold for a filmmaker with only three features to remake two of the greatest horror films of all time, Eggers’s project used to be ballsier: before makingThe Lighthouse, he was seriously consideringfollowing his feature debut withNosferatu.“It feels ugly and blasphemous and egomaniacal and disgusting for a filmmaker in my place to doNosferatunext,” Eggers told the Filmmaker Toolkit Podcast after the release ofthe VVitch. “I was planning on waiting a while, but that’s how fate shook out.” If making a new film out ofNosferatuseems ambitious, the decision wasn’t made flippantly: Eggers has had a lifelong obsession with the film. When he was too young to watch the gnarlier side of horror cinema, Eggers developed a deep love for gothic horror, and the discovery ofNosferatu(1922) hit all the right buttons. “I saw a picture of Max Schreck as Count Orlok in a book in my elementary school, and I lost my mind.”
For his senior year of high school, Eggers directed a stage adaptation of the film – though he insists that his vision was informed by the reality-bursting expressionism ofthe Cabinet of Dr. Caligari(1920) more than Murnau’s subtler use of German Expressionist shadows and sets. It was noticed by a local theater owner, who commissioned a professional re-staging of the play. Eggers cites this as the moment when he realized he was meant to be a director. There’s little wonder why he would want to return to the material – though he plans to approach it differently the second time around.
“[…] if I were to make the movie 17-year-old Rob was going to make […] it would have been something between like ‘the Nightmare Before Christmas’ and ‘Sin City,’ whereas this is going to be the same approach as ‘the VVitch,’ where 1830s Biedermeier Baltic Germany needs to be articulated in a way that seems real.”
It should be noted that this statement was made before the production ofthe Lighthouse. Though that film was as historically textured asthe VVitch, it marked a detour from the former film’s hyperreal aesthetic (discounting the magic and talking goat, of course). The visual language ofThe Lighthousesteered at times into the overtly fantastical, using its black and white photography for surreal effect as often as historical accuracy. All this is to say thatNosferatuwill certainly adhere meticulously to the technology and dialects of 1830s Germany – but it could also steer into more expressionistic realms than the adaptation Eggers planned afterThe VVitch.
Unlike Herzog, Eggers does not want his film to be an overt homage to Murnau’s film. Instead of basing the eponymous ghoul on Max Schreck’s iconic look, Eggers wants to go back to the origins of the folk vampire, creating a character drawn from a primal collective consciousness rather than the shared idiom of popular culture (if your central monster has been used as a punchline inSpongeBob SquarePants, there’s a chance it isn’t as scary as it used to be). Herzog’s film and Klaus Kinski’s Count Dracula (renamed for the remake,Draculahaving passed into the public domain by 1979) are distinct, finding new meanings for the original’s imagery, but they explicitly reference that imagery to honor one of German Cinema’s greats. Eggers isn’t interested in rehashing the story and aesthetic of the previous films: he wants to tap into the mythic qualities of the character that spoke to him as a child.
The Timeless Quality of Myth
When asked why all his films are set in the past, Eggers is said to cite 17th-century poet John Dryden: “For mankind is ever the same and nothing is lost out of nature, though everything is altered.” Eggers is fascinated by previous incarnations of human civilization, partly because of their closer proximity to a primordial past and partly because there is no difference between the psychological forces that motivated us then and the forces that motivate us now. Just as fairytales open with “a long time ago,” Eggers removes his audience from the period-specific associations of the modern-day to a past distant enough to feel mythic. Separated from the present day’s explanations for psychological hang-ups, human neurosis takes on the shape of the supernatural.
Eggers has shown superb confidence in mixing the fantastical and offbeat with the historically accurate. Despite the titular supernatural being that lives in the woods,The VVitchis aesthetically realistic and features period-appropriate set design.The Lighthousefeatures bizarre conversations (e.g., at one point, a rude comment about a character’s cooking prompts a mystical curse). Still, no matter how outlandish, the dialogue stays within the idioms of late 19th-century sailor speak, modeled after the literature of Herman Melville.
Nosferatuoffers a sandbox with much room for Eggers to play in, from the newly industrialized Germany to the superstitions of the time. Ifthe Northmanis anything to go by, the dialogue will probably be in English but mimic the grammatical aberrations of nineteenth-century German. All of these peculiarities of setting offer the canvas for Eggers to do what he does best: create a celluloid myth.
Myth is a powerful tool in cinema. It taps into the primal archetypes that flow through the collective consciousness, externalizing them in instantly recognizable images with a breadth of meanings.Nosferatuis rooted in the mythic figure of the vampire, a timeless creature that drains the living’s life force. There are many interpretations that can be drawn from theNosferatufilms: some argue that the character is actually an antisemitic caricature, representing the fears and prejudices bubbling beneath the surface of German civilization. In antisemitic ideology, Jews are depicted as parasitic creatures that invade European society to suck its life force. Given Murnau’s support of Jewish actors and his status as a homosexual man (and thus a target of the Nazi ideology), it is unlikely that the racism read into the film was intentional. The film could just as easily be interpreted as a parable on the rise of Nazism, an ideology that infiltrates society and controls the minds of civilians. Either way,Nosferatuis an example of the social anxieties of a time reflected through mythic archetypes.
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The films of Eggers are similarly up for interpretation.The VVitchresonated with modern audiences as a feminist parable deconstructing religious patriarchy.The Lighthousehas been interpreted as anything from a condemnation of capitalism to a dissection of masculinity, dominance, and homoerotic sexual dynamics. These are legitimate interpretations, supported and encouraged by the films, the periods in which they take place, and the years in which they were released. But they are not so clear-cut as to be parables; they remain in the undefinable realm of myth, creating a meaning that is timeless.
Nosferatuwill not be an overt commentary on the racial hatred that developed in the deracinated populace of post-industrialized Europe, nor an obvious reflection of modern-day xenophobia, displacement, or decadence; it will likely reflect all of these ideas but will ultimately step into the primal realm of the psyche – which is what the material deserves.
