Robert Eggers
Nosferatu

Robert Eggers is on his fourth film written and directed. This man has been delving into the darkest folklore for about a decade, and it makes perfect sense that the novel by Bram Stoker would come to his mind for a readaptation.

About halfway through the film, I think I have understood the director's intentions, and despite it being easy to guess where it is heading, there is nothing clichéd or predictable awaiting.

The Count Orlok is not just the monster, and this is where it gets interesting; the undead and Hellen exchange revealing remarks. He is desire, incapable of love but dependent on the girl; she identifies with the feeling of shame. He appears to her since childhood, and Eggers metaphorizes him as a feeling to be hidden and repressed.

Kudos to the character portrayed by Dafoe, namely Dr. Von Franz, the only one who understands Hellen. He immediately orders her to be untied, to interrupt her "therapy" based on ether. The Doctor knows that Hellen should not be treated, and is aware of how the curse will be broken even before her poor husband Thomas.

We are introduced to the theme of demonic possession and witchcraft from the very first scenes, as the dark manifests more in dreams than in physical form. Hellen is accused of hysteria and is forced into the useless corset.

The faithfulness to the literary work is immaculate, closer to Herzog's Nosferatu than Murnau's (a particular scene, you'll see), but rich with apt adjustments. Very important is the stage of the final embrace and the death of both protagonists. She seems even to cradle him during the last moments (the announced fusion of flesh).

Great cinema is also made of gestures and seemingly insignificant hints. The camera movements, photography, and the close-ups on the eyes of evil are masterful.

Skarsgård completely disappears into the role positively, even though it involves an actor I do not particularly love.

Among the criticisms you will read online, there will be those about the solemn tones, especially those of Lily-Rose Depp, which I personally find well contextualized.

Unfortunately, the plague that strikes Wisborg on screen seems to have affected the boy seated behind me in the theater who coughs as if there's no tomorrow.

I am quite pleased that my hesitation about the remake has been annihilated. Today we can boast a series of cinematic creatures born from that work, each one more beautiful and different than the other: the dandy, the lover, the suffering, and the repressed.

Repression seems to be the main theme, and to some, it might seem that the film's message is in some way diminishing women's sacred impulses, but I am convinced it is quite the opposite. She saves everyone else, she does not require a savior, and she says it firmly.

Thanks to Robert Eggers for making this new and - I hope soon to be acclaimed - retelling sufficiently grimy.