Nosferatu the Vampyre
3.5/4
Starring: Klaus Kinski, Isabella Adjani, Bruno Ganz
Rated PG (probably for Scary Images)
Watching Werner Herzog's re-imagining of of F.W. Murnau's 1922 silent classic starring Max Schreck will make you realize how twisted the "Twilight" franchise actually is. While there's certainly no rule against taking common folklore and putting your own spin on it, I'd be less eager to use that as a counterpoint if it wasn't so awful.
"Nosferatu the Vampyre" is unlike any vampire movie you've ever seen (unless you've seen the 1922 film). There's little in the way of violence and almost no blood and gore. It's all atmosphere. This is a movie that works because Herzog takes his time. Rarely has the presence of evil slithered off the screen like this.
The story is like a bare bones version of "Dracula" (the copyright on "Dracula" expired long before this film was made, which wasn't the case with the 1922 version, which had to change names and significant portions of the plot. It didn't work, since Bram Stoker's widow sued, and won, for copyright infringement). Jonathan Harker (Ganz) is assigned to go to the Transylvania to sign over a house with a man named Count Dracula (Kinski). His wife Lucy (Adjani) has a bad feeling about this, and doesn't want him to go. But this will bring him a great deal of money, so despite her objections, he embarks on the long journey. When he gets there, he finds that Dracula is a mysterious man with some odd habits (such as staying up all night and sleeping all day). But Jonathan doesn't judge until the Count decides to snack on his neck. Then he realizes that Dracula has designs on Lucy.
There's no denying that this is a scary movie, although not in the traditional sense. There are no "jump" scenes, no chase sequences, and no large cutlery. Herzog has higher aspirations than a blood-soaked gorefest, or god forbid!, a tween romance. He uses sound and images to unsettle us, and it works. The film opens up with images of mummified children forever locked in tortured screams. It's a brilliant start, and it never lets up.
Credit must go to Jorg Schmidt-Reitwein, whose camerawork is brilliantly eerie. He carefully controls the amount of light and shadow on screen, and it shows. This is a gorgeously creepy looking movie. In addition to the opening credits, there is also a coffin march that is truly disturbing.
The soundtrack by Popal Vuh is mixed. When it's meant to be creepy, it's genuinely scary (the chanting will raise the nape hairs on your neck). The lighter score works during happier moments, but not in contrast with the darkness.
The acting is effective, although due to the nature of the production, it relies more on body language than dialogue. Kinski, Adjani and Ganz are the only actors with more than token screen time, so in that respect, the film rests on them, and they deliver.
The best (and showiest) performance is given by Klaus Kinski. Kinski's reputation was as monstrous as the character he plays, but Herzog was the only director able to work with him. Dracula is neither a cultured killer that had been the norm after Bela Lugosi played him, nor is he pure malevolence. He's a man who is tortured by his own desires. In fact, he's closer to an addict than a remorseless killer.
Isabelle Adjani also had reputation of being difficult to work with, although for polar opposite reasons. Rather than being a diva (as is the stereotype), Herzog had to constantly reassure her that she was doing a good job. And she did. Her body language may make this seem like a stuffy arthouse film at times (these are one or two moments in a 100 minute film), but all in all she plays a great devoted wife. Lucy is filled with genuine warmth and light, and that's because of Adjani.
Bruno Ganz is effective, but due to the nature of his character, he's mainly a reactor, and they generally aren't as interesting as more assertive characters. But Ganz, who would become an acting legend in Germany (and would turn down the lead role in "Schindler's List"), is effective in his own way. Jonathan loves Lucy, but he's not the brightest bulb in the bunch and gets in way over his head. Ganz allows us to sympathize with him anyway.
There are two versions of this movie: one in German and one in English. According to iMDb, it was filmed in German and dubbed into English (Kinski and Ganz are German born, and Adjani is French but speaks both German and English fluently). That's strange, since the lip movements sync up to the words perfectly, and when Jonathan writes a letter, it's in English. James Berardinelli said that Herzog filmed the two versions back to back (only the scenes featuring dialogue). That makes more sense.
As non-traditional as it is effective, "Nosferatu the Vampyre" is not easily shaken or forgotten.
Starring: Klaus Kinski, Isabella Adjani, Bruno Ganz
Rated PG (probably for Scary Images)
Watching Werner Herzog's re-imagining of of F.W. Murnau's 1922 silent classic starring Max Schreck will make you realize how twisted the "Twilight" franchise actually is. While there's certainly no rule against taking common folklore and putting your own spin on it, I'd be less eager to use that as a counterpoint if it wasn't so awful.
"Nosferatu the Vampyre" is unlike any vampire movie you've ever seen (unless you've seen the 1922 film). There's little in the way of violence and almost no blood and gore. It's all atmosphere. This is a movie that works because Herzog takes his time. Rarely has the presence of evil slithered off the screen like this.
The story is like a bare bones version of "Dracula" (the copyright on "Dracula" expired long before this film was made, which wasn't the case with the 1922 version, which had to change names and significant portions of the plot. It didn't work, since Bram Stoker's widow sued, and won, for copyright infringement). Jonathan Harker (Ganz) is assigned to go to the Transylvania to sign over a house with a man named Count Dracula (Kinski). His wife Lucy (Adjani) has a bad feeling about this, and doesn't want him to go. But this will bring him a great deal of money, so despite her objections, he embarks on the long journey. When he gets there, he finds that Dracula is a mysterious man with some odd habits (such as staying up all night and sleeping all day). But Jonathan doesn't judge until the Count decides to snack on his neck. Then he realizes that Dracula has designs on Lucy.
There's no denying that this is a scary movie, although not in the traditional sense. There are no "jump" scenes, no chase sequences, and no large cutlery. Herzog has higher aspirations than a blood-soaked gorefest, or god forbid!, a tween romance. He uses sound and images to unsettle us, and it works. The film opens up with images of mummified children forever locked in tortured screams. It's a brilliant start, and it never lets up.
Credit must go to Jorg Schmidt-Reitwein, whose camerawork is brilliantly eerie. He carefully controls the amount of light and shadow on screen, and it shows. This is a gorgeously creepy looking movie. In addition to the opening credits, there is also a coffin march that is truly disturbing.
The soundtrack by Popal Vuh is mixed. When it's meant to be creepy, it's genuinely scary (the chanting will raise the nape hairs on your neck). The lighter score works during happier moments, but not in contrast with the darkness.
The acting is effective, although due to the nature of the production, it relies more on body language than dialogue. Kinski, Adjani and Ganz are the only actors with more than token screen time, so in that respect, the film rests on them, and they deliver.
The best (and showiest) performance is given by Klaus Kinski. Kinski's reputation was as monstrous as the character he plays, but Herzog was the only director able to work with him. Dracula is neither a cultured killer that had been the norm after Bela Lugosi played him, nor is he pure malevolence. He's a man who is tortured by his own desires. In fact, he's closer to an addict than a remorseless killer.
Isabelle Adjani also had reputation of being difficult to work with, although for polar opposite reasons. Rather than being a diva (as is the stereotype), Herzog had to constantly reassure her that she was doing a good job. And she did. Her body language may make this seem like a stuffy arthouse film at times (these are one or two moments in a 100 minute film), but all in all she plays a great devoted wife. Lucy is filled with genuine warmth and light, and that's because of Adjani.
Bruno Ganz is effective, but due to the nature of his character, he's mainly a reactor, and they generally aren't as interesting as more assertive characters. But Ganz, who would become an acting legend in Germany (and would turn down the lead role in "Schindler's List"), is effective in his own way. Jonathan loves Lucy, but he's not the brightest bulb in the bunch and gets in way over his head. Ganz allows us to sympathize with him anyway.
There are two versions of this movie: one in German and one in English. According to iMDb, it was filmed in German and dubbed into English (Kinski and Ganz are German born, and Adjani is French but speaks both German and English fluently). That's strange, since the lip movements sync up to the words perfectly, and when Jonathan writes a letter, it's in English. James Berardinelli said that Herzog filmed the two versions back to back (only the scenes featuring dialogue). That makes more sense.
As non-traditional as it is effective, "Nosferatu the Vampyre" is not easily shaken or forgotten.
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